Thrill was coursing through the boys veins. Every thought in his mind whirred around like homicidal tornado, smashing into his skull. They would all resolve to one single thing. And that thing was terrible, and it was wrong. The boy beamed, and looked down the stairs through a pair of groggy eyes. Everything was a mess of blurry lines, merging and crisscrossing in front of him, but it didn’t matter.
The healthy chatter of voices filled his ears, and the ting of ice in a glassed warbled around the room. But nothing could drown out the rush of anticipation and the scent of faded love. His parents were dinning, and laughing and enjoy every sweet moment of life. They loved each other and nothing got in there way, not even their young son. The mistreated him from the beginning, shielding him from the outside world. They kept him from the neighbors, and the relatives, and never let him leave the house. They had him home schooled via the television and kept him quiet, until now. There was nothing that could stop his own devilish endeavor.
He thought they loved him, but all their kisses, hugs and happy cries had been false. Those were a sticky cover up to their hate for the offspring. It seemed that nothing mattered more to them then lavish parties and time spent together. Their son was a huge mistake and the only way to deal with such a mistake is to push it away, to hide it. He was done hiding.
The boy emerged from the darkness of the living room and into the view of his putrid parents. He yawned innocently and waltzed up to them. His movements were thick and intoxicated. His parents had found a wonderful way to hide him. They would serve him alcohol every night at dinner time, and by the time their guest started to arrive he was out cold in his room, like he never existed. The champagne would put him to sleep like a sick lullaby. Tonight was different, it hadn’t worked. He was wide awake, wired by the booze and focused on his perverse thoughts.
His mother was the first to see him, her pupils shrank to pin heads and she shot out of her chair as if she was just electrocuted. She scampered over and wrapped her arms around his waist. He struggled and tried to break free.
“Oh! Sebastian what are you doing up?” She cooed, squeezing the fifteen year old in her lanky arms. “It’s past your bed time, sweetie.” Sebastian frowned as she tired to lead him up stairs. Suddenly he removed the knife that was concealed in his sleeve. This was it.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” His fathered bellowed, launching from his large body from his own seat and tackling Sebastian to the floor with one leap. Sebastian jumped in shock but his fathers weight paralyzed Sebastian. He felt his breath being forced out of his lungs. “Give me that!” Mr. Pein shrieked, grabbing at the knife. Sebastian made a weak noise and recoiled his arm. He swung it up and a glint of light caught the steal as his arm arched. The last thing Sebastian heard before the blade stabbed into his father’s meaty back was a high pitched screech that cut through the air. It echoed in his head.
Mr. Pein hacked specks of blood onto Sebastian’s face. With an angry shove, his father rolled off and lay flat on the floor. A slow puddle of dark crimson filled out around him. Sebastian winced, walking through the blood in pursuit of his mother. A morose pleasure filled Sebastian’s chest when he walked away from his father’s body. And an even greater feeling shot through him, when Sebastian’s father clutched his ankle with a weak attempt to bring him down. Sebastian whirred around and thrust the knife in Mr. Peins chest. His father cried out with pain, the noise was wet and gurgled as blood oozed down his chin. The cry was cut short when Sebastian shoved his foot into the man’s face. The hilt of his weapon stuck out of the dead mans chest and Sebastian bent down to remove it.
Sticky blood covered his feet and now his hands, as he wiggled the blade out of his loving daddy’s flesh. The red liquid had a pleasant feeling on his skin, and Sebastian didn’t mind the mess. He turned around, maintained the blade and hurried off to catch his mother.” I wonder why they don’t love me,” he thought,” I love them more then I should. There is so much that I don’t understand. I’m not letting them stop me anymore.”
“Oh mummy!” He called down the hall. He could hear her sobs and followed them into the dark. “We should turn a light on.” He said out loud, feeling his way along the wall. The alcohol fed his movements like gas in a car. He chugged along robotically, swinging the knife all too cheerfully. He came upon her bedroom down, and pushed the door open slowly. His judgment was highly impaired and the darkness didn’t help. His mother sobs were thick and they moaned out to him. Sadly for her, Sebastian found the light switch.
She was curled in a small ball, clutching the phone in one hand and a broke bottle in the other. Tears streamed down her face, and her body shook violently. Sebastian could help but feel love for the crumpled figure in the corner. It was his sweet mother. She held his baby body, and kissed his fevered forehead. She must love him a little. He stopped in his tracks looking at her with pity in his eyes. The women held up the bottle in a trembling hand.
“I KNEW Y-YOU WERE A-A MISTAKE!” She croaked out bitterly. Sebastian didn’t move. “I C-CALLED THE POLICE, YOU BRAT! YOU S-SICK EFFING BRAT” She swung up and bumbled him to the floor. He grimaced, and felt annoyed to be in this position again. She stabbed blindly at him with the bottle, the sharp edges sunk into his hand and his chest, but they barely fastened in. The liquor numbed his body, and he ignored the blood.
“She doesn’t love me.” He thought, painfully. Sebastian reached from his knife, it had fell out of his hand and now sat inches away from his grasp. His mother caught his gaze; she blanched at sight his murderous grin. With a scream she managed to plummet the bottle into his chest, and it stuck. He coughed and could feel the unbelievable pain in his chest. But he felt that it wasn’t because of his wound, and as his mother tired again, he knew it was because of the love he never got. It hurt, and he knew he couldn’t do it anymore. He collapsed inside, and his body shut down.
But his mission wasn’t over; unconsciously he clawed at the knife, finally getting it in his clammy hand. His raised his arm in the air, wielding the blade like a master swordsman. His mother was unprepared and when the edge sank into her side. She staggered down and crushed the bottle further into Sebastian. He wrenched the knife from her side and jammed it in again, and again. Each time with more muted anger. The shard blade ripped at the fabric of her beautiful floral shirt, creating large bloody slits. There was nothing he could do anymore, his body was giving in and blood poured out all over. His mother’s vital fluid dripped into his cloths, and his own trickled out of the puncture wounds. She opened her lifeless blue eyes and uttered her last living words.
“Mistake” And blood washed into her mouth and mummy dearest keeled over onto Sebastian, and subsequently she died. So did Sebastian, lying in the blood of his family, he died inside and fell out of himself and the world. He closed up, and slipped into a long sleep. He might as well have been dead.
