Two Worlds

Chapter 4

The embers ran wild, as they twisted and took off, the energy they radiated was all consumed by the hatred, as they dazzled and gleamed, while their luminous existence was annihilated by the same fire that gave rose to them. The ashes held agony, as they burnt and died,the last of their breaths were glows that ran wild.

The cinders spoke unknown words to his heart, as his fingers stirred the warm air. The little sparks writhed unevenly until they dropped and embraced their end.

There would be that one flicker, and it seemed as the flame was startled by his thoughts. It resumed its pattern, until once more it seized its motion and shivered before him.

The scarlet bricks appeared almost as melted, the skim of the heat struck and slid off the ancient walls. These were the bricks that made the roof under which he had always found himself, and made the floors on which he had always walked. He detested the terra cotta and fabric like scent of the edifice, it held memories. He absolutely detested it.

"Lift me up big brother!" A little girl's merry voice called, and then there was be laughter. "Higher! Higher!"

His eyes felt thawed in the fire place, as he watched the ashes and the cinders, his back to the world.

He heard claps, the surfaces strike, and each step of his injected malevolence in his heart, his chest heavy, his mind far away, yet closer than each breath they took.

"Brother," a small hand shook his shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He faced the small child, his eyes momentarily got lost in the dark chocolate pools, as just for that brief moment he saw all that could have been, and then the aversion flowed back in, through the smallest of pores and he realized it was all that could have been. All he could have been, but was not, and never would be.

He turned back to the flames that swallowed the tiny chips of wood.

"Brother, play with us, please," the little girl's voice was pleading.

He felt the warmth stroke his face, slightly whipped by the surrounding air. The heat was hell, but hell was home, so it felt pleasant to his empty soul.

He felt flesh lightly caress his arm. The rage broke in and his will felt weak as he ferociously knocked off the little girl's cautious hand.

The child gasped, her coal black locks shivered with her movement.

"That's enough Katie, come back," the commanding male voice ordered.

The girl did as she was told, and hid behind the a tall figure, the shadow of which ever so slightly kissed the end of the wall.

"You are nothing. You are a disgrace to this family," he spat at the boy.

The boy smiled, and he could taste the bitterness of the words which would follow even before his mind had sought them out. He felt all the hatred and poison inside him melt on his tongue and materialize into the dirt they were.

"Shut up, son of a bitch." He could picture just how his eyes widened, though the boy was not facing him, and he could almost hear that click, when his teeth gritted together and how he was trying to supress the rage he felt.

He took steady and deep breaths. "I won't allow you to use that kind of language in this house. Mind your manners, I'm warning you."

His eyes widened and he faced the man, the fake expression of shock painted on his face. "What family? What house?" he asked, amused. "What manners?" He laughed once. "This isn't a family, it's a herd of bastards, this house," he said standing, up pointing at the walls. "It's not a house, these damn bricks were glued together with blood," he closed his eyes and smiled once more.