Our Tainted Dream

Three: M For Monster

He drowns in blood, I drown in tears.

My heart felt hollow and my chest heavy. I did not know the feelings going through me. I have never felt this way. Loss, broken, I hate it.

I hate it.

"I'm surprised you brother managed to sleep through all that noise." Father chuckled, deep in his throat. He killed her, he murdered her. His wife, my mother. My friend. But his clothes remained clean, all but his hands, bleeding red. And it was not his blood.

"Why?" I whimpered, choking in a sob. "What did she do?" His smirk dropped instantly, turning into a sneer as he bends to pick the knife on the floor, shining metal stained with darkening blood. He strode over and my heart leaped, footsteps smacking against the ground.

"She tried to protect you." Her body has gone cold. "She tried to take care of you." Her skin pale as paper.

Envy.

His green eyes were not empty like hers. His was full of life, enjoying every second, every tick of time. His eyes showed no remorse, no regret. Forest green that blazed with anger, and a tint of joy.

My throat burned, a knot forming, holding in ugly sobs. Her body was still in my lap, the words I struggled to say stuck in my throat. It's not my fault, it's not my fault.

It's my fault.

He dropped the knife on my lap, almost hitting mum's head. The sharp end slightly grazing against my knees. "Here's the deal." He began, the blade cold with drying blood. My knees trembling against hard tiles.

"I'm going back to my room." He continued. "And you're going to stay here." His now clean hands trailed above mum's wound, his figure leaning above me. He put a hand in mum's pierced stomach, staining his hand with blood once more before letting it linger above my head,

It drips, it drips...

The blood rolled down my forehead, ears, chin. "Papa—" I breathed, gasping as if there was a hand strangling my throat, choking me in thin air. "Don't bother apologizing, she won't forgive you anyway." I felt my eyes threatening to fall out. I didn't know if my eyelids could rise further, afraid.

My head spun, thoughts stirring and whispering. Brain knocking against my skull. 'Thump'

Everything goes black.

***

I saw her, smiling, laughing in a field of flowers. My mother. She looked beautiful, faint light illuminating her features, making her shine a beautiful glow. It's what people imagine heaven to be, a field of flowers, gentle winds... I reached out, her smile drawing me in. She was close, inches away from me. I reached and I reached.

And she faded away.

A white light blinded my vision, making me blink rapidly. I woke up, head throbbing. The surroundings were different, unfamiliar. "You're awake?" A woman asked, taking my wrist. Judging by the uniform... the hospital.

Around the corner, I saw a familiar face—no, two familiar faces. One a man and one a boy. Both green eyes, both dark haired. They sat on a couch in the room.

Loureis fiddled with his fingers, locking it and letting it intertwine each other. While father's eyes were glued to the floor, face dark in a mad aura.

Now I wished I hadn't wake. If I could stay in that dream longer. The dripping of blood haunted me still, and I remember, yesterday—or perhaps longer—everything that happened. Mum's scream, her dying body, her whispers, her gift, her note. And it made me want to go back to sleep. The metal necklace freezing against my chest, and the ring around my finger seemed to tighten.

"Mum?" I pushed myself up, trying my best not to fall back down, head beating with every pulse. "Where is she?" I call, hoping everything that happened was but a dream. I hit my head, I fell and passed out. Nothing more than that. But dreams can only stay as dreams.

Father's head jolted towards me, his eyes ablaze, pure menace painting his features. "Don't act daft." He scowled, trying to sound fatherly. Next to him, my brother wept. She was dead, and nothing could change that.

"I hate you." Loureis murmured, his shoulders shaking, holding back tears. The words stung, more than a piercing feeling. Never have I heard him mutter those words. Where is the 'I love you,' I hear every day?

"Loureis—"

"Stop acting kind!" He yelled, making me wince. "You killed her; I saw the knife in your hands. You tried to kill him too!" He glanced at father, his green eyes watery. "I thought you were my brother."

"I don't understand what you're saying—"

"Enough." Father grunts, silencing us both."

Loureis sniffed, his breathing ragged and heavy. He leaned into father's chest, snuggling as he cried harder. Father didn't hesitate to hug him back, quickly wrapping his arms around his son.

The nurse took out a needle, a syringe. I wanted to go home, I wanted to go home and see her again. She is not dead. I told myself. I could only lie. I could feel bandages wrapped around my head like an unfinished mummy, bleeding from my little struggle. The beeping sound beeped faster, taking note of my increasing heartbeat.

The nurse looked at me, her eyes void of any emotions, despite the smile on her lips. I thought nurses to be kind, boy was I wrong. The syringe went under my skin and into my veins. I do not flinch, my eyes locked on my brother. The memories—yesterday or longer, the scream, the body, the blood—mum. They all hurt too much.

Everything went black again.