Dear Brother.

Chapter Three: Ashe

I needed to get away, but apparently, it wasn't an option right now. It was about one a.m. in the morning, and for some reason, my grandma was baking in the kitchen. She was a damned vampire, I friggin swear, when I was younger I thought I saw her drinking blood while watching late night TV. Turns out it was just wine because when I went to taste it after I snuck into the room, it burned my throat and I immediately threw up.

"Grandma?"

She jumps high, spinning around on her heel as she holds her hand against her chest.

"Sam, my word!"

"Sorry," I say sheepishly.

She waves me off, returning to her bustling throughout the kitchen.

"What's the matter, dear?"

I look down at the floor, my heart picking up as dread filled it again. Why was I such an open book, did the emotions show so clearly on my face? When I meet someone, do they see the inner turmoil? Hi, my name's Sam, I'm having another mental break down lovely to meet you!

I debated on casually stepping around the subject, but I know she'd see right through me. Grandma had that kind of strange lie detector quality built into her, after five kids, I guess I understand where it came from.

"Just having a bad night, I guess."

I took a seat on the island in the middle of the floor. There were items scattered about, and when I placed my hands on the wooden surface, I could feel the gritty remains of cupcake ingredients sticking to my skin.

"I've got too much on my brain."

She laughed at this, though I don't know what was so funny about my lack of sanity.

"You're too hard on yourself, Sam."

I sighed, ducking my head down in annoyance. I couldn't expect anyone to understand what I was talking about, mainly since I never talked about it before. Hell, I barely told the therapists my parents insisted I still visit from time to time. Most of the time I talked about random shit anyways.

"You're just much too hard on yourself."

What?

I blinked, but there was nothing in front of me, I rubbed my eyes. Where are my hands?

"Sam, my word!"

My mouth was dry, and it felt hard to breathe. Heartbeat loud in my ears, I could barely hear the shuffle of feet along the floor.

"What's the matter, dear?"

Grandma?

I kept blinking, trying to catch anything but darkness. Did the power go out? My back is warm. I reached out behind me and felt soft fabric.

"You're too hard on yourself, Sam."

It was right in my ears. A sharp pain erupted from the back of my neck and slipped into my head. I didn't make a noise.

"You're just much too hard on yourself."

One blink and a blinding light crowded my vision, but I saw red. Behind the haze, my Grandma smiled at me. Wasn't she behind me?

"Sam, my word!"

Wait, is she repeating herself? Too many questions. I'm a broken fucking record, what the hell. Stop.

"What's the matter, dear?"

Stop.

"You're much too hard on yourself."