Ceaseless

Reality and Delusion

"Ma's dead."

A plethora of seconds ticked by before Marley was able to link the whispered words that had emanated from Andrea's mouth with their dark and distorted meaning, with such pain, such anguish, such agony imbedded into them that her voice crackled. Her thick curly hair brushed over Marley's cheek as his eyes fluttered open to the tenebrous shadow of his sister peering over him. Blinking into the darkness, the two words that had been uttered into the icy air shattered into his head, bringing a wave of overwhelming dizziness to him, writhing down his windpipe like a noxious serpent, and asphyxiating him with its mephitic cloud of despair.

No, she's not.

"Andrea, that's not funny at all, go to bed," he chided, despite the utter anguish that he had heard inundate her youthful voice, and the teardrops that he could feel soaking into his skin. He knew his sister better than anyone ever could.

He knew his sister didn't lie.

Her breaths grew sharp and heavy, as if the horrors of the night were throttling her.

"Marley, I'm not lying, she's hanging. There's blood, so much blood, too much blood. she's dea-"

Dejection tore through her voice, combating against the morbid word being breathed out into the tainted darkness. The metal framed bed began to quiver as Andrea dissolved into a stream of irrepressible sobs, convulsing as she collapsed onto the bed. Exigently gulping for oxygen, Andrea wept harder than Marley had ever before. To see his own sister, who was emotionally the strongest person he ever knew, reduced to the tiny corner of despondency that gathered cobwebs and debris in her mind, It sliced and slivered his heart to shreds. Reaching over, Marley lay comforting arms over his sister's quivering shoulders, clasping her securely, shrouding her in his love and protection.

"It's all going to be okay, Andi."

He whispered. Over and over again.

"It's all going to be okay."

But was it? Was it really? Or was he lying to his sister? Lying to himself?

Go and see for yourself.

He felt her body go limp in his arms. His brain and body still vigorously retaliated against those two short sharp stinging words, his incorrigible mind repeating ceaselessly that there was no possible way it could be true, That it was all utter deception and lies.

Marley gently released his clasp around Andrea and tucked her under his threadbare yet secure blanket. His stomach churned as he lifted his heavy legs out of bed placed them gently on the cold wooden floor that sent icy shivers darting up his body. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to leave Andrea, but he needed to. He needed to prove to himself that none of it was true, that it was all fake, fake, fake.

With one reluctant last stroke of his sister's hair, he began to move towards the living room. It was silent. Too silent. The deprivation of sound penetrated his ears with such force that his head began to throb with immense pain. Trepidation weighed his limbs down like large iron weights, making each dreaded step laborious. Brimming with an irrepressible apprehension, the boy entered through the doerless doorframe between their bedroom and the living room, gripping onto the frame for support.

He abruptly paused, rooted to the spot as his eyes latched on to the scene before him.

"Ma?"

his voice crackled as he felt his windpipe begin to close up, halting his airy breaths.

His mother hung pendulously from the light bulb, almost delicately as her lacerated limbs dangled in an almost dainty fashion. Blood. So much blood. It dripped from her shredded clothes, soiling the rug with its crimson sorrow. her limbs were practically mangled, as if a colossal beast had clawed her with its giant serrated claws.