Graveborn

Chapter Eleven

The past

Clayton

It’s the only way I find peace in my mind to sleep.

“I didn’t take the fucking cocaine, you asshole!”

Slap.

“Don’t touch me!”

Slap.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want, when you’re such a greedy slut.”

Thud.

“I saw the wads of cash you have hidden under the mattress, now you’re taking the tips of the strip club for yourself?!”

“It’s none of your fucking business!”

I sigh long, until all the air empties in my lungs. I have searched for any files about my parents family, any information that they were abused, any reason for their misery.

Anything.

None.

My lips perk up as the sound of slapping intensifies, leaning my head back on the door. Maybe they will kill each other and spare me the headache. The world framed bad people always have a reason that changed their hearts, that humans weren’t created evil by nature.

Wrong.

Humans are created with basic instincts, they’re made to survive in their circumstances.

While we develop, the need for violence should be close to none.

There is no urge to kill each other for the deer, marking their territories.

But humans love to complicate their lives, creating competition out of anything.

Who builds the tallest tower?

Who owns the largest land?

Whenever we gain more power, we abuse it.

Our life gets harsher, when we see all the darkness around us, we go back to our baser instincts and turn into animals.

Evil people are created to be that way, without a reason, the world just creates an illusion to justify them.

They hurt others because they simply enjoy it. No empathy or mercy.

Mercy in our world means weakness.

Once I have gained all the power I need, I will let this world perish underneath my feet and build a beautiful house for Elsie, in a place far away from all the filth.

I will keep her safe and sound in our home.

I’m taking advantage of all the ways I can apply for an onboard college.

My excuse of a high school won’t take me anywhere rather than prison.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sudden silence. The screaming, the loud thuds and slaps. All gone.

I press my ears to the door, trying to figure out what happened. I can’t hear anything but subtle thrashing. I reach slowly and open the attic door, popping my head out, the lights downstairs are on.

I climb down the wooden ladder, stepping carefully as the floor creaks when I reach down. An eerie feeling filling my guts, but I can’t help the hint of hope that they vanished into thin air.

I step forward, my heart beating rapidly in my chest as I press my hand onto the stairs unsteady railing.

A thud sounds on the ground rapidly as I step downstairs.

My eyes widen when I see the scene unfolding in front of me.

My father is straddling my mother’s frail body, his thighs on either side of her hips with his hands wrapped around her throat.

The veins on his hands almost erupt from his tight grip as he presses on her windpipe.

His lips are curled up in a snarl, teeth grinding and foaming as she looks up at him in shock.

Her nails scratching over his arms and hands, slapping, pushing up his chin as her mouth hangs open in a silent protest.

He is choking her to death.

My heart stops as I stare at them, their eyes are hollow of life yet filled with anger towards their destiny.

He raises her head then slam her back down to the floor, I can hear her skull cracking.

He repeats it again and again. His eyes dissociated with anger and hatred.

My body refuses to move, confused on what I should do.

Let her die in his hands and have one less burden to carry?

Sit on the stairs and watch life disappear from her eyes till she is still?

Let him kill her and carry the guilt as he numbs it with drugs?

Options.

Options.

She gasps as her thrashing intensifies, legs raise as she kicks into the air and he grunts pressing further onto her life source.

If she is dead, my father would find no one else but me to torment further and take out his anger on.

But also, I want her to pay for every single time she made me feel guilty for my existence.

She needs to bear the consequences of their actions.

Her eyelids flutter close as her hands slowly fall off his face that she painted with scratches.

I make up my mind, rushing to a nearby table as I hold the filled ash glass tray and stand before him. “Let her go.” My voice firm as his gaze turned to me. “Go back to your room, boy.”

I step forward, my hand tightening until my knuckles turn white with how he snarls the word ‘boy’ as if I’m a piece of shit on the ground.

My height has given me confidence over the years, puberty has been working in my favor when I walk past the guys at school and I’m taller than most of them.

Mom looks at me with despair as for the first time she gazes at me as if I mean anything to her.

“P-please.”

Her plea triggers my mind, seeing myself lying on the muddy ground, looking up at the officer as he kicks me in the stomach.

“Can you please help me find my glasses?”

Another vision unfolds in my mind, I lay on the ground taking punch after punch from my father as my mother sits on the couch smoking her cigarette not sparing us a glance.

“Please, no”

Begging.

And fucking begging.

And no one spared me a break.

“Let. Her. Go.” I grit as anger wrenches my vision, not for her safety. But for my misery.

He scoffs, looking at me up and down, sparing me no mind as he turns his eyes away from me and keeps choking her. He doesn’t see me as a threat, knowing he controls my mind and body. I’m nothing but a tool for him to use as he pleases.

A weak pathetic little boy.

I’m sick of everyone looking at me like I’m lesser than them.

I deserve respect and I will be respected.

My hand flew with no hesitation, smashing the ash tray onto the side of his head.

He cries out in pain as the glass shatters across the floor.

My mother gasps in air as she hunches to the side, holding her neck.

My chest heaves as I look at my dad’s unconscious body and exhale, clearly out of my mind.

“Took you long enough.”

I don’t respond to her unsurprising ungratefulness.

I didn’t do this for her. I did it for me.

The sound of glass shattering onto his head gave me pleasure I never imagined.

Watching the blood drip onto his temple as he breathes out in pain is the most ethereal piece of music to my ear.

I wish I would have hit him multiple times until I hear the skull breaking into million pieces as blood drips from his ears, nose and mouth.

I grab a small napkin and lean over him as I swipe it over his temple harshly. He whines as his eyebrows furrow and I collect his blood, letting it soak through the cloth, painting it a shade of deep pink that Elsie would love.

I stuff the cloth into my pocket and head upstairs, stepping over the blood spilled on the floor, wetting my bare feet.

