Just Him&I: In Universe of Cruelty

Part 29

I don't like lies.
For some, I am kind, but for others – not.
Some see me as a summit in the fog,
While others – as a mere pebble at the bottom.

***

The dark room. My mother is lying on the bed. Beside it, there's a nightstand with an alarm clock and a bouquet of some flowers. The video quality is poor, and the night barely reveals anything – only the silhouettes of the furniture. She has thrown off the blanket, and her dark hair is spread in waves across the pillow. The only sound is her breathing, occasionally shifting positions. A sudden creak – I guess it's the wooden door. Then soft footsteps, and finally, the one who decided to visit her so late at night comes into the camera's view.

I don't remember this, but I assume cameras were installed in every room except the bathroom and toilet – probably for safety.

I see a tall, dark, male silhouette. I can't make out who it is, so I keep watching. I feel my heart pounding, echoing up into my throat. My body tenses as I lean against the gravestone, still holding the phone in my hands. My clothes have long been soaked and covered in dirt, but I pay no attention until I finish watching this cursed video.

He slowly approaches the bed and leans over her head, standing motionless for several minutes. Then his hand reaches for her neck. He begins to squeeze. I see the moonlight slightly illuminate her face, casting a glow on the attacker's hand, and I recognize it – the metal hand. A metal hand just like James'.

I cover my mouth, feeling nausea rise in my throat. He squeezes so hard that she wakes up, struggling and writhing as he mercilessly takes the life from her body. She has no chance to scream; her vocal cords are crushed. She only whispers faintly. I see her lips turning blue, her face reddening. She tries to understand if this is a nightmare or if she is truly dying. Another minute, and her limp body collapses back onto the bed. Her eyes turn white.

The video ends, and I turn off the phone, sobbing uncontrollably at what I have just witnessed. A sense of complete emptiness overtakes me, as if I were the one being suffocated, not her. It feels like my heart was torn out, crushed, and shoved back in. My conscience wrestles with my desire for revenge. On the one hand, he killed my mother, strangling her in her sleep. On the other, it wasn't him—it was my father controlling his mind. He was merely a tool. My father was the murderer.

Yet this gnawing pain inside won't let me think clearly. I had spent so long searching for her killer, wanting revenge, but now I simply can't do it—because I love this person.

— Mia...? —

Someone places a large hand on my shoulder, and I recognize the person. My entire face is red, tears still streaming down my eyes. I am almost choking, but the cold air prevents me from fully suffocating. I look around the cemetery, my head spinning, as if caught in a dream or trance. It all seems so unreal, as if none of it exists.

The scene of dozens of graves blurs in my vision. I claw at the snow, trying to stand. Grasping at anything within reach, my body begins to tremble. James shakes me, trying to bring me back to my senses.

— I buried her body myself... I buried her body myself... I buried her body myself... I buried her body... —

The same words of his spin in my head over and over again. It was him. He sent me the video. He knew where her grave was—because he buried her body himself.

— Mia, what's wrong with you?! — He lifts me to my feet, and I barely manage to stand. It disgusts me to look into his eyes.

— You knew? — My eyes are swollen, and I almost snarl at him in response. At first, he stares at me, confused. Studying my face as if seeing me for the first time—or perhaps the last. Then his gaze shifts to the gravestone behind me, and he pales.

— So, you knew! — I laugh hysterically, crying like a madwoman. Then I begin to wail loudly and beat his chest. The sound of my hands echoes through the cemetery. He still holds my arms and looks at me.

— Why didn't you tell me? Why?! — I scream this right in his face, and he starts holding me tighter.

— I found out about it the night we slept together. I was afraid you would leave me because I love you, you understand? I never want to lose you! — he took my face in his hands and smiled at me with the corners of his mouth. I pushed his hands away and stepped back from him.

— I don't want to see you anymore! Don't come near me! — the shock on his face was indescribable. I saw tears forming in his eyes, and that only made me feel worse, sick to my stomach.

— You yourself said that it was your father who killed, not the one he controlled! — he shouted at my back as I walked away, texting Natasha, hoping she would come get me right now.

— And did my father sew your mouth shut so you couldn't tell the truth? — I shouted, turning to face him. I saw how much pain he was in, but I couldn't do anything about it. I felt even worse. I needed to rethink everything, or I would go crazy. I didn't need anyone to pity me or beg for forgiveness, which was exactly what he was trying to do now. I hated that.

— God, Mia! Don't do this, please. I'm begging you! — I could no longer hear what he was saying, feeling like I was about to tear myself apart from despair. I kept walking, staggering, occasionally grabbing onto trees or a rotten wooden fence.

Natasha, please come get me!!! Woodlawn Cemetery

The message was delivered and read.I pulled my hood tighter so no one could see my tear-streaked face. But who was I kidding? Who could see my face when there was no living soul here, only what was left of them? I slowly stepped onto the road, impatiently waiting for a car. I just hoped I wouldn't regret what I was doing. This was the most painful blow I had ever taken. Right to my back.

"— You're already part of my family. Don't you dare argue! —"

"— Maria Berest, will you be my girlfriend, once and for all? —"

"— Love works miracles. Don't even try to argue. —"

"— I love you too. —"

God, Dad! Why are you ruining my life even after your own death? Why can't those who suffered in the past be happy in the future? Who will finally explain it to me?!

The sound of another message. It felt like my heart would stop from it.

"I'm really glad you liked it. Goodbye!"

— Damn you! — I hissed through my teeth.

I turned to look at the car James had been sitting in just minutes ago. How, just a few dozen minutes ago, we had driven here together. How his expression had changed when I asked him to stop by the cemetery. And he stayed silent, pretending everything was fine.But sooner or later, I would have found out anyway.
Better sooner than when we already had a family.