Black Glass

Chapter 4

I thought that my punishment had been served in the five years I'd been dead, yet the greatest pain was in the present. Oh, how unsweetened a torture it had become. Was I merely a charlatan in a play devoid of a script? The black comedy was not lost on me. I was hinging upon the past whilst making no moves forward to reclaim it. I dreamed of running headfirst into the darkness unafraid to stumble or be lost in it – afraid only of it leaving me behind. My will fluttered and in a moment of weakness, a victim of the quiet, I yearned to return to death for it was certain. The lull of purgatory, caught between the madness of hope and despair, was a ghastly abyss. And in it I remained.

"Damon? What are you still doing awake?" Aria's voice called sleepily from behind me.

I turned to her and felt a twitch of arousal at the sight of her in a navy-blue nightdress. At times she was the perfect visual distraction to the thoughts that kept me in dark company.

"I can't sleep," I replied.

She dragged her bare feet over to me and sat down in my chair, almost on my lap.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

If only she were able to comprehend the true answer to her question.

"Not tonight."

I placed my hands on the soft skin of her legs. I had to lie. I hated the idea of prostituting my brother's memory, but I could not reveal to her that I dwelled on my great lust for pain.

"How do you explain pining for someone who has been gone for a lifetime? I don't know if it's my father's tumour or the distance I feel from my family, but lately I've missed him terribly."

Aria stroked my cheek, "You have your memories. You should consider yourself fortunate, my love. You know I barely even speak to my siblings? I've never spared a thought to being without them. We've just never been close. Not like you and Sebastian. I've never known that kind of love."

"Maybe you're better off not knowing. You wouldn't have to know what losing him felt like."

Somewhere along the line I lost sight of whether I was still lying to her.

"Tell me," she whispered.

"I wish I could bury it," I said.

"I know."

As much as her sympathy and pathos towards my pain would be of great benefit to me in our relationship, revisiting Sebastian was unkind. The mere thought of using his memory for gain felt like a betrayal of some kind, yet at the same time he was, inevitably, at the heart of everything.

"Sebastian and I were as close as siblings could be. He did everything I did, wanted to be everything I was...he idolised me. Like one of those kids who thinks their older brother has it all figured out. At first, he used to annoy me with the way he chased me around and craved my approval, but I came to see what was beautiful in him. I discovered the love of art that we shared. Discovered his wonderful mind. He was so young, but he was so clever beyond his years. Smart enough to get me. He was the only person who ever truly understood me. He appreciated every damn thing. I tried to be a good brother. I don't know if I was, but I truly loved him."

I trailed off as the memories returned to me. Some clear, some not. The little facts had been distorted to the point that fiction and truth were never too far apart.

"How did it happen?" Aria asked softly.

"I'd just got my driving license and I wanted Sebastian to be the first one I took with me," I began, forming the story for Aria's benefit but unsure of its complete accuracy, "He was so excited that day, practically jumping around like he'd had too much sugar. He had this way of just being so unnervingly happy about the good things. You'd have sworn he was from another world."