Flower's See Everything

Father Son Bonding

"Do you understand death?"

It was the coldest, most chilling tone. A tone nobody needed to know- hear- understand. A shudder was automatic with this type of tone. Paired with that type of question, it was sickening. Truly sickening. It was so indescribable- so body paralyzing that tone.

Nobody asks that, absolutely nobody. Nobody truly understands death at all until their dead. Even if they understand they NEVER ask. You never ask. Why would he ask this? Why why why? Had he not understood it himself? Death is such a broad concept... This wasn't what he was asking though- Jalen knew that. Jalen knew that his father understood death almost as well as death herself.

"Yes I understand death..."

He whispered back, he was speaking to his father. He couldn't bear to look at him in the eyes. Instead he looked at the floor, at his white shoes. They had patches of gray- tears- from tears that had wet the white. His father was cold and cruel- Jalen couldn't forgive his wrong doings... for everything he's put him through. The day with the bath especially... He could remember it clearer than anything else. That day haunts him.

"Do you understand death?"

He repeated. It was just as chilling and cold as before- he asked so calmly. It was sociopathic. It was insane. Maybe Jalen didn't understand what he was asking... Jalen knew all about death. How it changed people and how it was a terrifying experience. How you would never see that person again after their death. Just the skin and bones they left behind. Even that fades to nothing over time...

He understood the guilt and pain. He represented the guilt and pin. He knew that you could mourn over someone who isn't dead as if they were, he knew so much.

"Yes I understand death..."

He repeated the words over once more. It was like a clock that ticked again and again. Though the hands of the clock never moved. They were both like parrots who only knew one phrase. His father fell silent and didn't repeat himself, minutes passed. The awkward silent made Jalen lift his head to look at his father, now someone new joined them. A boy around the same age, maybe younger, got infront of his dad.

"Well you will today."

A sadistic smile came upon his fathers face. Jalen was confused... he understood death. He said he understood death. Had his father heard him wrong? Were he to die? Were the boy to kill him? Had his father planned to murder his own flesh and blood? Though they said they couldn't kill him. They said they had to accept fate. They said that in the bathroom, with Stephan. Had they lied?

Crash, skid, scream.

Next thing Jalen could remember was being on the top of the small boy, with a knife in his hand. A hunting knife. A large hunting knife at that. He had stabbed him time and time again. Jalen's hands and clothes were bloody, the room reeked of death. His eyes were so lifeless... he had so much to live for... did he repeat the same things Jalen did in his head?

How he couldn't die? Not today? Not like this?

Did he understand he was dying? His body was limp now, he thoughts were gone. He was dead. He couldn't think anymore. He didn't survive... and it was Jalen's fault. The ringing from before came back. In his ears.. he swore it made music. A music he couldn't describe- he couldn't ever describe. Was it soothing? Was it painful? Was it peaceful? Disharmonious? None of those words could come close to this sound. He dropped the knife and looked over in the corner of the room, something was there and it was painfully blinding. It was the figure he could trust and it was standing there. Just. Standing.

"It's okay" a voice came from a random direction... It was strange. It wasn't a girl or a boy and he couldn't tell if it were the figure. Whoever's voice had interrupted the ringing, the music, the sound. Everything was silent. Way more silent than before. It wasn't the small boy or his fathers voice. No.. no.. no he knew who it was.

He sat up quickly in his bed, sweating, crying. His hands were shaking and didn't have the same red blood smeared all over them. His clothes were clean and he was innocent.

"The voice was reality telling me to wake up..."

So that's who it was. Reality.

Jalen huffed with a heavy and staggered breath, he was paralyzed in the same fear from the dream. It hadn't went away- no- not yet. He fell back onto the blankets and pillows behind him, not feeling like getting up ever again. Not once more. He looked over at the small alarm clock he had, "4:30" it read in blinking red letters. He had thirty minutes until he had to get ready for breakfast. He looked around the room to see if the blinding figure was still there and instead saw his father lying next to him.

"No.. no.. had it been real?"

Jalen finally got up and out of his bed, looking around. He wanted evidence that he was still innocent. A body- something. He had instead realized bruises lined his body and his clothes had been removed, no he hadn't committed a murder. His father was the only one who committed a crime that night.

He realized he had no soreness so what had happened was probably not the worst of what could have happened, maybe some aggressive touching, something to turn him on and jerk himself off. That was it right? Right...? God it made it no better, the deed was horrible. That's such an understatement... It made Jalen sick.. it made him cry, fall to the ground, want to give into death's horrific game.

"..I hate you" he whispered to himself, again and again. "I really hate you..."