The Devil's Tears

Chapter 4: Trauma...

1 month ago. What do you do when your life gets turned upside down? When the fear is
rushing down your veins and the adrenaline doesn't help you think clearly. Do you follow the
rules? Or do you do what's necessary to survive? The sound of loud banging on the door
jolted me awake from my deep slumber. My little sister, Zara, had slammed my door open
with an expression of sheer terror written all over her face. She quickly closed the door
behind her and rushed towards me, shaking me back and forth, demanding answers. "Leo!
What's going on?" she asked frantically. I was still groggy and had no idea what was
happening. "I don't know, you tell me," I replied. "It's not the time for jokes, Leo!" she
retorted, her eyes welling up with tears. "Okay, calm down. What did our parents say?" I
asked. "They told me to hide. Please tell me it's nothing serious," Zara pleaded. I tried to
reassure her, "Zara, we will be fine as long as..." Before I could finish my sentence, we heard
the back door being kicked in, making the glass of water next to me tremble slightly. Zara
gasped for air, her eyes fixed on my bedroom door. I knew something was wrong. I quickly
turned to her and whispered, "Go hide in the closet now!" I threw the covers off me and
stood up, feeling my heart racing against my chest. I stood there for a few seconds in my
black Calvin Klein boxers, taking deep breaths and trying to calm myself down before
making my way towards the door. The moonlight filtering through the window illuminated the
room just enough for me to see the clock next to me - it was 2:43 a.m. Zara's eyes widened
as she carefully closed the closet door, her hand trembling ever so slightly. I picked up my
sweatpants from the ground, feeling a sense of urgency in the air. As I put them on as
quickly as possible, I tiptoed towards the hallway door, trying to avoid making any sound.
Zara's voice, barely above a whisper, rang out behind me. "Be careful!" Her concern was
palpable. With a racing heart, I reached for the door handle, my fingers trembling. Slowly
and cautiously, I opened the door just a little crack, allowing me to peek through the sound of
my parents' screams becoming louder. My mind was racing as I frantically searched for the
black box in my nightstand. It was a box that I wasn't supposed to open, but I needed it now.
I knew they needed me, and I couldn't let them down. Finally, my fingers grasped the box
and I quickly slid the lid open. Inside, my eyes locked onto a 9-millimeter pistol. I know it's
not something that people normally keep in their nightstand, but I had it there just for
emergencies. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my palms were slick with sweat as I
reached for the weapon. I could feel the weight of it in my hand, and my fingers tightened
around the handle. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, but my heart was still racing. It felt like it was going to burst out of my chest as I prepared myself for what was to
come. I took measured steps towards the door, feeling the cool hardwood floor beneath my
feet and the gentle breeze from the open window on my skin. I couldn't help but notice the
intricate carvings etched into the door’s surface, each one telling a story of its own. All I
could see was the hallway and the shouting from downstairs didn't help me with
concentrating at all. The sound of footsteps pounding on the stairs made my heart race with
fear. I felt a sudden urge to hide, but I couldn't move. As I stood frozen, my body drenched in
sweat, I heard the footsteps getting closer and closer. My mind raced with questions,
wondering who the person could be and what they wanted. I slowly crept towards the door
and peered through the crack, trying to catch a glimpse of the man. My heart was pounding
so hard I could barely breathe, but I managed to keep my composure. Suddenly, the man
appeared in the hallway, and I held my breath, praying that he wouldn't notice me. The fear
was overwhelming as I watched him move closer and closer until he looked in my direction.
My body tensed up and I was barely able to contain myself as I held my breath for as long as
possible, hoping that he wouldn't hear me. The sound of someone screaming from
downstairs pierced through the quietness of the house, making my heart race with fear. "5
minutes!" the voice yelled, causing panic to ripple through my body. "Yeah, I'll make it quick!"
a man replied, his footsteps echoing as he turned and walked away. At that moment, I felt
like the air had been knocked out of me. I struggled to catch my breath as I watched him
head towards my parents' room. My mind raced with thoughts of what could be happening.
Was someone breaking in? Was my family in danger? As I tried to regain my composure, my
vision began to blur and my knees felt weak. Despite the fear and confusion, I knew I had to
stay strong. I took a deep breath and calmed myself down. I could hear the sound of things
breaking and crashing, but I couldn't see anything through the small crack in the door. The
suspense was unbearable, and my heart pounded loudly in my chest. All I could do was wait
for the right moment. My senses were on high alert as I stood in the dimly lit hallway, my
finger on the trigger of my gun. Suddenly, a pungent smell hit me, almost making me gag. It
was a smell that I couldn't quite place, but it was definitely something nasty. I couldn't tell if it
was emanating from my own body or if it was coming from downstairs, where the others
were. I wiped a drop of sweat from my forehead and felt a sense of unease creep up on me.
