A few hours later, armed with another amazing piece of news, I went back to the basement to find a quiet Brian; his eyes were dark and empty, as if he was finally grasping the severity of his situation. He did not turn towards me when I sat down next to him, not even a muscle twitched. I shoved my phone once again into his face, wanting him to see for himself instead of just relaying the information. Displayed on my phone in a constant loop was the moment his father received the news of his mother's passing. There was a visible yet unquantifiable pause in his entire being when he finally saw the message. It was as if his still body became deathly still, not even a breath escaped from his body.
"I don't know if you know this, but Claire died in my arms. I held my best friend in the whole world, and her last words to me were a confession of love before her soul left her body. I never even felt her go cold; she just lay here limp while I almost killed myself and a few others on the road trying to get her help. Of course, there was no help to be given, but I didn't know at the time. When the doctor told me the devastating news, I felt almost nothing. It was as if in that moment my pain was too big for even my brain to comprehend, so I felt nothing." I stood up, walking to the opposite end of the room, wishing there was a window with an ocean view.
"It was worse when her father came to see her, but it was only to identify her body. He did not say anything to me afterwards, and I didn't even get to see her funeral. I also tried going to her grave, and each time I felt such an overwhelming guilt; in all cases, I had to be dragged out of the cemetery. The last time I couldn't make it past the gate, because I had taken my revenge on those who wanted to break me, but her murderer was still out and about living life." I came back to the bed armed with the same knife I had used, his blood still clinging to the blade.
I began slicing once again at his skin, this time there was no scream, even though I went deeper, his eyes remained blank, his face frozen in time as if his essence had long seeped out through the cuts I had first made, leaving behind an unfeeling shell. His lack of reaction did not discourage me because I noticed a cloudiness in his eyes that had not been there when I first arrived. In fact, from experience, I knew how welcome the pain I was inflicting on him was.
"After a month of emotional numbness, the worst thing happened: I began feeling again with the guidance of a therapist and some pills. I almost went insane with grief, so they gave me more pills to help regulate the emotions that they forced me to feel. It was part of the healing process, or so I was told. It worked until the day it didn't, thanks to you and my father pushing me over the edge that I already had a complicated love-hate relationship with. I can't forgive you when you did something so resolute that there is no coming back. Now that your mother is in the same position as Claire, do you think you still want to marry me, or do you still think not wanting to even look in your direction was a mistake? You are a better person than I if you still do."
His lack of reaction did not stop me from making close to thirty cuts on his other arm, giving him matching wounds. Their markings would not matter since I had planned to have him cremated, so no one would ever find his body to mourn. He would simply vanish from the face of the earth during a trying time for his family. His name would be cursed out for not attending his mother's and hopefully his father's funeral. That family fancied itself better than everyone else. They were all rotten to the core, and they all deserved to die, terrified and alone. I left the quiet Brian bleeding and stewing in his pain, and I felt a weight lifted off my shoulder.
With each reckoning I meted out against my aggressors, a small chip of the boulder shouldered in the form of trauma fell off. This time it felt as if the weight had been halved. It was as if my whole life I had gone about partially blind, and for the first time, my vision was clearing. It was no longer blurry colors but detailed life.
I found Sunshine in the kitchen, keeping a wary eye on our new addition. I did not know where she had gotten the mangy rat from, but it looked like it had rabies, the plague, and any other affliction that could affect their species. Mercy had refused to even stay in the same room as the critter and was lounging at the beach, but the knowledge of the creature's existence close by still had her on edge, judging by the way she kept throwing glances at the house. Her fear was, of course, irrational, but neither one of us was in the business of judging people for their weakness, so we gave her the space she needed.
"Can it do the job?" assigned to Sunshine, skeptical of the creature's abilities to carry out my gory revenge for me? To be honest, I was more excited than I should have been given the extent of depravity I was willing to go to for my revenge.
It tried chewing through a bone, which I had to take away. He doesn't even need encouragement; he will start feasting unprompted. She handed me a bare bone covered in small indents made by tiny teeth. I had erred once again in doubting sunshine's capability.
With his support system in shambles, I no longer had any reservations about killing Brian. His continued presence in my home was now bordering on being as tolerable as a screaming banshee, relentless in its agitation. I wanted to finish this chapter of my life, but I needed him to feel every second of his demise. By the end of it, I want him screaming for me to end his life, a request I would ignore, laughing. Despite wanting to hurt him as much as I could, I was having a creative block, so I turned to tried and trusted forms of torture, and the rat one intrigued me the most. If he managed to go through the ordeal silently, then and only then would I respect him. Not enough to end him quickly, but the admiration would be there. c