Ugly Dog

The Room of the Dead

Stay away from me
Please look away
Or else you'll see
What I can't keep at bay
Look no further
Than my soulless eyes
Or else you'll see
The reasons I cry

"Novice, I - "
I couldn't find my voice. Words were beyond me, all I could see in my head was my little brothers terrified face.
His hands were dug into fists, lying dormant at his side. Messy black hair hung limply over his eyes, almost fully covering the brown glint of them. His thin pink lips were open with surprise.
"You, were a dog." He whispered, moving a strand of hair from his eye. I was glad to see that there was wonder in his terror, at least someone wasn't completely terrified.
"What?" I questioned. Undeniably I had had a completely broken face, but was I a dog? No, that was too far.
Still, Novice nodded violently, surging forward into a retell. "You - you were a dog! You got down on the ground, when you first got off of the bathtub, and you huddled up on the floor. At first I thought you just looked small, and then I realized you were getting small. Your skin got darker, you had claws-"
He broke off when he saw a thin tear streak down my cheek. His eyes widened, he never much saw me cry, it was mostly the other way around. The reality of what just happened settled on me like icy snow, dropped all at once. I felt a tremble run across my skin, and another few tears run down my cheeks. My legs wobbled, and I braced myself on the sink. Although the pain had passed, a sob racked through my body. It took only a few more seconds for me to begin crying. I crumpled to the ground like rolled paper, more in control of my body than I had been, but somehow still loosing it. Novice stepped closer, more sure of my feelings now than he had been when I was in pain. He draped an arm around me as if he were the older sibling, and pulled me close. He smelled like oil pastels and garlic. I dug my face into his soft shirt as he tightened his grip around me. For a twelve year old, he definitely was not as strong as he should be, but I could feel none of his weakness now. This was a familial hug, and the strength in that outweighed any physical qualities.
Novice put his lips to my head, tapping my arm lightly just as mom did when we were sick as children. He even knew the spot, on the top of the forearm, right under the freckle him and I both shared, in the soft part where shoulder met arm. I thought of Maggie, whether she really did have any kids or not, or even about her parents. Had they cared for her like this? Had she ever cared for someone like this? No matter what future we had created for her, her past was constant, but now lost forever in the memories of the dead. Guilt weighed on me like a blanket as I sobbed harder into Novice. We destroyed her life without a thought, even if we weren't the ones that killed her. Maybe this was my curse. Maybe I deserved it.
"It's not your fault, V" Novice murmured, in a voice lighter than I'd ever heard him use. "It's not mine, either. You don't have to carry that around." He pressed his soft cheek to my temple. I sucked in a breath, and stifled my sobs just long enough to ask, "Where the hell did you learn to talk like that?"
"I didn't." Novice said. "Mom told me that, last night. She said neither of us should feel guilty about Maggie."
"How did you know I was thinking about Maggie?" I asked.
Novice's thumb stilled against my skin. His light voice sobered. "Because I am, too."
With a sigh I maneuvered my arm from my side to twist around him. My little brother had been strong enough for one day. I reached under his arm and pulled him up next to me, wiping away tears with my free hand.
"Three days without me, huh? How did you and mom even survive."
Novice hid a smile and pulled me closer, he was short for his age, his head only reaching my shoulders. I leaned my weight on him, or at least as much of it that I couldn't hold up myself. Silently, he guided me into the living room.
Our dining room table sat pressed against the back of the room, covered with papers and unopened letters. Moms tiny black laptop occupied the only clear space at the head of the table, where the rummage surrounded it like a river. Novice pulled out the chair in front of it and swung me around to his right, plopping me down into the seat. I leaned back into the chair as he picked up the laptop and set it down atop the piles of papers, giving me a clean spot on the table. The living room was clean, as if no one had sat down to relax in the past days. The kitchen was a mess of dirty dishes and uncleaned Tupperware scattered around the place. There was a little Yankee Candle sitting in the living room window, it's flame spurring about. With a deep breath I recognized the scent as moms favorite - cinnamon. I also got the tinge of meat sauce, cabbage, and -
"Are there Renios garlic noodles in the fridge?" I asked Novice, who was filling up a glass of water for me. He looked back at me, a deer in the headlights.
He hesitated. "Yes?"
I widened my eyes and puckered out my bottom lip, hoping he'd warm some up for me. Renios was the only Italian restaurant up here, and the best place to get by far. Though they were expensive, so mom and I got it rarely.