The man in the room in front of me yelled out, "I have found it!" and I knew that the end was
near. They had finally found what they were looking for. As the man passed by, I kept my
finger on the trigger, ready for anything. But even with the imminent threat seemingly over, I
couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in my stomach. As soon as I saw the man
walking down the stairs, I knew I had to follow him. It was time to be brave, to confront my
fears. But as I glanced back at my room, I could see Zara was in a bad way. Her breathing
was laboured, and tears streamed down her face. "The man is gone, Zara. You'll be okay
now. Just stay put," I reassured her. But she begged me not to leave. "Please don't go," she
cried softly. "I have to make sure he's gone. Please, just stay here," I pleaded. With a heavy
heart, I walked through the hallway making the floorboards creak beneath my feet, and I
winced, expecting the worst. But the house remained silent, and the only sound was the
thumping of my heart in my chest. I tiptoed toward the stairs, keeping my eyes peeled. The
sound of yelling grew louder, and with each passing moment, it intensified. It was a
cacophony of angry voices that filled the air, making it impossible for me to decipher what
they were saying. The tension was palpable, and it was clear that things were getting worse
by the second. These screams I was hearing were not just from yelling, but pure pain and
torture. The cruelty of the men was inhuman. It made me question my bravery. As I
descended the stairs, each step creaked beneath my weight. My eyes quickly scanned the surroundings, trying to figure out the source of the noise. The men's conversation echoed
through the house, providing me with a clear sense of direction. With my gun gripped tightly
in my trembling hand, I cautiously navigated the house. Every sound seemed amplified,
causing my nerves to fray. My destination - the living room - was but a few steps away. As I
walked through the hall, my heart rate picked up its pace. With every step, my breaths
became shallower and my palms grew slick with sweat. I paused for a moment, took a deep
breath, and tried to steady my nerves. As I approached the living room, I noticed that the
door was ajar, inviting me to peek inside. My heart raced with anticipation and apprehension,
knowing that there would be no turning back once I crossed the threshold. Despite my
reservations, curiosity got the better of me and I pushed the door open wider. The room was
dimly lit, but I could make out the silhouettes of figures in the distance. My mother's screams
were eating me alive. I cautiously looked inside while I heard my mother scream in pain as
the men cut her wrists. She is sitting with her back facing two men who are positioned
closely behind her. Both men have their hands firmly placed on her shoulders, holding her in
place while the other man keeps cutting deeper into her wrists. The group of men stood
before me, all of them dressed head to toe in black. I couldn't see any exposed skin or
clothing that would give away their identities. Despite my attempts to focus on their faces,
my vision became increasingly blurred the longer I stared. It was as if they were shrouded in
a haze that made it impossible to discern any distinguishing features. After they were done
with my mother, they tied her up and placed a cloth into her mouth so she couldn’t talk. Her
eyes were red and I could see the pain behind her smile. I have had the privilege of knowing
many people in my life, but I have never met someone quite as resilient as her. She has a
strength that is unmatched and an unwavering determination that inspires me every day. On
the other hand, my father is a completely different story. He is not at all like her in terms of
his approach to life and his attitude towards challenges. He has made some decisions that
have put us in a difficult position, but I have no faith that he will find a way out of this. ‘’You
have really outdone yourself now.’’ The man said to my father. As I stood there feeling
helpless, I muttered to myself under my breath, "Like bitch, do something." Suddenly, he
turned his gaze towards me, and it felt as though he looked straight into my soul. His eyes
held a sense of remorse, something that I had never seen before. He then shifted his
attention back to the man and spoke, his voice filled with anger, "What does it matter? You
have what you want. You can leave now!" My father's outburst surprised me, and I knew that
it would not end well. He should never have even messed with that kind of people. "I can't
believe you don't remember," he said, exasperated. "We talked about it over and over
again.." He looked confused, and he rolled his eyes. "Honestly, you're even more stupid than
we thought. It's really disappointing." His tone was tinged with frustration and
disappointment. Before my father could answer, the man took out his gun and pulled the
trigger pointing at his forehead. ‘’No, please don’t.’’ The sound of the shot was clearly
hearable to others. I saw him fall to the ground while blood shoots out of his head. “Sorry,
you had to see this love.’’ The man said to my mother while the others started laughing. She
tries to resist the pain, but she is already broken. This was the last memory she would have
of him. With bruises all over his body. Screaming for mercy. As they laughed, the floor
around my father was completely covered with his own blood. The atmosphere in the room
was tense as one of them reached out and grabbed a baseball bat that was leaning against
the wall. He turned to the others and asked in a hesitant voice, "Can I?" The rest of the men,
their eyes fixed on the bat, gave a silent nod of approval. The man walked towards my
father's corpse and started hitting my father’s dead corpse straight on the head, crushing his
skull. I gasped for air as he did it again and again. The emptiness I felt in my chest was indescribable. It was as if someone had snatched away a part of me that I never knew
existed. My eyes were fixed on my father, who was lying there on the ground. The men who
had barged into our house were slowly packing their things, seemingly in no hurry. I could
hear the distant wail of police sirens approaching our house. My mother's tears were
streaming down her face. She remained silent, but her face was contorted with pain and
grief. One man saw her sitting there like that and decided to spit on her. The pure disrespect
for my mother was unbearable. I gripped the gun even tighter. I wanted to fucking kill him. To
rip his throat and stab his heart multiple times. As the clock ticked away they walked towards
the door. I stood there, watching their every move, waiting for the moment when I could
finally make my move. Finally, the front door clicked shut behind them, and I took a deep
breath before quickly making my way toward my mother. My heart was pounding with
adrenaline when I saw the man who shot my father right in front of me. He had a gun pointed
at my mother’s head. I was ready to shoot. Nobody treats my mother like that. Not anymore.
