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“Evelyn, come on,” Mel whispered, but she refused to move. With a sigh, Mel pulled out a needle and stuck it in her neck. I went to help, but Mel shook her head before she wrapped my mother’s arm over her shoulder and moved towards the door.
“I don’t understand. What’s wrong with her? What’s going on? I haven’t seen anyone in days. Not that I want to see anyone in this stupid fucking family. No one has anyone given me anything to eat—”
Something inside of me snapped. My hands were around her neck before my mind even made a conscious decision to move. I gripped her neck as tightly as I could.
“My father is dead and you’re upset because someone didn’t give you snack?” I asked her, feeling surprisingly calm as she struggled against me. Her nails scratched my arms as tears flooded her bloodshot eyes. Instead of the absolute dread I envisioned feeling when this day came, an unnatural calm took over my entire being. I felt nothing but an urge to rid the earth of this disgusting virus I’d blindly inflicted upon my family.
“Neal…this…not…like…you…” she choked out.
“You don’t know me,” I said, surprising myself once again with how unaffected I felt. Pushing as hard as I could onto her neck, I felt something snap, not within me as I was used to when dealing her, but I literally felt and heard the harsh and sickening snap as her windpipe finally collapsed under the pressure of my grip and she stopped fighting. Her body went limp and I stared into her cold, empty eyes. There was hardly a difference now than there was last week.
That was it.
She was gone.
Just like that, nothing fancy, not by Liam’s or Mel’s hands, but by my own. And I didn’t regret it. I felt absolutely no remorse as I looked at her already cooling carcass.
“I’ll handle this, Neal, now go to your mother,” Mel said from behind me. “She’ll awaken at any moment, and right now she needs one of her sons.”
I gave Olivia one more look before getting up.
Mel grabbed my arm before I could leave the room. “We will have our revenge, I swear it, Neal.”
I’m wasn’t sure how to reply as my heart tried to escape by way of my throat once more. Heading to my parents’ room, I walked up the stairs and it was as if someone was physically trying to pull me back. Perhaps it was Olivia’s demented soul. Or maybe I was just damned.
Walking into the room, I stared at my mother as she gripped onto what I guessed was my father’s pillow. It seemed as though she was trying soak up whatever essence he’d left behind. Taking a seat at the side of the bed, I didn’t even try to stop the flow tears.
What happens now?
TWENTY-SEVEN
“I will not say, do not weep, for not all tears are an evil.”
—J.R.R. Tolkien
LIAM
PAST
He punched me so hard that I spun around once before hitting the ground. Dazed, I lay there for a moment before I manage to get up and pull off my boxing helmet.
“You cheated!”
“Nope, you just suck,” my father said with a laugh, as he threw me a water bottle.
I pulled off my gloves as fast as I could, desperate for something to quench my thirst. “My teacher said not use the word, ‘suck,’ because she knows I’m more educated than that.”
“She said you’re more educated, not me, kid.” He rolled his eyes before pouring his own bottled water over his head. Standing up, I followed his lead and poured the ice cold liquid onto my body. I shivered as the water dripped from my face and onto the boxing ring canvas.
“Well, you're more educated than I am,” I replied, as I shook the water from my hair. “At least you should be, right? You’re old.”
He frowned at me before he threw a glove at my head. Ducking out of the way, I grinned.
“Rule twenty: Your father is never old and it would be wise not to claim that he is. Also, remember, Rule twenty-three; just because one is old does not make them wise.”
“You can’t make up rules as you go!” I yelled at him. “You said they were given to you by your father and his father before him. You said it was a tradition.”
“Liam, you're thirteen, don’t hold me to everything I say, it’s annoying. You’re supposed to forget that stuff,” he replied as he helped me out of the ring.
“Why would I forget it? You get annoyed when you have to repeat things.” I frowned.
He sighed as he ruffled my hair. “You’re too goddamn serious, Liam. Life is short; rebel a little. You’re healthy, so enjoy life. Read a comic, binge eat, it’s okay every once in a while,” he told me as he pushed the button for the elevator.
“Grandpa says—”
“Grandpa is a hard ass, and no one can make him happy. Be who you are. I heard there’s some dance at school coming up? Who are you taking?”
“No one.” I frowned, as I leaned against the elevator wall.
“No one?”
“Yes, because I’m not going. I still hate school. I’m only going for you.”
“Why, thank you,” he snickered. “And you’re going to the dance.”
“Why?” I groaned and smacked my forehead. “I hate them.”
“Because it makes you uncomfortable and you need to get used to doing things that make you uncomfortable.”
I muttered an oath under my breath and he looked to me, daring me to defy him.
“Fine, I’ll go. But I’m going to be miserable.”
“You can thank me later.”
PRESENT
“Liam, you need to eat something,” Mel whispered to me after we boarded the jet. I couldn’t really remember the events that had led to me being here. I looked around the cabin, trying to piece together how long I’d been out of it, when I noticed some sort of soup and slices of bread in front of me.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Fine. Then can you feed Ethan while I check on your mother?” she asked as she held both the bottle and Ethan in her arms.
I didn’t want to deal with this right now.
“Mel, no I can’t—”
She placed him into my arms and gave me the bottle despite my protests. Ethan looked up to me, waiting, and all I could do was stare into his green eyes…ones that reflected my own, and I froze.
“Dada,” he called to me and I took a deep breath before I adjusted him for his meal.
He sucked happily and I watched him. He looked peaceful, happy. Relaxing into my chair, I held him close to my heart. Taking the bread up with my free hand, I ate along with him. Moment later, Mel came back from the jet’s private room and quietly sat in front of me.
“How is she?” I asked her, as I took another bite of bread. We hadn’t really spoken, and because I was a coward, I dreaded having to face her.
“Sleeping.”
With a nod, I looked out the window at the sea of clouds. Part of me wanted to believe that he was taking this flight with us, relaxing on one of the wings…but to do that, it meant that I would’ve had to accept the fact that he was gone and that was something that I refused to do.
PAST
I sat in the back of the car with my dad as we drove through the dark streets of Chicago. I looked to him and he seemed calm as he finished up his crossword puzzle. Every edge of his suit was crisp and sharp. His watch glinted in the mediocre light, and his dark hair was slicked back.
