V & V - Rageous Rageon Redemption.

Finally Free

Rollie POV:

I walk us up to the edge of the pool, and I see Mother lying in the black pool.

Her body is distorted, stretched, and mangled in such a horrific way... I can't fathom who I'm looking at.

I know it's her from the chunks of her beautiful brown hair and satin shoes she loved wearing floating around her. I can see why there's so much blood; half her head is gone. It seems like she dragged herself out here... to die.

I stare at her gangly body... feeling...

Fred: "Rollie?"

I stay quiet until I find my voice.

Rollie: "She wasn't a good mother, but she loved me in her own way. It's more than I can say for Father."

Kid Ritz: "Rollie... I'm so sorry."

Rollie: "I am, too. I don't think she deserved to go this way. Come on, we have work to do."

I lead us away from Mother, not feeling any tears come. I'm sure I'll grieve later, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little relieved.

Fred and Kid Ritz follow behind me, most likely confused by my lack of reaction. Neither press on it, which I'm ultimately grateful for.

I lead us back inside, looking in the dining room for clues. There's nothing, leaving me to check out the kitchen, yet turn up nothing.

Rollie: "Maybe Dom set up upstairs?"

Fred: "Maybe. I'm confused about why we haven't seen anyone yet. You mentioned there could be waitstaff?"

Kid Ritz: "And Ven had talked about guards waiting out in the hall."

Rollie: "Maybe they turned like Mother or were taken by Dom? I honestly don't have a good answer. Let's check upstairs."

I lead us up the staircase, briefly looking at my family portrait as I walk by. Fred stops, staring at the commission of my younger self. I don't want to see myself with my Mother. It's the last form of media we have together; we've never taken a family photo or had another portrait done since.

I ignore any familial thought, instead focusing on entering my parent's bedroom. The room isn't messy, yet it's not well kept like it typically has been in the past. There appears to be someone who's been around the closet, as clothes are moved out of the meticulous order Mother always kept them in.

Rollie: "Someone other than my parents has been living here."

Kid Ritz: "How do you know?"

Rollie: "Mother had a meticulous way of organizing. The clothes, for instance, have been moved and rehanged in ways she never would. She would be real prissy on insignificant matters such as clothes, to the extent she'd go into fits and take it out on whoever was near."

I look at a particular shirt hung wrong, pulling it out and rehanging it just as Mother would. I rub my thumb over the family R monogrammed stitching, finally deciding I've had enough of the closet. 

I lead us out of the closet, walking to the window. 

Rollie: "Father never would have had the window open; he'd have complained about bugs or the wind."

Fred: "I'm guessing this is where Ven jumped from."

I look out the window, seeing the crushed rose bush.

Kid Ritz: "I'm so happy he didn't get seriously hurt; that's a farther drop than I thought from how he described it."

Rollie: "I'm impressed he was so brave."