Eclipse (#Wattys2016)

Teaser/Chapter 1

I almost regretted my screaming match at my mother, but it was worth it. In fact, if that was what I had to do to get my way, then I would do it again. Even if it meant that I had to skip dinner.

Not that it mattered anyway. I could always sneak out of my room and grab some food from the kitchen.

Like tonight.

I peeled back the covers and scrambled out of my room, into the hallway, down the stairs. What was I going to eat tonight: oreos or vanilla wafers? I was hungry enough to eat a bag of both.

Right when I was about to enter the kitchen, I stopped. I had a terrible feeling that something was really, really wrong.

But how could it hurt to enter and scrounge some food? I would go in really quick, and I'd be up in my room before I knew it. That's all.

Oh, I wish I hadn't. I wouldn't have had to watch the blood pool out of his wounds, soaking into the floor. I wouldn't have seen the knife, sticking out of his abdomen, sucking the life out of him like a vacuum. I wouldn't have felt so completely, utterly hopeless. I wouldn't have cradled my brother's limp body in my arms.

"Marge," he whispered. "Don't let me die alone, Marge."

"You're not going to die," I cried. "I won't let you."

"You'll try." He gave a wracking cough, a cough of blood.

"Who did this, Alec? What did you ever do to deserve this?"

"I don't want to end my moments by telling you about my murderer. You already know him. Please, just let me spend this little time I have left with someone I love."

"Okay, Alec. I won't push you. But you aren't leaving me. You won't die. I'll take you to the hospital--I'll do anything. You're going to survive."

He gave me a sad smile. "I'm not. You know that."

I kept my mouth shut: he was right and I couldn't do anything about it.

"Marge, listen to me. Don't listen to anyone else; you're smart. I know you. You'll figure out the mystery soon enough, I don't worry about that. And once you do, I'm afraid what choice you will make. Promise me that you'll think it through. Promise me."

"I promise."

"Don't trust anyone, okay? They aren't who they seem."

"Who? Who aren't who they seem?"

Blood shot out of his mouth, and I could tell that he struggled to talk. "I love you, Marge, don't forget that. When you need someone, just know"--he coughed again, the blood pouring down his shirt--"that I'll always be there for you."

Tears tumbled down my face, and I replied with the only response that was respectable. "I love you too, Alec. Don't leave me."

But he already was, and I had to position my ear next to his mouth to hear what he said next. "Look deeper, Margaret. Promise me."

"I promise!" I cried.

I leaned down next to his mouth again, waiting for him to spout out more nonsense; to hear his sweet, rich voice one last time. I waited for his breath to tickle my ear, or for him to exclaim that it was all a joke. But his words never came.

Neither did his breath.

"NO!" I howled in despair, burying my head into Alec's cold, sticky chest. Abruptly, I tore the knife out of his abdomen, angry that someone had done this, angry that I wasn't there to prevent Alec from getting hurt in the first place. I screamed and I kicked and I thrashed about, unsure of what I was doing, of what I had done, of what I was going to do.