Our Tainted Dream

Twenty Seven: Sibling Love

My pain ends here, but another comes.

I tumble off the bed once more, vivid green eyes burning into mine. His hands are so warm and smooth, yet so strong against my throat.

The whispers hiss and hiss, spitting venom against my ears. The words aren't clear, but it turns the screws in my head anti-clockwise.

With each whisper I lose control, with each whisper I lose sanity.

Another slap to the cheeks.

"For the third time!" Kei gasps, prying my fingers off his neck.

My eyes roll back as I close them, still straddling the gasping boy. I bring my hands to my head, rubbing it against my face. Again and again, almost as if I could feel warm blood on it.

I laugh at the absurdity, almost cackling as I grip his shirt,

"Reid... are you sure you don't need any treatment?" Kei asks, almost alarmed. I know a therapist nearby."

"What?" I cackle, my brain fuzzing and ringing. "Treatment? Why would I need any?"

"Because you look insane."

Bingo.

He said the keyword.

Ah crap I forgot that Gray's in the room.

I glance at her, fast asleep on my bed. Her hand travels all over the sheets, searching for my body to hug

I clench my fists as I sigh, trying to stop them from trembling; but they quiver nevertheless.

"Insane," I echo, my eyes darting back and forth as I got off of him. One breath after the other, they start to hiss once more.

More and more.

"Reid?" Kei calls, almost in a hurry to back away.

It's a matter of time until it envelopes you.

Kei's P.O.V

Why is it that now fear struck me? After his three times of strangling my throat. Why do I fear now?

His fingers twitch, his laughter echoes. Has he lost it? Has he lost his mind?

I've always had little scenarios playing in my head. But of course, my imagination is not as wild as Gray. Or am I just imagining his glowing eyes? Artificial that reflects the soothing moonlight.

Now haunting.

Something glazes over his eyes; a flash I've only seen once. In the basement, dark and cold. Daniel. His green eyes bright like no other; glazed and flashed with insanity and malice.

And I see his father in him.

I swear, Gray could sleep through a plane crash and have no idea what happened. But as I call for her, her eyes flutter open, glancing left and right.

One step, at a time; laughter after laughter.

"Gray, the window—"

The fucking window, this fucking needle at my wrist—

"I had a fun time, Gray." He laughs, his head twitching, his hands quivering. In a matter of seconds, his tone changes. "So much fun, it's almost a sin."