A long time ago there were 3 brothers, Rozario, Santiago and Valentino. Their last name is unknown but the fact that they were related is, well, even then this was kept a secret from the world.
All 3 brothers wanted the same thing: Power, wealth an...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
play the song ^^^
Leo's POV:
All my life I had thought that it was my mother who was the one who had been wronged. Thrown to the side, discarded after use and left to ruins.
I had failed to see that, while, yes she had been wronged but not as much as my sister had been.
My sister had truly been discarded and thrown away yet she didn't care.
Her only care was us. If we were ok then so would she have been, and nothing hurt more then that thought.
My feet worked before I could stop them.
Past the second floor.
Past the third floor.
At the stairs of the fourth floor was where I stopped.
I just stood there. Looking up at the vast nothingness that was Infront of me. Yet it wasn't though was it?
It was a lot more then nothing.
Sometimes I wish it was nothing. Sometimes I wish she was nothing.
I took 1 step up the stairs.
I didn't know why I was doing it, torturing myself with the memories. I had promised myself that I would never come here again, and ever since I had made that promise when I was 12, I had upheld the promise.
Here I was at age 22, 10 years after making the promise. Breaking it, sadly that wasn't the only thing that was breaking here. I could it against my chest. slowly cracking, small lines indenturing inside it, yet somehow still keeping together. Holding its self together.
Indestructible.
I swallowed and took 5 more steps.
Counting them in my mind just like I had always done. There were 26 steps in total.
Even after 10 years I could still remember that. I could probably still remember that number in my sleep.
26 was the number I had counted that day after running up the stairs and into my mothers room.
26 was the number i had counted before i saw who i believed to be the only person who had loved me in my entire life die.
26 was the age of my brother when he had died.
I took 3 more steps up.
Memories floated beside me, tangling twisting and forming, solidifying from their invisible nothingness into crystallised images flashing before me, because what was the use of memories if not to haunt you?
10 year old me suddenly appeared beside me the crystal lines smooth and colourless but the expression I wore on my face was clear, jumping up the stairs in front of me shouting the number of the step just before I was going to land on it smiling wildly and shouting with enthusiasm, 3 days before I killed a person for the first time.
The image suddenly shattered in front of me but it never made a sound. It was silent.
Another image formed, just as I took another 4 steps.
10 year old me again but I was walking the opposite way. Down the stairs. Face filled with the young innocent tears of having been sent away from mother after she wasn't having a good day.
Another 4 steps and I left the 10 year old me behind. I didn't watch him shatter, for I knew too well that he had already shattered long before these memories had.
11 year old me appeared instead.
Sitting on a step, worried. 'She wasn't looking too good today' the thoughts came to my head of what the 11 year old me would have thought. The 11 year old me didn't shatter but it turned into a cloud of vapour, slowly drifting away as I took another 5 steps.
11 year old me again.
Hesitating this time. Standing on the same step that I was on just looking up at the top of the stairs. I didn't follow to where he was looking too. I didn't need to.
He was scared though. His hand trembled at his side and his face filled with a fear that seemed to paralyze him. The fear of loosing a mother.
He then turned and looked at me, as if he could see himself in the same spot a whole 11 years later. He looked surprised, and that was when I really I'd think that he could see me but then I saw that he was looking up. across the banister and into a room.
Not me. His mother.
His image suddenly shattered and fell on the floor but there were no remaining shards of the stairs, just as he had appeared he returned.
3 steps up and I stopped. Just one more till I reach the top.
Another image formed.
12 year old me.
Sitting on the top step blankly looking at the floor. Hands stained with blood. His mothers blood. His expression was empty.
The expression of a child who had lost his mother.
The expression of a child who had loved his mother so much and had thought that she did too.
The expression of a child that love had completely betrayed. Watching someone you love die is an image you will never forget.
I didn't mind believing in the lie that mother had loved me. It was a nice lie. A nice feeling of warmth that didn't feel as harsh as it did when I thought of the truth. So I didn't
After all we all eat lies when our hearts are hungry from the emptiness.
The image shattered in front of me. Again. Silently, just like a heart.
And I took the last step. 26 steps in total, just like it had always been.