"I was saving some for tonight!" Novice whined, although not denying my request. "Besides, how did you even smell that? I buried it in the back of the fridge." He pulled out the red container of noodles, and the smell of garlic and wheat invaded my nose. I stifled a cough.
"Wow, they really went overboard with the flavoring, huh?"
Novice looked at me strangely, setting the noodles on the counter and grabbing a plate from the cupboard. "None more than usual, are you okay Val?" He questioned. I rubbed my nose a few times as the poignant smells began to settle. Although the garlic was still fresh to the breath, it was far more tolerable. I looked up to see Novice studying me. To my discretion, he had made no progress with the noodles.
"What is it?" I asked.
His eyebrows scrunched up and his eyes crossed slightly, as he did when he was drawing a particularly detailed sketch. He grabbed something from the counter, one of moms Salt & Pepper shakers shaped like a decorative coffee pot, and made his way towards me.
I opened my mouth, about to ask what he was doing, when he opened the shaker with one swift movement of his hand. He had it under my nose in a flash, prompting me to take a surprised breath, which was a very bad idea.
I threw my head back and leaned as far away from the pepper inside of the shaker as I could. It felt like flashing heat was running through my nose and throat as I was issued into a coughing fit. Once this reaction was over, I looked back to Novice with wide, betrayed eyes. Without a word he put the shaker to his own nose, inhaling deeply. His eyebrows scrunched up, but other than that his reaction was nowhere near as animated as mine was.   I looked at him with disbelief.
"You" I said. "Have one tough nose."
Novice capped the shaker and set it on the far side of the table. Then, leaning in closely to my face, he huffed out a large breath. I scrambled backwards, holding my nose.
"Oh! Seriously, dude, I just had a seizure and you do that?!"
He didn't seem bothered by my reaction, and instead perked up a little bit. "Smell it, trust me! Tell me what I had to eat today, if you can."
Although I was not at all happy at the prospect of smelling my brothers breath, I leaned forwards as he breathed out deeply.
There was nothing, at first, maybe a little bit of garlic. Then the waves came in, accompanied by melting colors in my mind. The garlic was deep green and fresh, it made my stomach rumble. There was faint mint toothpaste most likely from this morning, sky blue. Apple pancakes for breakfast, as red as a fire truck, I wondered if he made them himself. Novice and I never cooked, but with mom busy, maybe he decided to learn -
My thoughts stopped dead, replaced by sickly sweet cherries and dark chocolate smells that were all two familiar to me. I launched myself off the chair, pushing past Novice and marching into the kitchen. Novice followed behind, timid, as I leaned down and yanked open the sink cabinet. This was where my secret stash of Oaves Chocolate Cherry cookies were kept, secret, as in, why did my brothers breath smell like he ate the whole bag?
I took out the black bag and gave it a little shake, feeling only crumbs and empty promises inside. I turned to Novice with a glare.
"Asshole." I said.
There was no concern on my brothers face now. His eyes slowly lit up, lips turning into a mischievous smile.
"How," He whispered, awestruck. "Did you know that?"
I returned my gaze to the empty cookie bag, closing my eyes. I let my mind wander back to the bathroom, to my aching bones and exploding head. The memory sent shivers down my body, and after a second I shook it away. I couldn't remember anything save for my pain, and that wasn't enough to help us in our situation.
I turned back to Novice, regret full. "I don't know." I answered him. "Maybe the attack did something to me?"
I stood up, carefully leaning myself on the cabinet. I didn't want to take another fall again, or end up hurting myself more. I moved a strand of wild, curly brown hair away from my eyes. Novice locked onto my movement, staring carefully at my eyes. He squinted at me, his brows curling inwards.
"What?" I asked.
He shook his head, looking away from me. "Nothing, just thought I saw something."
I threw my head backwards, staring up at the ceiling with my hands gripping the cabinet behind me. "I've had enough with what you think you're seeing!" I groaned. "You're messed up, worried for me, I mean thanks but, this could all be stress related. Your mind on constant duty, sleep deprivation. It's okay Novice, I'm fine, you're fine, maybe you just need a nap. Or a therapist. Or both." I closed my eyes, waiting for his reply. However, I was only met with silence. I turned my head back down and found him belly down on the floor outside of Maggie's room, trying to peer under the crack in her door. I tapped my fingers on the counter in annoyance and sauntered over to where he was, waiting for a reply.
"Do you think we can get in? The doors locked, I've tried the window outside but it's closed tight and the shades are drawn." He pressed one eye against the door, his lithe fingers bracing it's bottom as if he could pull it up like blinds. I closed my eyes and counted slowly to ten before answering him with my anger barely contained.
