Savage Evil

III.

   I've never been able to connect with other people, unlike my brother. He always had friends, people he could go out with and spend their time together, as some sort of family. Every time he was out, I was inside the house taking care of our mother, that after our father's death, she started griefing him. But she never was the type of going to a social group, or to a psychiatrist, neither going to the church for pastoral help because of her theism that rose up to be even bigger than the world's real problems, like global warming or worldwide accidents. In her eyes, there was only one deity, and that was the Devil himself. Every single world's problems would be because of The God of Death. Global warming? -Because of his power rises and hell gets hotter-. People suiciding or killing others? - His power overwhelms the weak-. In the end, my only question is... Why wasn't she a caress or a proud mother? The devil doesn't want us to be grateful for what we have? For all the times when I started to be a thief just to bring a small piece of bread on the table, and not only that, not even getting a bite from it! Obviously, there had to be the older brother who deserved to eat it, there had to be her because the devil made her eat before the smallest one, the cadet who didn't deserve even a bite.

After a small amount of time, I got sick of this and started being a biblioklept. I started stealing books, read them and then sell them to my older brother after he had great success with his first book, which sold for almost two hundred thousand dollars. It wasn't an incredible amount, just tens of dollars, not even reaching his greatness in the domain of richness, but at least I could survive for a week until stealing new ones. Then, when everything started going great and I actually started to have more money than needed, the most powerful thing, that scared and changed me my whole life, was the sickness our mother got. It's not a thing that you would want for your mother to have, not even in the worst moments of disapproval or fights, also called the most incurable thing that you can hate, the only disease that takes everyone you love, cancer. Not even the good type of cancer, that can be used with meds to slowly drift away from the pain, pancreatic cancer.  Her diagnosis, and her Doctor, Jake himself, gave her a two-point two percent chance of survival, for a period of a year. He gave her at least a month before she would leave us to go to the, what she believed to be "heaven". She has survived two more weeks after her verdict, which were the longest, yet the most awful ones. I've never believed that someone can change so much, after finding out that they will die soon. Who would've thought that our father has taught her the arts of torture? My brother was fortunate that he just endured four days of her torture, which were the easiest ones anyway because it was more of a moral disaster and slow slaps. After he left, everything took a bad turn.