I raised the gun pointing at the man and without hesitating I pulled the trigger before he
could. It felt good how the bullet went straight through his skull. My mother looked at me
while the man fell down onto the ground. I didn’t hesitate and dropped the gun as I ran
towards her. With a tear rolling down my cheek, I pulled the cloth out of her mouth. ‘’Open
the door! Police here!’’ I turned around to see the front door shaking. ‘’Son, listen here. Your
DNA is on that gun. If you don’t leave now you will be in deep trouble. Go to Ravenwood.
Take the gun and Zara with you.’’ She said while crying in my arms. ‘’I can’t leave you alone
here Mom. What if they come back.’’ I said while untying her. ‘’They won’t come for me. I’ll
be fine. Now go to RavenWood. You will be safe there.’’ ‘’This isn’t a proper goodbye mom.’’
‘’If you don’t leave now you will never get out of here. Now go!’’ ‘’I love you, Mom!’’ ‘’I love
you guys too!’’ ‘’Police!!! Open the door now!’’ As I prepared to leave, I tightly embraced her
for a final hug, savouring the warmth and comfort of her embrace. As I pulled away, I gazed
at her for a moment, trying to memorize every detail of her face, knowing that I wouldn't see
her for a long time. It was a painful realization that no child should ever have to endure. With
a heavy heart, I picked up the gun and made my way up the stairs, my eyes wandering over
the pictures of our family that adorned the walls. Each image seemed to mock me, a
reminder of the happy moments we shared that were now nothing but memories. When I
reached my room, Zara peeked through the closet door. Her presence brought a small sliver
of comfort to my aching heart. The moment when she came out of the closet to hug me left
me with mixed emotions. I was happy to see her, but I couldn't shake off the feeling of
anxiety. "Get your suitcase, Zara!" I said quickly, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention.
Zara understood the urgency of the situation and nodded in agreement. We were about to
head to Ravenwood, the school of opportunities, or so they say. Despite being just one year
younger than me, Zara and I attended the same school. Feeling a sense of urgency, I hastily
reached for my jacket and snatched my suitcase. Within a span of three minutes, Zara
returned, looking a little flustered. "I can't seem to locate the rest," she said, sounding a tad
exasperated. Without wasting any time, I suggested, "We can always buy more later." My
response was curt, but the urgency of the situation demanded it. The jacket touched my abs
and made me shiver from the cold coming from it. As we made our way to the bathroom
window, my heart was racing with anticipation. We heard the front door open with a loud
bang, which made us move even faster. I opened the window and helped Zara up. She
grabbed the suitcases I handed her and then she extended her hand to help me up too. As
soon as we stepped out of the bathroom, a beam of light shone through the window, and we
froze in our tracks. We held our breaths and listened intently to the muffled voices that were
coming from inside the room. "Clear!" we heard someone say, and we breathed a sigh of relief when we realized that the danger had passed. We gathered our belongings and made
our way cautiously towards the back of the building, careful not to make any noise. Once we
were outside, we sprinted away as fast as we could. We walked through the streets, while
my hands were still covered in blood from helping my mother. The image of my father being
shot kept coming back into my mind. ‘’What happened back there?’’ She asked. I wanted to
answer, but the pain was getting the best of me. I was paralyzed. My feet ached as we
walked through the quiet streets. I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that clung to me
like a second skin. Suddenly, she stopped walking and reached out to touch my chin, her
eyes filled with compassion. "Whatever happened, I'll never judge you," she said softly. Her
arms encircled me, and I broke down in tears, relieved to finally have someone to confide in.
It was dark outside, and the street lights flickered on, casting a warm glow on our faces. As I
looked up at the sky, I noticed the bright stars twinkling here and there, a sight that was both
beautiful and haunting. "We will be safe now," I whispered, though deep down, I knew the
damage had already been done. As we made our way to the bus stop, our tired feet dragged
along the pavement, causing us to feel lightheaded. Zara, sensing my fatigue, took my arm
and leaned on my shoulder for support. With my eyes closed, I could hear the sound of the
approaching bus and smell the freshness of the crisp air. As it came around the corner, I
held Zara close in my arms, grateful for her presence and the comfort it brought. I hid my
hands inside the pocket of my jacket and got into the bus with her Zara. As we walked
around, we kept searching for a comfortable place to sit. Finally, we found a spot and settled
down. She leaned her head on my shoulder, and I could feel the weight of her body against
me. It was a peaceful moment, and I thought she was just resting her eyes, but then I
realized she had fallen asleep. I could hear her soft breathing and feel the warmth of her
breath on my skin. I knew we still had a long night ahead of us, and the thought made me
feel both tired and anxious at the same time. It was going to be a long night for me. I took a
deep breath as the engine of the bus started working. I looked outside trying to admire the
city, but I knew it wasn't over yet. It would be to easy.