Gifts From Your Previous Life

2| Rewind

The answer to this was appalled. When we managed to go back home, my mother and father didn't speak a word to me. With my brother giggling that I was a freak and should die. I became a laughingstock in his eyes and my parents never prevented it. I ran to my Ma, holding her with my small arms.

"I promise I'll be good! Why am I given this curse when I don't even know what I was like before! Mum, it's not fair! Stop ignoring me, I'm still your son!" I sobbed, my eyes red from
the tears.

Yet, she didn't mutter a single word. She
ignored all my cries and so did my father.

"If you ignore me for any longer, I'll bring him out! Stop ignoring me!" I screamed in a fit of frustration.

My mum stared at me, repulsed and terrified from what I said.

"Get away from me! You and your diablo (devil)! You are part of the Cursed and you deserve it! Don't ever speak a word to me again!!" She screamed as my father nodded in approval.

Diablo she said. I was a devil in her eyes. My own mother was repulsed and disgusted of me. So I did as she said, I didn't speak to her. In fact, I spoke to no one except Camila. Only in secret though as my parents prohibited from so. The locals seemed to be aware of my parents hatred towards me but never knew I was cursed. I was forbidden from telling others of my 'ability' as it'll bring shame to my family.

I avoided others as a way to prevent my anger causing anyone else to die, but the more I left my Diablo alone, the stronger he got. He became harder to control and I released him by accident once. Alone with my sister, we were walking down an alleyway as we stopped by at a pharmacy for my medicine. I was 10 at the time, which was when my Diablo started to trouble me way more to the point I'll chug down a tub of pills daily and eat sweets to suppress the persona. It was late night, with a cool breeze hitting our faces. Our town was safe so we never had any doubts something will happen, but in this particular night something just had to. A middle aged man who reeked of alcohol approached my sister who was 16 at the time. Staggering, he faced her with one hand on her cheek and the other holding onto a can of beer.

"Oh my Camila! Hermosa (beautiful) you are and developed in all the right places I see!" He slurred, his eyes locked onto her body.

"Ah, uncle you seem quite drunk, you should go home now, no?" She asked, clearly uncomfortable and taking a step back.

"Come on Camila, I can teach you things no other man has made you feel!" He groaned, dropping the can and groping her breasts.

"Uncle, you're drunk you have a wife to get back to." She said, batting his arm away and her voice shaking.

"She's an old hag now. You're so young and sexy.." He began, reaching to unzip his trousers.

Rage. Fury. Anger. The thought 'kill' filled my mind. In this moment, I welcomed Diablo in open arms. My blood racing and my mind screaming for meat, I pounced on him. I ripped him apart, limb for limb. His screams filled the silent alleyway and was music to my ears. Die. Die. Die. How dare you lay a finger on my sister. How dare you? My fangs and teeth grew sharp and claws grew from my nails. I shredded him to pieces and feasted on his corpse. On the path laid a pool of blood which was alcohol for me. I was addicted and slurped every last droplet. I was so hungry I ate his bones as well. Finished, I was crouching and wiped the blood from my face with a slithering tongue. I glanced at a broken mirror on the ground where I noticed my reflection. My eyes were pitch black and I had no pupils or iris. I was lofty and my teeth were razor sharp. I was a monster. A spine-chilling one at that.

I felt warmth from my sister embracing me. She was weeping and thanked me over and over. I returned to my normal body as I held her back. When we returned home, she wiped her tears and acted as if nothing happened. She was never disgusted by me. She witnessed me feasting on someone but never complained about it. I loved her and was always willing to protect her, but I betrayed her. I ended up killing her in the massacre.

I was 14. The antidepressants didn't work and I was hitting puberty so my emotions were everywhere. From sadness to anger to being horny. These negative emotions constantly fuelled me and I just knew my Diablo was brimming with happiness as I was on the tip of feasting. The only person I killed at that time was the Uncle. I never associated myself with anyone at that point, scared something like that will repeat. No one knew he died and just assumed he ran away, as he was known for being a bit insane. I was lucky no one was suspicious and I left no traces. Locked in my room, my sister will hand me some food but I warned her as well that I might accidentally kill her if she got too close. I spent my days sleeping, reading comics and jerking off. Hitting puberty made my emotions even more unstable than it already was. I was drowning in my adverse emotions. The only thoughts I had was sex and murder. I tried to keep myself disciplined by exercising consistently as that was the only thing that was keeping me in check. My sister bought me weights so I can exercise and I only ever left to go on runs. At the very least, I just wanted to be able to look in the mirror and like what I saw. I made sure to keep my room tidy and air the room out since it was a man cave for me. Looking into the mirror, I stared at my body. This was one of the best satisfactions I felt in a while. I had my dream physique. A lean body, broad shoulders and a slim waist. I had a soft 6 pack and my back was well built with amazing biceps. My tanned skin highlighted the muscles which I had pride in but the dull patches of my bruises ruined the smooth chestnut skin. After flexing, I was in a good mood. I cleaned up my cave which was the size of a bigger closet but can't be compared to the rooms the others had and the walls' paint peeling. My room was obviously small and wasn't decorated. I had a single bed, a small drawer for the clothes my sister bought me from her part time job and the comics my brother chucked to me since he'll always get the new ones. The petite space I had left, to work out and the weights in the corner. I had a shower in the bathroom which connected from my room and shared by the others. I applied the hair products into my curls which was also shared but I was only allowed once a month to keep up appearances so the locals thought we were still good. I thought I'll treat myself with some of my Ma's face cream and a sprits of my dad's cologne. I knew if they found out they'll be pissed, but they didn't have to know. Humming to a melody, I went and changed into grey sweats and a fitted white top. Since I was in such a good mood, I decided I'll stay in the living room. I never sat on the beige sofa in years as I was always shunned but I was home alone right now and it's not like I can even go on a rampage at the moment. Sitting down, I switched on the TV and decided to watch the shows I can hear my brother view as he constantly left the volume incredibly loud. He was on the fatter side and my parents spoiled him as they saw him as their only son. He will sometimes bash my door open and laugh at me, at times like this I clawed my own skin. Although I was isolated, I never hated it. I was introverted and I began to enjoy my own company. But this comfort was about to be ruined.