Dear Stanley [Watty's 2019. Completed]

What happened that day

January 31st

Mom and Dad were gone.

They left the house, going somewhere for a date.

There were no words to name the emotion that Stanley was feeling. Relief? Happiness. Elation?

He hadn't taken his dose since yesterday and he was beginning to feel agitated, beginning to feel weak, beginning to feel angry.

The only other person in the house was Nicolas. But Stanley wasn't worried about him. He learned that Nicolas was eager to please him - would do anything Stanley wanted.

Stanley faintly remembered feeling a strong warm emotion towards Nicolas. He forgot what it felt like.

Was it love?

He was confused and pondering this - what he used to have with his younger brother. An unbreakable connection perhaps? A friendship so powerful that they thought nothing could intervene?

He forgets and after a moment, he doesn't care. His hand is shaking uncontrollably and he knows he has a drawer full of goodies, full of things that could solve his crave.

He's been an addict for some time now and he honestly believes that drugs aren't bad. Parents just say that to scare children, but drugs are what saved him. Drugs help him forget about the pressure everyone has on him to be the perfect child - his Mom, his Dad, his brother.

And he was very good at masking his addiction. Or maybe they were very good at pretending.

He feels like everything disappears when he's high. He feels as if the world isn't black and white, instead it's full of rainbows.

Stanley has always wanted to escape but he never knew how. He used to always love New York, it was his dream to go there one day.

But he didn't have the money and his parents wouldn't ever let him go. So he found his escape using something else.

Heroin, cocaine, marijuana, PCP...

He had it all.

He excitedly opened the bottom drawer that contained his stash. He noticed how weak and pale his arm was compared to the deep chocolate wood. He wondered when he got so thin.

The drawer was proving difficult to open, so Stanley screamed a curse word. He felt the familiar rage bubble inside of him, clouding his vision. It always happened when he didn't get his dose on time.

Just as he managed to wiggle the drawer loose, his bedroom door slammed open.

He forgot to lock it.

"Is everything ok? I heard you scream so..."

Stanley whipped his head to face Nicolas and Nicolas was focusing on the piles of drugs in Stanley's drawer. Stanley recognized disbelief, shock, disgust on his face. Nicolas was ashamed by Stanley.

"Are those...drugs?" Nicolas whispered, his voice barley audible.

Stanley didn't want to respond. He felt embarrassed that Nicolas was seeing him at his worse state, because Nicolas always idolized him. But then that made him angry. He didn't want to feel embarrassed. He was getting angrier, the need inside of him increasing. He ignored Nicolas and looked for the particular one he needed. The one that would cure his rage for the moment.

Once he found the tablets, with shaky hands he tried to open the cap. It was difficult and he grunted.

Then the bottle was knocked out of his hands and Stanley hissed. He felt the cords in his neck sticking out. Red painted his vision, fogged his mind.

"I'm telling Mom and Dad." He heard Nicolas say.

Stanley began to panic. He stood up on shaky legs and pointed at the boy in front of him, the boy he used to love so very much, the boy he would've died for.

"You fucking bitch!" He screamed.

And then he lunged.

He tackled Nicolas to the ground as Nicolas trashed about, trying to wrestle free of Stanley's grip. Nicolas knew that Stanley was gone, that he was replaced by something else. A demon.

Nicolas pushed Stanley off of him and Stanley growled. He couldn't think straight. He didn't know his own name.

And Nicolas was scared. Scared for his life.

They both pushed themselves of the ground and Stanley glared at Nicolas. He started backing him against the wall. He knew he had a knife in his back pocket, he had grown accustomed to carrying it everywhere after he got into the drug business since the people were shady.

With trembling hands, he reached into his jean pockets and pulled the blade out. The silver glinted.

Nicolas was trapped in the corner of the room and Stanley approached closer, a beastly expression on his face. Nicolas had no choice but to dive underneath Stanley as he pounced, and grab the lamp by the drawer.

And at the exact same moment when Stanley felt the glass bulb of the lamp crack his skull and shatter into a million pieces, Nicolas felt the knife dig into his abdomen.

You see, there once were two brothers who loved each other to the end.

But now one of them was dead.

And Nicolas was the one who killed him.