Gifts From Your Previous Life

1| Massacre

I killed my family. They're all dead. Every single one of them. My mother. My father. My brother. And my sister who I loved most. They laid in a field of roses which oozed from their bodies. Exasperated gargles from my father, choking on his own blood. They were torn and ripped. Chunks of flesh flopped on to the creaking wooden floor boards as the vivid crimson blood splattered overtaking the oak grains. I found myself devouring their meat. Ripping the skin of their bones. Tears flowed down my cheeks and my eyes were bloodshot. My mind screaming, telling me to stop. This is your family. What are you doing? Stop eating them. Just stop! Why are you doing this? But I just can't. I can't pause for a second. Like an animal that starved for too long. The tender muscles which shredded under my canines. Saliva dripping from my mouth because of the flavour. Blubbering while eating. Overflowing, the tears just wouldn't stop. Sniffling through every bite I took. My hands shaking while gripping onto the meat. Recalling their screams of terror as I ripped them with my bare hands. What's wrong with me? Sobbing, I threw the bits of flesh and bones out of my sight and gnawed my arm. It tasted horrible but I couldn't bare eating my sister and enjoying it. She was the only person who I actually thought of as family. Tearing of my skin, I managed to regain my senses. Relieved the thirst was gone, I laid in a pool of zombie's wine. Reality hit me and my tears fell like a fountain. Wailing, I clasped onto my hair, tearing the curls. Biting my lip as my legs where huddled close to my torso. Peering at my hands, where all I see is vermillion. In the silence, I can only hear my sniffles and silent sobbing. I could feel the ball in my throat, holding back a deafening scream.

Crawling, I approached my sisters corpse. Lifeless she was. Her tanned skin was painted in specs of red acrylic. Her body remained unlike the others which I consumed where only fragments of bones lingered. On my knees, I held her corpse embracing it; my crying made her black hair damp. My wails echoed through the compact room, my trembling hands gripping onto her body. I held onto her, as if it'll make her seem any less dead as she was in my arms. She's safe. In my grasps.

The smell of flesh rotting filled the house. It's been 3 days since the massacre and she was still in my arms. Flies tried to nibble on her but I made sure they wont leave a spec on the cold body. I huddled close to the anatomy, my eyes puffy and my vision so blurred I can only close them. I buried my head in her chest, as if she'll comfort me like she used to. Like she'll say that everything is fine. How she used to cradle my head and read me stories. When the rest of my family hated and abused me for being a freak, she stayed by my side.

Rewind ⏪:
Our town was like family where everyone knew each other and trusted one another. We can leave our cottage doors open and not have a fear in the world that any harm will come to us. It was a countryside in the UK, with greenery surrounding us and the beautiful sepia barks of trees stood proudly protecting our little world. We were majority Brazilian so there weren't many cultural differences which meant everyone was bonded, even the elderly. In the summer times, the grandmas will always cook Pastéls and treated us to Brigadeiros (type of dessert). Since I was the youngest of my family, I was spoiled by everyone especially by my sister, Camila. She constantly fed me and read me stories while my parents were busy with my middle brother, Pedro as he was only a year older. The locals loved me as I was quite chubby with even tanned skin, my batting emerald eyes and bouncy curls. Grannies constantly fed me till I was a plump dumpling baby. But, nothing perfect lasts forever.

As I grew older, at the age of 5 was when my persona began to make fragments of appearances. When I grew in a rage, I'll be so consumed with anger that with my small fists I managed to leave bruises on my Ma. She'll try prevent me from causing harm by holding my wrists, but then I'll use my feet. The locals never thought much of it, but rather applauded me for my strength but it only got worse.

At one point, I was venturing around town by myself but a bit closer to the woods. I noticed a rabbit with a snow fur coat and a strawberry-like nose. Reaching, I attempted to hold the bunny when it suddenly bit me. In the heat of the moment, the persona came, ripping its floppy ears from its petite head. Decapitating it's head, I began to reach for a bite when my Ma caught me. She faced at my direction, in shock. Stumbling in to a corner, she threw up. My eyes widened in fear, realising what I just did. I was going to eat rabbit. Raw. Repulsed, I chucked its head away and ran towards my Ma.