The Last One Home

Part 22

Max and Lana both screamed in unison. Their terrified shrieks rang out in the dark house. Like a sizzling tea kettle, hours of terror, hours of pain and death escaped them in animal wails.

Fear shown in their mother's eyes as she glanced down at the blade embedded in her chest. Crimson began to bloom around the handle. Each breath brought a raspy gurgle. No longer being held up by the grinning man, she slowly sank to her knees.

Lana was the first one to get to her. Avoiding the protruding handle, she got her shoulder under her mother's arm to support her.

Max felt rooted to the ground. He had no idea where the man had gone, but he no longer cared. He lowered the gun and let it drop to the floor. Finally, he was able to take a step and joined his sister at his mother's side.

With a lump in his throat, he eyed the rapidly spreading stain at his mother's breast. Tears stung his eyes and his vision blurred. He had never felt so helpless in his life. He could tell by his twin's sobbing that she felt the same way.

"No...No...No...No...No..."Max muttered. "Come on, mom. Keep your eyes open. Come on!"

Gently lowering his mother to the floor, he knew not to remove the knife. Attempting to staunch the bleeding, he pressed his hands around the letter opener.

His mother's eyes were closed. He couldn't tell if she was breathing. Even in the dark house he could tell her skin had become a sickly pale color.

"She's dead! Oh God, she's dead!" His sister was screaming from somewhere behind him.

"She's dead! She's dead! She's dead!"

He wanted to scream back at her to shut up. Her shrill voice sliced through his brain. Her having a breakdown wasn't helping anyone.

Prepared to do just that, he glanced back at his sister. He had never heard her pick up the gun, but now she was pointing it at his face.

Max brought his hands up above his head in surrender. They were slick with blood.

"Lana, what the hell are you doing?"

"You killed her." She whispered. "This is all your fault."

"It's not my fault."

"You brought him here!"

Her words stung. The barrel of the gun quivered in her hand.

"You said it yourself! You screwed up! Your the reason this psychopath is here and your the reason mom is dead!" She emphasized each you as she spit the hateful words.

Max had no response. He knew his sister was right. She had every reason to hate him.

"You have always been so selfish! You don't call! You don't visit! We practically had to beg you to go to dad's funeral!"

It was true. He hadn't wanted to go to dad's funeral. Not because he didn't care, but because he didn't want to see his father lying in a box. He didn't have the faith that his sister had. He wasn't sure if there was a heaven or hell, or if life just stopped. Quite frankly, he was terrified to find out.

"Mom tried so hard to keep this family together. She always gave you the benefit of the doubt, and now she's gone."

Max never thought his sister would shoot him. He wasn't even sure if she had ever held a gun. But now, she was staring him down with a heavy finger on the trigger.

"I don't know where we can go from here." She said with hopelessness in her voice.

She glanced down at the crumpled form of their mother on the floor.

The shot rang out like thunder in the still, dark house.