"Why would we want to get into Maggie's room? What does she have to do with any of this?" I asked.
He broke contact from the door for a moment, making eye contact with me.
"She's the reason we were at the hospital, she's the reason you got so angry the other day, she hated you, doesn't that make you a even little bit suspicious?" He questioned.
"She's dead, Novice, and I don't want to think about her anymore." His argument made some valid points, though. Curiosity bit at my heels, and eventually I broke.
"Mom keeps spare keys to all of the rooms." I said. "She told me where she keeps them, since I'm the oldest."
Novice popped up off of the floor in excitement, and I immediately threw up both hands.
"But we can't touch anything, understand? Moms the one that's supposed to go through her stuff, so we can't take anything, and we can't move anything." I emphasized each instruction, and Novice nodded along, although I could tell he was hardly listening. His one track brain, like mine, was already ticking away.
"Wait here." I told him, and walked off to my mothers room.
Coming into her room, I felt an overwhelming sense of calm. I would come in here to sleep when I had nightmares as a child, and late on Friday nights she would tell fairy tales to us while we all hid under her blanket. They were her own version of traditional tales, though. She would change the races of some characters to match ours, change their situations and their sexualities. As I got older I began to admire this factor about her, she always made us feel like we belonged, even if there were others that told us we don't. 
Her room was made of beiges and royal reds. There was a dark wooden dresser on the wall opposite her bed, on top of which sat a pretty green bowl meant for holding keys and other small objects. She had filled it with a collection of fake miniature pine cones, and after sifting through them I found her spare keys at the bottom of the pile. They jingled in my hand as I walked back to Novice, who eagerly watched as I unlocked Maggie's door.
The lock clicked, and Novice made to open the door. I held it firmly shut, staring him down. "We touch nothing, we move nothing, right?"
My little brother nodded, and after a moments hesitation, I let the door swing open.
The similarities between Maggie's room and my mothers surprised me.
The walls were the same beige, with the windows curtained in deep reds. Her bed sat in the center of the room, comforted by a light green quilt. To the right wall was a dark wood dresser, identical to the one in my mothers room. On her dresser sat messy rows of incent bowls and religious candles. Long strands of purple fabric lay draped around every surface in her room, yet it never touched the floor. Unlike her wild array of candles the purple seemed more purposely strung. The floor was miraculously clean, no personal items or clutter to be seen.
I took a small step forwards, and Novice burst ahead. He made a b-line towards the dresser, running his hands over the candles and incenses without touching them. I stifled a laugh at his literal following of my rules, and started towards the bed.
I pressed my fingers against the soft fabric of Maggie's quilt. The bed was perfectly made, pillows and sheets all in perfect order. I walked to her right bedside table, which held an old lamp and an even older alarm clock. The drawer of the table was cracked open just slightly, and I wondered if Maggie left it that way, or if it just didn't close properly. I took hold of the knob and pulled it out.
Inside there was a crumpled piece of yellowing paper, on top of which sat a rope necklace with a wooden charm on it resembling a hammer. The whole drawer smelt like mold, and hesitantly I reached my hand it to take hold of the necklace -
"Valentine?"
My hand shuddered, and my head whipped around to see Novice standing right behind me. He had a small, mischievous smile on his face.
"I thought you said we weren't supposed to touch anything." He peered curiously into Maggie's drawer.
I closed it immediately, staring my brother down. "Yeah, I wasn't going to touch it."
Novices smile grew, knowing I was a liar, and he turned back to the dresser.
"She had nothing in her draws." He told me. "It was really weird, where does she put her clothes? There was nothing in her closet, either." He motioned towards the white door beside us, where there was a small built in closet. I walked towards it and peeked inside. Sure enough, Novice was right - not even a spec of dust to be seen.
I slowly closed the door, a feeling of eeriness in my body, and turned around. My little brother hovered beside me, bouncing nervously on his feet. I put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, smiling assuringly.
"It's fine, Novice, mom might've already cleaned out some of her stuff. Now let's get out, mom'll be home soon."
Novice nodded quickly and bounced out of the room, as if Maggie's carpet contained fire ants. I put my hand on the knob of her door, ready to close it, when my eyes once again caught sight of her night table. I thought about the necklace, it had looked nearly as old as the paper: roughly carved wood, rope that peeled at places and would probably give you one hell of a rash. What was on the paper, too? Did it belong with the necklace, or maybe it was just some old grocery list?
With I sigh, I shut the door slowly, locking it once again.