"You're really doing this now, Ashley…"
The woman stared coldly at the man with her hands behind her back, impatient, “Your soup’s getting cold, Alvin.”
The little boy peeked through the slightly opened door of the dimly lit room. A moment so silent, slow, yet so short. No breath could be heard for a long minute. The boy waited with a heavy heart. He stared with wide eyes as the feeble man on the bed in the room suddenly had a look the boy had never witnessed in him before. The boy held his breath as if afraid to hear what was coming next from his beloved uncle, who looked so cold at the mother.
"I… wish you a pitiful death."
His little legs froze in place at the cold words of his uncle. Looking in fear, his ever-kind uncle slowly took the spoon and had a gulp of the soup, satisfying the mother, who let out a breath of relief before turning and silently walking to the door. ‘She poisoned uncle Alvin… she killed him…’
Blurry memories, and soon… he found himself getting dragged by his so-called mother away from his sleeping brother… his brother… his innocent big brother who had loved others so strongly…
"Well, blame your ignorant father for this! Quit looking at me like that!"
He still glared at her all the way to the orphanage. He still struggled and perhaps let out insults unbefitting coming from a child.
"Don't you think your brother's the biggest fool here? Who could ignore all the signs and still believe such a filthy mother? Not to mention his promise to you…”
It hurt… it hurt to hear the truth from someone who had never met his beloved brother… it hurt because he never wanted to blame his brother…
"You've seen everything, heard everything behind the door, haven't you?!"
The rushing moments hit the brakes momentarily at the wicked eyes of the hateful woman he refuses to call her ‘mother’…
"Then why didn't YOU do something to save your beloved uncle, HUH?!"
The accusing eyes got so close to his with a loud, hissing whisper.
“WHY?”
Be-beep— Be-beep— Be-beep…
One eye cracked open, blinking twice to adjust to the morning light. The guy with an eyepatch slowly grabbed his phone and turned off the alarm. He sighed, forcing his heavy body to rise from the comfy bed. Blue eye stared silently at the cold floor.
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The Red Flower
Chapter. 21
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Alvis threw his tired body on his bed, causing him to bounce lightly before going still. The long sigh refused to be let out for some reason; there was a lump in his throat. Laying silently in the darkroom, the small crack in the curtains allowed a bit of sunlight into the room. Draping one arm over his eyes, the other hand gripping a paper.
After several long minutes, the hand started shaking ever so slightly. Then burning tears began falling down the man's cheeks.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
He couldn't let out any sound, just silently crying his heart out in his small room. He slightly tightened his hold on the paper, the letter.
—I'm taking this paper in my hands to write down a letter.
It was so dark. They locked me in that windowless room “to force 'HIM' out”, was what they said.
They offered me food, but it smelled terrible. It was so sickening… eventually, I couldn't smell anything anymore.
I refused to eat…
Days or even weeks passed… I didn't even notice myself peeing in my pants, and I couldn't smell or feel a thing.
But in the end, I felt ravenous… they kept bringing food one after another, one meal a day. Still, I never got to taste any of them, so I kept them by the door and never even looked at the food as it was appropriately covered along with an elegant platter.
I reached a point where I couldn't take it anymore. I just needed food.
So I crawled to the plates, took the meal from the day before, and took a bite without a second thought.
The first few bites, I gulped without much thought. I wasn't in my right state of mind to feel anything but hunger… but when I came to my senses…
Chew… chew… and chew…
Squelch… squelch… and squelch… then…
Metallic taste… raw meat… almost… rotten…
I felt it… I tasted it…
The fresh meat of a human…
It was someone's hand, served to me on a platter…
The other meals were the same...
I tried to scream, but nothing came out… I couldn't even throw up.
I heard voices… voices… voices…… whispers, laughter, hisses…
Some were angry at me, and some pitied me… some were enjoying my state.
I hated you, I hated you… I hated my mother… I hated my father… I hated…
Day by day, their voices became a calming white noise to me.
I saw him in the dark, a scribbled guy who looked like me, yet older.
He told me I have to die… to live.
Funny? It was. He also laughed at his own words.
He said… they play their game, and we play ours.
That was how I found myself moving to the door, a rotten arm in my own small hand.
I remember scratching the door… scratch… scratch…
That was the first sound I had let out since the first day in that room.
So naturally, the guard carefully opened the door…
And I, a small child, managed to deceive him… jumped at him, stuffed the rotten hand in his mouth, and forced him to taste it himself.
My first attempt to kill someone.
I was happy…
Excited…
I laughed… I laughed… it felt good… torturing someone felt good.
Becoming a monster was easy… TEMPTING.
Then a girl showed up out of nowhere… she cautiously cradled me in her arms and kept singing serenely in my ear…
That was… the first time I’d ever found comfort in someone.
She said she'd always be by my side… and slowly… I fell asleep…
I wonder if I really woke up ever since then…
Just yesterday… it felt like I was in a deep sleep for years…
I felt cold, numb… I wondered if it was the absence of food…
I'm aware that normal people would never be able to go for one year without food at all. I’m aware…
I keep telling myself, "someone's flesh still is, to this day… inside me."
One look at myself in the mirror… made me think it was okay. This feels okay… I'm okay.
Because… I had no intention of fixing myself…
Because I felt dead…
"I have to die in order to live."
I sank deeper, deeper into my sleep…
Then I woke up…
Mother wanted… me to live. My mother who was always afraid of me and wanted me away…
She wanted me to go back to you…
I believe… that wasn't a dream… it was my real mother telling me what she truly wanted…
My only regret… is that I… I allowed them to dress me in a monster costume however they wanted.
I can't find my voice to say a word, I was never one to speak out, but my father once told me to draw down anything whenever I find it hard to express myself…
This is frightening, I'm scared, but I trust you… I chose to trust this letter to you.
You tried so hard to fix me and lend me your hand, and now I can say I really appreciate it… I appreciate you.
The least I could do… is open up to you.
But, uncle? There is no point in finding out who to blame…
There is no use in pointing fingers.
We all… became sinners at some point.
In the end, no one made a move.
We were pawns up till now.
Alvis had been just a man who wanted to become a doctor to help people unconditionally…
Elois had been just a kid who wanted to love his family so dearly…
Owin had been just a kid who wanted to protect his beloved family…
So please… stick together.
There is no use and time to think of what-ifs anymore…
And as for me… your ‘nephew’?
I'll do my best…
I'll move on.
So, for once, let it all out and look ahead.
You can do as you please with this letter…
—Davante Fixsen.
Icy-blue eyes fluttered open to meet the warm, welcoming light of a new day. He felt so well-rested for the first time in his whole life.
He blinked blearily at the person sitting comfortably beside him on the bed. The person lifted his head from looking at his phone to smiling at Davante. "Oh, good morning. Slept well?"
“Ah, yes…” Davante blinked, hesitated for a second, and then offered a warm smile to Ellmer, who widened his eyes, taken aback by the smile.
"Good morning… b-brother?"
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The End of CH. 21