Who was Taurus? I didn't even know anymore, a shiver ran along my spine, had he planned this, had I walked into a trap, was this his jealous love his need to posess a beautiful thing? His need for ownership. It's funny how when your young you Orbit certain people, my brother was a god to me as a child and every word he spoke dripped into my ears disappearing into the folds of my subconsciousness. Yet as time evolved, I became different, he became different, and suddenly I was observing a different type of man, someone at times who seemed foreign to me, someone who made me walk on tripwires, cautious of my shadow, yet I remained loyal to the self that I believed once remained. "When did you change?" I was sat opposite him at the breakfast table, not really tasting the cornflakes , yet watching them dissolve into the bowl of milk. "When did you change?" I crushed out. I wanted to scream, ive wanted to scream this whole time, with fear a shadow at my side and Taurus the puppet master. " I changed because nice doesn't get you by," he looked up at me, his eyes void now of emotion, his expression blank.
"Nice doesn't get the job done."
"Did you plan this?"
"You mean do beautiful things just die or disappear around me," I thought of the counselling sessions that had stopped, the outings with friends who had left the house spooked, and the prayer on my tongue sank deeper into my heart. I searched his gaze for a sign of the boy I could remember. " Shit T who killed you?" That sentence jolted him for a minute,
" I guess ive been resurrected." A slow sinister smile crept across his face. "Blood," he uttered, " it was like a painting, blood everywhere."
I knew it then, what id suspected for many years of my youth, the question that lurked beneath the sheets, the answer that danced before the dawn, my brother was a psychopath, and Ivy Lane was not the first. Yet would she be the last? Everything was like a dominoe effect, one thing toppling another, sending our house of cards crumbling. The illusion of family, of normalcy, crumbling to the floor. Who were they? And would I be next?
YOU ARE READING
November 4th
Teen FictionOlivia is an awkward teenage girl, with a secret. Sadly it's a secret she can't remember, and this memory loss is more than inconvenience. It is her freedom. The blackouts started at the age of twelve,now their getting much worse along with the epil...
