Older Brother

Jess found his brother sitting at the end of his bed, his head hung down. He had he hands covering his face. His black hair was clinging to his forehead from what looked like sweat. The glasses he usually wore were placed on the bedside table. One lens was cracked. He was wearing a white shirt stained with dark red splotches and black slacks. Jess couldn’t help but think that the red stains looked ironically similar to Osmond’s bed sheets — a dark shade of maroon. He started to wonder that if there were stains on the bed as well, but couldn’t see them.

Every few seconds, a plopping sound will appear. Plop…plop…plop. Jess’s eyes followed the sound to a small puddle under Osmond’s left foot. It was a puddle of sweat mixed with blood. Jess shivered, swallowing hard. He slowly stepped closer to his brother, and sat down next to him. He could barely make out his profile, from the hair that fell over his face and his hands covering the only skin you could see from under it. “Osmond,” he whispered. The older boy made no indication that he heard him. “Brother, what happened? Why are you…bleeding?” Jess’s eyes made their way back to the puddle. It was small, not a worrisome amount, but any sight of blood was enough to make him uneasy.

Osmond let out a soft moan. The younger brother looked back up. His eyes widened. It was then, that Jess noticed where the blood was dripping from — his face. It seeped through his fingers, some onto his shirt, the rest to the puddle under his feet. “Th-the blood…it’s–” Was all he could let out. “It’s…fr-from your face!”

The older brother moaned again, this time louder. It almost sounded like muffled words. Almost. Jess looked at him confused. What was he trying to say? Osmond slowly started to pry his hands from his face. It looked almost painful for him to do. His hands were shaking. Jess held his breath. The excess bleeding from his brother’s face finally made sense.

The blood was coming from his eyes.

His normally hazel eyes were bloodshot, he could barely pry them open. There were scratched covering all over his lids; peeling, bloody skin. Jess held back a gasp. Who had done this? Why have they done this? “Brother…” Osmond groaned. “I can’t…see.”

“Who did this?” Jess asked worried. The blood continued to drip down the older boy’s face. It looked like he was crying blood.

Osmond shook his head. “No one.”

Jess’s body started to tense. “What do you–?”

“I did, Jessie. I did it.”

The older brother then collapsed. Jess caught him before he fell onto the ground. Osmond’s left foot smeared the blood puddle across the floor. Jess exhaled. He placed his brother back onto the bed. For a moment, he stared at the blood on the floor. Someone had to clean that up. And the only thing he knew at that moment was — it wasn’t going to be him.

He sprinted out of the room, calling for help.

The Cell

The only other person in the cell with him was a small girl. She couldn’t of been any older than ten. Her hair was dirty blonde, cropped short; messy. She had bright blue eyes that stared into nothing. Sometimes when she looked at him, chill prickled his skin. It was like she was looking right into him. It was until later, that he found out she was blind. That comforted him a little, but he still couldn’t help the feeling of uneasiness her stares gave him.

One morning, he found her sitting in the opposite corner of him. Her back towards him. She was facing the wall. And while doing this, she was tracing something with her pointer finger against it. Up and down, over and over; again and again. Adam watched her do this for minutes. Those minutes became hours, then the hours became almost a day. Finally, mid-afternoon, he decided to ask her what exactly she was doing.

“What is it that you’re tracing over there?” He asked. The girl was silent. She continued moving her fingers over the wall. It was like she was writing invisible letters that only she could read.

“I’m writing.” Was all she said. She was very much focused in what she was doing.

“What are you writing?” He continued, hoping she would give him a better answer. He heard her sigh. Her finger stopped moving, and she turned towards his voice. She blinked.

“I’m writing to the monsters,” she said matter-of-factually. “They keep bothering me, so I’m telling them to go away.”

“Oh, really?” Adam replied. This sounded like a child’s game to him. Whatever helps you sleep at night, he thought to himself.

“Yes.” She said. “It’s awfully painful — what I have to say to them.” She slide herself back around and started to write once again.

He tilted his head, “What is painful?”

The girl sighed again, her hand paused. “You ask too many questions, sir. This is common knowledge.”

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I’d just really like to know what you’re up to. You seem really focused on doing it. It was true. He was quite curious. Of course, there wasn’t much other things interesting going on in the cell.

“The things they make me promise are painful,” the girl finally said. “They make me say bad things.” Her voice went down to a whisper.

Adam moved closer, and craned his head over. “Bad things?”

“Yes,” she agreed. Her hand started to move again at a quicker pace.

“Like what?”

“They tell me to say who will die next. Who to sacrifice. Who I want dead.” This sent cold air down Adam’s spin. “It’s a big pain. I don’t like choosing that kind of stuff.”

He swallowed. “Wh-what are you telling them today?”

The girl glanced back, her face grim. The blue eyes were point towards the cell walls, but he felt like they were looking at him. Right at him. “Some guy named Adam,” she said. His breath stopped. “He’s dying next.”

Adam’s eyes widened. No. That wasn’t possible. This girl was lying. She had a big imagination. A imagination that was perhaps a bit messed up. But how did she know your name, his mind whispered back. How did she know his name? Just an odd coincidence? No. That wasn’t possible.

Sweat started to drip down his forehead. If he was going to die, when would it be? Tonight, tomorrow, in a week? Will he just wait for it to come?

He shook his head.

No. He can’t believe this girl. He glanced over at her, she was still writing. “Can you tell when they will die?”

The girl stopped. She turned around with a smile. “I can’t predict the future, silly. I leave that decision to the monsters.” His throat was dry. He took in a deep breath. That wasn’t much help. It actually wasn’t any help at all. Who were these monsters anyways? Just a stupid thing the girl came up with? Maybe. Possibly. He hoped it was.

The girl started to laugh. Adam looked over in confusion. “Oh, how funny,” she cried. She looked up and down the wall. Her eyes scanned over it. She was reading something.

“What is?”

“They say it’s you. Your time is now.”

His heart stopped. He had a hand placed against his chest unconsciously. “What?” He started to breathing heavily. Black started to surround his vision. The girl was the only thing light in the room. The only thing he could see clearly. Her blonde hair…her blue eyes…that smile…

“It’s you–”

Everything stopped. Darkness.