Killing our Dead

Chapter 1: Happy Song

I'll never enjoy winter. Each breath I take in feels agonizingly slow, and the crisp air that's enveloping my throat made me choke out in protest. I instinctively shove my hands into my pockets, letting out an inaudible grumble alongside the action.

"You're seriously done already?" Tucker trots up beside me. His unruly, auburn-brown hair falls atop his face as he leans over and rests his elbows on his knees. He breathes heavily, his back shuddering with each uneven and rushed breath. I shoot him a glare, and he looks up at me and lets out a large grin.

"How could I not be?!" I put my hands on my hips, shaking my head at the situation. "You're a phsyco! I was just going for a leisurely jog, and you had the nerve to go and lap me, twice!"

Tucker straightens his back up, sweat dripping from his face and matted up hair. He furrows his eyebrows, and stares at me with his large, hazel eyes. A kaleidoscope of colors stares back at me, and I'm momentarily in awe. It's not because of his looks and kindness, or how he was perfectly imperfect is every way I could think of.

I do the one thing I hate myself for thinking. I doubt him. I doubt the eyes staring at me, just as I question the intent behind them. Every feature about him reminded me of it. Reminded me of what left me shattered and beyond repair, both physically and mentally. It's malevolent intentions mixed with Tucker's kindness, and I was beginning to struggle on deciphering the two from each other. The manipulative bastard had made me doubt even my own sibling. It made me scared of him.

"Ellie? Ellie!" His voice rings like a knife, breaking me out of my thoughts. He grabs onto both my shoulders, looks me dead in the eyes, and says with his voice seeping with fear, "what the hell, Ellie! You completely zoned out, and your face's paler than a damn ghost!" He stared at me, the concern and frown on his face clearly genuine.

"I- I'm fine," I whisper, staring at the ground. "Tucker, can I ask you something?"

He glances at me for a second, before slipping out a hesitant "ok?".

I keep staring at the ground, biting at my lip. All the air in my lungs seems to have escaped as I croak out the question, "are you around me just because you have to?"

I glance up at him, and he averts his eyes from mine. It's all I need to know, and the knot in my throat grows as I hold back tears. My worst fear has come true.

"No one gives a damn about you."

"The only thing you'll ever be is a fatass slut."

"You're worthless."

"Well, ah- shit," he stumbles over his own words, his face growing redder by the second. I feel like vomiting. "Wait, Ellie, no, I- you know that that's not true- I'd never do that to you!" He reaches out to touch me, and I shrink away from his touch. He looks pained. Conflicted between two versions of himself.

"After, y'know, the whole issue with dad-" he pauses, thinking through what to say next, before continuing, "after all that, mom was, she was scared for you. She asked me to pay attention to you when she couldn't. To be there for you. I wouldn't- no, I'd never do that to you, and you know it!" The sound of tears is on edge in his voice. I shiver.

"I don't know what to think, Tucker. I- I, we should head get heading. Mom'll be concerned if we're out any longer," I glance at him, and he stares at me with a concerned look on his face. Perfectly imperfect.

Tucker doesn't say anything, and instead picks up his bag from the side of the track. He takes water out from the side, and, after having gulped down half of the thing, sticks out his hand to offer it to me.

"Ah, thanks, but I'll be fine until we get home."

Tucker stares down at the ground, then shoots his head up and gives a threatening glare at me. "I swear, Ellie Demis, I ain't letting you leaving this track without having anything to drink, especially after having ran a mile," his voice, although sarcastic, was back to to it's usual humor, and I can't help but grin at the comment. I snatch the water bottle from his hand, and finish off the rest of it.

The two of us sit together on a hill, and I'm wrapped up in a blanket Tucker had thrown into his car earlier today. He had insisted, and I hadn't been feeling like arguing with him.

Tucker bit at his snake bites, his arms supporting him, and he merely was staring at the sunset. It was the first time I realized how much like me he was. His hair, shaved at the sides, was practically an identical shade to my own. There were still faded remnants of black at his tips from when he'd decided to get his piercings.  He wasn't ugly in the slightest. He had defined jaw lines, and, when you did crap he hated, even his gaze could kill you. His hazel eyes had black bags under them, the once vibrancy they had possessed had faded weeks ago. He hadn't been sleeping.

The pit in my stomach grew as I realized what was happening. It was because of me. He was scared. I try to shove the idea out of my head as fast as it came into it. It's my fault, I silently curse myself before turning to him.

"Ok, but-" I glance at how he had his eyes closed now, and I feel the guilt rising back up, "mom will seriously kill us if we're out any longer than already. I don't think either of us want to help wash the Pendersons' cat, too."

Tucker jumps up from his spot, and practically drags me up. I roll my eyes, and chuckle at him.

Our car ride is, for the most part, unbearably silent. I occasionally shoot Tucker a comment or two, only for him to practically ignore me. He's distant, lost in his own thoughts.

"Tucker, the Pendersons' dog is loose again, at least try to drive in a straight line."

"Oh, ah- yeah. Sorry."

"Tucker, we should really go and watch that new movie. Do you think mom'll like it?"

"I dunno. Probably."

Stupid, I think to myself, after him having reflected my attempt for conversation again.

Tucker bounces the old Honda into the parking garage- clearly satisfied that he stayed in the lines when parking. He glances at me, shoots a grin, then jumps out of the car.

The sun had long gone down by the time that we walk all the way out of the parking garage, and Tucker shoots me a guilty look.

The silence had fixed itself on our walk, as Tucker worked out whatever had happened.

"Ellie!" He calls my name out, and I jump into the air out of shock. Tucker gives a toothy grin, and I return it. The streets were long abandoned at this hour, and Tucker and I walk around with an uneasy feeling in the air. "Whatever. I'll deal with however much mom hates us, and I'll put the blame on myself for having not driven you home earlier." He sighed, gazing up at the cloudy, winter sky, "You- you, you shouldn't have to rely on me and mom to be happy, ok? Just please, for the love of god, don't become like me. I don't think you could pull off black hair and lip piercings like the king can," he sneered, giving a bow. I shook my head, lightly punching him in the arm.

We walk into Claystone's Park, and I shiver from the breeze. We'd both walked through this park dozens of times- after all, it was right in between the parking garage and our tiny apartment. It was a second nature to go through it.

I yawned- both exhaustion from our run and life- and found Tucker doing the same. Neither of us wanted to be here.

The park was abandoned- an empty bottle of sprite rolled like tumble weed. It's ominous.

"ELLIE!" A shrill, deep voice shouts at me. I feel him grab me, covering my mouth and eyes. Trying anything to keep me from seeing the horrific sight. He wasn't in time. Tucker never could've been.

Hanging, almost angelically from the tip of a swing set, blood collecting in a puddle under her, neck cracked into a thousand pieces- was mom.

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