Lovely Obsession

Sickening

Blake

I never did anything in that room. Mom would bring me food. Her cooking - it was atrocious. I mean, I always use to gag and cringe at her cooking before when I was at her house.

But now...

Let's just say I always puked at the mere first second taste.

"WHY'D YOU SPIT IT OUT!?" She'd screech when she'd find out, "EAT IT! EAT YOUR VOMIT, YOU DISGUSTING CHILD!" Her grip was tight on my hair, and she shoved my face at the wall, "EAT IT!"

Then my food would be leaves and grass... Or nothing.

Some days I felt at near death from the lack of food. From all the scratching at the walls I did, the bark was on the floor. I'd eat it. The blanket. I'd tear pieces apart and eat that. 

I'd choke.

I was never, ever allowed out the room. Ever. If I so much looked at the door, Mother would snap. "WHAT'RE YOU THINKING!?" She'd cry, "OF LEAVING!?"

Slap.

I had nothing to do. Just the empty room, and a torn apart blanket. Oh, and that bucket. The bucket that was called my bathroom.

I'd always count to myself. When I was fully awake, I'd start to count. One, two, three, four...

When Mom came in, I'd still count. I was four, so I didn't know the whole order of numbers, it was vague when it reached hundreds. I still tried, though.

I still tried my best when she'd smack me around.

And when I slept. People say if you count when you're in bed, you sleep. That's not true. I kept counting, sometimes starting over. But I never got any sleep.

I was too afraid to sleep.

Here's why:

Imagine me, a boy, age four, wrapped in the dirty, ripped apart blanket. The kid's nearly asleep. His captor walks in the room, shutting the door behind her. She lays down next to him. He doesn't realize just yet. "I miss your father..." She grabbed the boy's wrist. He then acknowledged her being there. He opened his eyes. His captor moved his hand to her thighs, "I miss his touch. Blake," Her lips pressed against his neck, "You could touch me like your father did, if you want."

He never moved that whole night. He pretended he was still asleep. Eventually, after biting his neck with a giggle, she got up and left the room. The boy lied there, empty.


Near the end of the second month, I had lost my guard and slept. But in the middle of the night, while I was in my slumber, something broke it. 

My eyes opened, and I shifted to the side. I tried to sleep, counting again.

One, two, three, four, five...

I heard a faint sound out the door.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven...

I heard the door knob turn.

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen...

The door creaked open.

Sixteen...

"Blake?"

Seventeen.


My eyes slowly widened. It wasn't Mom's voice. It was deep, a man, it...

I sat up and turned around. My eyes went wide, my heart slammed hard against my chest.

There, standing at the door way, was my Father. 

His brown eyes were wide with confusion and shock. His curls of dark hair were tangled and frizzled. Feather-like, still. But more like charred, ripped feathers. 

"... Da-?" I fully turned around. My lip quivered, no, my entire body. It was hard to choke the words through, "Daddy?" 

"... Blake," Desperation was washed all over his face. He jumped in the room, running towards me. As soon as he got close, he fell to his knees and once he slid to me, he wrapped his arms around me. 

It made me flinch, I almost screamed. To see someone coming towards me, to feel them hugging me, it made the hammer and slaps  and choking and knife and blood come back into play. But then my Dad hugged me tight, enough to hurt, but he still felt... Right.

"Blake," He was crying - weeping uncontrollably. His fingers were curled in my hair. His entire body was shaking, "Oh my God, Blake. Blake, Blake. Is it you? I'm not dreaming? Oh dear God, tell me I'm not dreaming."

His tears were going down fast. I felt them on my tangled, unkept hair, trailing to my scalp. I had been frozen as he embraced me. When he jumped toward and hugged me, the wave of emotion washed over me. 

"... Please tell me you're..."  He wept, "Okay..."

The tears escaped my eyes, penetrating his shoulder. I bit my lip and grabbed his sleeve, crying.

"... It's okay now." He said, trying to calm his voice. I opened my eyes. Most of my view was blocked by his shoulder. But I still saw the figure standing at the door way. "Blake, don't you worry." Dad's grip on my tightened. The figure moved their hand, revealing a sharp bladed object. My eyes went wide. "Everything's okay now-"

"DAD!-" I tried to push him too the side, but he was too big, and my body was too weak and sore. It would have been too late, anyway. 

The figure flashed towards us. Fast. We made eye contact for half a second. Then it got beyond close, blocking the rest of my vision.

Suddenly Dad pressed harder against me. He let out a gasp. There was a scuffle. 

I went still, eyes wide. I felt the sticky blood stick to myself. But I didn't feel any pain.  Besides my heart, anyway. It was wrenching, about to explode from being squished.

The figure behind Dad was still crouched slightly behind him. Their hands to his back, clutching something.

"Sto-" Dad coughed. His voice was hoarse and choked up. His body started to shake again, yet at the same time, I could feel his numbness. 

His pain.

"... Sweetie," The figure behind my Father said. Her voice was just oozing sick joy, "It's great that you came to visit on time."

No-

Mom jumped away, yanking their hand away from Dad's back. What I heard was a stiff cackling sound, and a splatter. It was immediately cut off by Dad's scream. 

A hand grabbed Dad's shoulder and pulled him away in an instant. He went back about three feet, then slammed right on his back. As he did, he screamed.

My response? Most would say, go to is aid - help him. I didn't do that. I just crawled back in sheer horror. So I just... Watched. Watched and cried. And God knows watching and crying cannot fix anything.

Dad was lying on his back, shaking like crazy. He reached behind him to grab his back. Red... Red was starting to form a puddle underneath him. Eyes squinting, skin whitening, he moved his hand up above his head.

