The Blood I Carry

Why?

My voice shakes. My knees feel weak. I give him a minute of silence before speaking again.

"I'm so sorry Rowan I'm so sorry i didn't know i would have told y-"

"Your brother killed her! She was the love of my life! She's dead because of your brother! Your sickening disgusting brother!" Rowan's face turns a shade of red while yelling at me and walking towards me. His forearm hits my throat as he pushes me against the wall.

"Hey hey!" I hear Jude say.

"It's alright, I'm alright." I reassure him. I can handle him myself. Stay strong.

A vein bulges out at Rowan's forehead. "Your brother was a sick bastard. He always was. He never cared. He never cared for anyone apart from himself. He never even cared for you, he was an ignorant asshole who deserved to die." His words are bitter as they roll off his tongue. Tears gather in his eyes and his whole body shakes at the thought of my brother killing his girlfriend who he loved more than himself. My heart hurts for him.

"I'm sorry, alright? But who gave you the right to speak about my brother like that? He's dead too, remember? You wouldn't like it if I started bad mouthing Luna would you? I couldn't have done anything about her death. Me and Arlo fell apart, so what? He didn't tell me everything, I didn't tell him everything. I never thought my brother to be a killer until now. So in the nicest way possible, stop shit talking him and get the fuck off me." I speak between my teeth, my words just as bitter as his. Maybe he hit me a bit harder than I did though.

I raise my chin, I will not look weak.

Rowan looks at me, trying to find words, an angry tear falls down his cheek. His lip quivers as he tries to stay strong, I thought for a minute he might try and kill me, but the pressure of his forearm on my throat loosens. His arm drops but he gets close to my ear and whispers.

"I hope you and your brother burn in the depths of hell."

He looks at me again with such hatred he might as well kill me now. He turns around and locks himself in Luna's bathroom. I peel myself off the wall and stand there for a second, everyone stands in the room silent, staring. A warm flush rises over me and I can feel my breathing start to get quicker and quicker.

I'm going to have another panic attack.

Rushing out the room, I quickly pace down the hallway to my bedroom. I get in there and shut the door and make sure it's locked, before slumping down to the floor, resting against the oak.

Tears stream down my face, I'm hot and sweating but I have body shakes. My breathing is harsh, fast inhales take over my attempt at slow exhales.

"Oh God please no." I sob quietly to myself.

My brother? A killer? He murdered my friend, our friend? And for what? A secret no one but they knew? What were they? Did they have something going on between them? Oh I can't take this.

My teeth chatter as chills are sent up and down my spine, despite the sweaty mess I'm becoming. Panic attacks have to be one of the worst feelings in the world. I feel like i'm trapped under water, the water consumes my lungs and i can try to swim up towards air but the chains at my ankles pull me down and down.

I do the only thing I actually think of doing and dig my nails into my palms, hoping to draw blood. It will focus my brain on the pain in my hands so I'll calm down. It's how it's always worked for me. Cause pain somewhere else to slow down my breathing and the heat that tickles my cheeks. It only takes another thought for my breathing to get even unsteadier and for the tears to keep flowing. I never knew my brother at all. He murdered someone. He was in the mindset to kill someone. Put a bullet through an innocent girl's head. It hits me again, a wave of nausea rushes over me as I remember what he said to me while we were walking to The Intelligent headquarters. "Unlike Luna, dead as a dodo. I watched her die." I was so angry with him about what he said about Luna, that i didn't get the last bit. I watched her die. Holy fucking shit it was right infront of me this whole time and i chose to ignore it. My stomach begs to release what's in it. My mouth salivates, but I won't throw up. I won't. My breathing starts to regulate, I breathe in three, out six. I dig my nails deeper into my palms, hoping to feel anything other than dizziness, nausea and heat.