Our Tainted Dream

Fоur: She Is With Me

Brothers but not, Family but not.

I stare at the ring wrapped around my finger, thin gold with a rose-shaped crystal. A fine beauty for a woman. But I wear it nonetheless. Father left with his belt twenty minutes ago, but the wounds he gave me still sting from the lemon juice.

I caress the ring around my finger, the necklace around my neck, the scars around my wrist. Each one a memory of its own, each one sending shivers down my spine.

I shift my body, hoping to get some comfort from the concrete wall. It would be so nice to throw myself on a bed. Soft pillows instead of hard bricks.

But my complains can only take me so far. The dim light flickers above my head, sound of sparks filling the room. The floor now stained with dry blood, rusted nails and chains, a desk and a chair in the corner. It's almost like a prison. A prison only for me.

I flop to my side, back sliding against the wall, staining it with more red. The cold air has never been so harsh, making my fingers slightly tremble, pale as the deceased.

"Here," Loureis murmurs, throwing a dark blue blanket at me from the desk. Thin but fluffy. Though I lay down, exhausted. I try to reach out, trying to grab the blanket a few feet away from me. But his grunt stops me, the chair scraping the floor as he stands.

"You really can't do anything." He sneers as he picks the blanket up, not even bending his knee.

"You didn't have to help." I whisper, his hand lightly caressing the thin fabric. "Yeah," He replies, "I know. But he'll kill me if you freeze to death. That'll be no fun would it?" He chuckles, raising one dark brow.

He throws the blanket over me, covering my entire body from the cold air, including my head.

"Homework?" I quietly ask, trying to start a conversation after minutes of silence. He―like always―doesn't answer and continues on, whatever he was doing on the desk.

Seconds later, he answers.

"It's February." He sighs, ruffling his dark locks, scruffy and unkempt. "Twenty second."

Slowly, I sigh too, letting my eyes roll back as I close them, opening them again after a few seconds. February 22nd, the day before death knocked on mum's door.

"I guess I won't be able to visit her." I whisper under my breath, expecting no one to hear. But in a quiet room, one that echoes especially can easily be heard. He leans his back against the chair, kicking his legs forward, shoes polished and clean, office shoes that taps with every step. "Nah, I'll go with you." He murmurs. "I want to visit her too. Besides, I don't want to hear your rants about not being able to see her.

"Not that she wants to see you.

"But in return," He stands again, bringing his book and dropping it in front of me. "Help me solve this little shit." I try my best to sit up, the warm blanket wrapped around my back. I can't help the smile creeping to my lips, a mixture of sad memories and not.

"Your language is pretty high standard for someone who can't solve equations." I joke, laughing a little in my chest. And after a moment I feel as if we're back at home. A sanctuary without slaughter or murder, a family helping each other with their homework.

"Shut your darn mouth, or I'll sew it shut." He grunts, waiting for my answer. I take the book with shaking fingers, trying my best not to stain it with drying blood.

He grunts again, getting impatient. Typical. "So?" He crosses his arms, standing tall before me. I turn the book so he can see. "You need to find x first. Then you can solve the others. You know how to find it, right?"