It was slathered in red.

"It's about time that you..." Mom was standing behind Dad, looking down at him. She wasn't looking at me, but I could see the sickness in her eyes as she smiled, "That you returned. If you came to look for Blakie, then we are all a family that loves each other..."

Dad shifted to his side slightly, showing more of the red liquid. He looked at me, almost wincing. I stared back, tears in my eyes, "Da-"

"That's why," Mom knelt down next to Dad, "To be together forever, without the interference of those rats..." She rose her bloody knife. "Sweetie, can you still hear me? It'll be quick, I promise. However, not a quick, quick death. I want us all to go around the same time, so..." She slammed the knife down.

I just barely had enough time to close my eyes. When I did, I heard Dad's scream. Twice as loud. Twice as painful. 

"Sto-...!" I just barely managed to choke out.

"Does it hurt?" Mom asked Dad as he winced, shaking in pain. "Just wait awhile-"

"STOP IT!" I wish it came out stronger. It hadn't. It was shaky, and it cracked at the end. It almost cracked in the middle. "ST-STO-!"

"See?" Mom stood up from her place. I stiffened. The red - the blood... It was all over Dad now. He was just shaking now. His eyes were half closed. "This has to end quick, it's making Blake very sad."

No...

Everything was starting to blur as Mom walked close to me.

No...

She knelt down in front of me.

No...

"Blake," She smiled, softly. Blood was smeared on her cheek. It's as if she wiped it hand in Dad's blood and then smeared it on herself. "Remember? I love you two very much. Remember that story I told you? In death, those two were together forever and ever. I wanted to keep you here and test your Daddy. He does love you, that's why he found you. Now we're all here. We all love each other." She lifted the bloody knife with her bloody hand. "That's... Just how much I love you two."

"...We'll..." She tilted the knife towards me. I just pressed my back harder against the wall, shutting my eyes tight. "Always be together..."

I waited.

"... But..."

... Huh?

"I..."

Nothing.

I could feel the smile on Mom's face, the tears slipping down to her chin, "Just awhile longer, you could have alone time, until you're older..." She said, "Bring a friend of yours, another lover. Four makes it..." I heard the blade tilt again, "Less lonely for you."

I heard the rush of the blade, but nothing except shock hit me. I heard my Mother's quivering cries. When I opened my eyes, I just... Went empty. That's the best I could describe it.

Mom was now lying on the floor in front of her. Grasped in her hands was the knife. It was lodged into her stomach. Deeply. It was shoved in there. And she kept trying to make it deeper.

More red. 

She wasn't looking at me. Her half open, emptying eyes were distant as she quivered.

I looked up.

"Da-" I leaned forward and clasped my hands on the floor. Quickly, I crawled over to him, "Dad?" I grabbed his bloody coat, shaking like mad. My vision was completely blinded by tears, my lip quivering. It was hard to speak clearly, "Da - Dad? Please, wa-"

"Bl-Bla-" He coughed a bit. I was in panic. I just kept grabbing at him, despite how bloody he was, "My... Yo-Your uncle Liam, he's o-outside. I need you to g-go to hi-him."

Outside? As in...? No, I can't. Things had to have changed, everything's different. It'll try to kill me, I-!

"Dad," I pulled on his arm, causing him to wince, "Daddy, co-come on, let's go."

"Bla-"

"C-Come on!" I grabbed his sleeve tighter. "Da - Let's g-go!"

"Stop-"

"DAD-!"

"Bla-" He choked out. It started to crack, "-Ke-..."

My eyes went wide. I couldn't move, I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe.

"... Dad?"

He remained still.


After an hour of sobbing in that room, lying down between my Mother and Father, I finally left. Blood was slathered on my body. I discovered I was right, it was a cabin. I made my way down the dusty hallway, and arrived outside.

It was dark. Dark and... Empty. 

I circled the house, looking for Uncle Liam. I wanted him to hug me, to ruffle my hair, and to say, "It's alright, Buddy." I needed that. I needed that so much.

But when I rounded the corner of the cabin, all I saw was a bloody corpse, with multiple stab wounds. I stared at it for hours, before leaving.


The sun was starting to rise, and I was still roaming. The blood had dried at this point, but the horrid memory was still glued onto it. Onto me.

The forest looks the same in the morning. But the atmosphere... That sick, upsetting atmosphere... It clung to me. It never left.

It never, ever, left.

I was walking aimlessly in the forest, in the tall grass when I heard someone.

"Hey!"

I kept walking, trying to ignore it. A large potion of me thought it was my head, still replaying all the voices and memories. The other half was too empty, too hollow to care.

"Kid,"

Dad.

I heard the footsteps behind me.

"Kid!"

I stopped.

It was a man's voice at first, "What're you doing out here?" He asked. I remained still, motionless.

Now it was a woman's voice, "Are you lost?"

Completely motionless.

"... Hey, kid!" The man said again. I heard him approaching me from behind, "Look at me!"

Slowly, I looked over my shoulder, eyes empty and soft.

Yeah. There was three people. A man and a woman, around their thirties, and a boy behind them, in his early teens.

People.

All their eyes went wide, "Are you...?" The man uttered.

I swayed to the side. My head was heavy. 

"What-" The man said again, eyes narrowed, "Kid, what's your name?"

I just stared.

"Are you..." The woman said, looking very much shocked, "Bla-?"

She didn't have to continue.

craziness does run in that family, all should be avoided at all costs. Agh man, again with one of my ersearch mantras full of crazy abduction cases. I'll post more quickily after many edits, I got a lot written recently, but didn't post till now ;;. NaNoWriMo starts too so