Alice: Bloodbath

Cousin Donald IV

Alice's piercing screams got the attention of Donald, her black haired cousin. He gripped onto the doorknob leading to her bedroom, but it wouldn't open. With much percistense he insisted on knocking on the door numerous times, alerting his mother that Alice must have been onto something again.
"Goddamn that child!", said aunt Rose-Mary as she fiercefully stabbed the edge of kitchen knife she was sharpening onto the kitchen counter. While noticing that her white apron started having black stains on it, she started screaming even more. She felt her face melting off from all that black goo coming out of her eyes and nostrils running down to her neck and chest. Rose-Mary's footsteps could be heard approaching walking up the set of stairs to the second floor. Donald took a step back, his eyes scanning the hallway as his mother was getting close to him. His legs felt shaky and his breathing was unstable. Instead of waiting for Alice to open the door and let him in, he ran back to his room before even his mother made her last step onto the hallway.

10 years ago, Donald was brought into the world. This cruel, uncivilised world. Everything was moving smoothly, just as Uncle James had all planned out. He finally had a heir to continue on with his bloodline, as if he was some kind of royalty. Emily was no longer a part of his life, or even memory, fortunately for him. No more unsettling nagging was flooding the household atmosphere. He finally achieved his highest of dreams.
Though, once Donald reached the age of three and a half, brain malfuctions could be visible. He wasn't able to say a proper word, just as kids his age were capable of doing, at least most of them. Couldn't even nearly say the words ma-ma or da-da. He was mumbling nonsense, gibberish words which would drive Uncle James mad. At times, he would blame his wife for birthing such a mistake into this world. After all, this was not some kind of experiment where mistakes and failures were not acceptable. This is all about a human being living with a beating heart and the ability to think, put his thoughts in action and breathe. But, it seems that such thing was prohibited in the Rainmann household.
Aunt Rose-Mary would cry herself to sleep at nights as her husband would sleep with his back facing her restless body at the very end of their bed. He was a heavy sleeper, he would have never been able to hear his wife's sobbing.
Just as Donald finally was 5 years old, he was diagnosed with autism. His father was ever so furious and that's the exact reason he started helplessly drinking until at times he would beat his own son to death out of his concious mind.
Five years later, Alice joined the household after the tragic burst of fire into her family's house, causing the death of both her parents. With no other family member living in town, she ended up moving in with them. She never had a clue why her aunt was so violent towards her, but even her own son. Protective issues? Makes no sense, if you ask me. Alice would wonder from time to time, trying to solve the mystery of her aunt's despicable behaviour. Maybe she wanted Alice to become the perfect child for her husband, since Donald was a failed outcome. But violence still makes no sense to her curious mind. 

Once Aunt Rose-Mary was standing right in front of Alice's door, Alice's screams fainted. Donald was peeking through the keyhole, frightened. The rattling of the doorknob moving violently in all directions shook Alice back to reality.
"Alice, open this damn door immediately!", yelled Rose-Mary. Alice looked back to her fist where the thorn used to be and there was nothing. No visible wounds, no blood, no black goo. As if nothing ever happened. She took a deep breath and fixed her apron, eyes focusing on the doorknob which was about to break. She took a few steps and--
"What?!", exclaimed Alice with a frown on her face.
"What was all that screaming about?!", replied Aunt.
"U-uhm..", Alice couldn't find the right words to form a perfectly shaped excuse, her eyes wandering around her room. A hole on the ceiling right above her bedhead caught her attention and with her index finger she pointed at it saying,"..a m-mouse landed on me while I was resting and it took me by surprise".
"Nonesense! Is this another one of your so believed excuses, young lady?"
As Alice's eyes were running back to her Aunt's orbs, having an uncomfortable moment of silence, she noticed the bottle of empty whiskey underneath her broken bed.
"It reeks of alcohol in here", said Rose-Mary. She was sniffing around the room like a hound dog looking for a prey.
"It's noth--"
"Mawm!", Donald was heard mumbling with all his will and power. His mother grunted and rolled her eyes in frustration, probably wondering what was going on this time.
"This is not over, miss", warned Rose-Mary and shut the door behind her close. Alice rested her back onto the door and slid all the way down to the floor. Shaky sighs escaped her chapped and pale lips. Shivers going down her spine. Cold sweat broke onto her forehead sticking her dirty hair onto her cheeks, drops of it rolling all the way down to her jawline.

"About time you pay us a visit.. Alice.."