Once I reach my attic, I hold up the napkin onto the ceiling over my bed, nailing its every edge to it. I lay onto my mattress and stare up at the blood soaked cloth. My lips turn up, almost reaching my eye as pride fills me.

Rain soaks over the streets as the night falls, every family hiding in their homes as the monsters roam the roads.

Walking across the woods barefoot, in the distance I can see Elsie’s home standing tall in the land.

I brush back my brown wet strands of hair off my forehead as I head towards the back door.

Her father bought close to a hundred new locks and I have picked every single one.

Closing the door behind me as I dry myself off with her mother’s coat that’s hanging to the side.

I take the steps, skipping one each time.

Elsie is asleep peacefully, the bed dips as I lay beside her onto my side. My fingers reach into her hair, smoothing it out gently. Lavender scent tickles my nostrils as I lean my head down and sniff her hair. I hope someday I could imprint the intoxicating scent on my skin.

“Clay, it’s too rainy outside and I’m already warm in the blanket. I’m not sneaking out.” She stirs, mumbling into the pillow as she raises the blanket up further, covering her ears.

I smirk as I lean closer, pressing my lips to her ears. “Come on, mon ange, I have discovered a place you would absolutely love.”

She groans as her hair falls over her face as a curtain. I move it aside in the middle and find her opening one eye, staring at me smiling.

“Have I ever disappointed you?” I challenge

She shakes her head “but it’s raining”

“Yes, exactly, it’s perfect.”

She rolls her eyes and sits up and I sit in front of her, resting one hand beside her thigh. She yawns and rubs her eyes.

“You’re insane.”

“I would rather say creative.”

She giggles as she pushes my face away. Getting out of her bed as she grabs a hoodie and passes her head through as I watch her.

“It’s it far from here? Mom and dad want me to help redecorating the living room and I don’t want to fall asleep.”

“I will get you back home before you know it. Trust me.”

Once she is ready, I take her hand and sneak out easily. A habit we have mastered over the years. We both pull up our hoods and scruffy into the night in a fit of hushed giggles.

Her hunches over trying to catch her breath “Clay, we have been running for half an hour. If this place is not worth it.” She gulps “I will kill you.”

“Your faith in me is astonishing.”

She crosses her legs over her chest as I walk around figuring out how we can pass the moth filled iron gates. “I’m not kidding.”

I roll my eyes with my back facing her as I dust off some mud on a black sign.

No trespassing.

Perfect.

I reach a hand towards her “Mon ange, you can’t even kill a spider. Now, come here and let me help you climb up the fence.”

She stomps over and presses her hands on my shoulder tightly, but I have been working out lately in my attic, my shoulders broadened slightly even if I’m still skinny for the most part. She puts one foot on my hands.

“Just so you know, that was a baby widow spider.” Before I can respond to her. My jaw tightens as she presses heavily on me and throws her torso onto the edge of the fence.

“Do not—”

I groan as she puts her leg onto my face to climb higher— Shushing me.

I spit out the dirt as she jumps to the other side with an innocent smile.

I shake my head, chuckling as I jump, grabbing the fence as I pull myself up.

My feet pushing off an iron bar and I jump down beside her, balancing myself.

My glasses hit the ground, but before I bend down to get it.

Elsie holds them for me and I smile at her.

She smiles back then turns around facing the place. The abandoned greenhouse. It is constructed in black iron bars with grass spiralling around. Graved with small arts, while the rest is made of green stained glass. What a misery that this place has now perished.

The world doesn’t appreciate the beauty of details and hard work of each spiral engraved into the iron. The beauty of the stained glass that is now filled with filth and spider webs.

Elsie whistles in awe as she whispers “Wow. This is beautiful.”

“Absolutely.” My gaze isn’t on the greenhouse at all. I watch her eyes sparkle, taking in every detail. My hand brushes hers as I step forward. Holding the door to the entry as she steps beside me. We press together into the door as it creaks open and she steps in.

A huge black chandelier decorated with spider webs is dangling front the center in the high ceiling.

Elsie spins around, arms outstretched as she throws her head back. “How is this place hidden? I would spend every day here.”

The plants are dead, only a few are barely showing as a small empty fountain stands in the middle.

The edges of the white porcelain are now molded.

I sit down, feeling the coldness of its surface strike my hand.

Leaning down as I rest my elbows on my knees.

“This was built fifty years ago. Apparently a wealthy family lived nearby and the man ordered this greenhouse to be constructed for his wife.” An ant climbs up my knee as I flick it away.

“That’s romantic, imagine someone builds a whole place just for your content.” She wonders with that gorgeous smile on her face.

I lean back, stretching my legs out. “If you could have your own place, what would it be?”

She kicks a rock away as I see her eyebrows furrow slightly in consideration.

“A house, surrounded by flowers. Maybe three or two stories. With a great view like mountains, or a fountain.”

I would build a whole city for her.

“What would you build?” Her voice catches me off my dissociation.

“I don’t know, but it would be something for us.”

“Us?”

“Yes, or you want to get rid of me, mon ange?” One side of my lips curls up.

She walks towards me, sitting beside me.

She holds her pinky out. “No, I promise we never drift apart.” My pinky links with her and gives her a firm nod.

Our foreheads pressing together, I can feel her breath hitting my skin.

My head inches closer, looking at her eyes for any hesitation.

She gazes back at me with a smile and I fight every urge not to just press my lips forward onto hers.

I want her first kiss to be with me, I want it to be so good, she wouldn’t bother to kiss any guy after me.

Just an inch closer.

She jerks away from me suddenly, gasping loudly. “Clay, look!”

Disappointment fills my heart as my head turns towards the direction.

Two moths flutter ahead of us as Elsie’s eyes widen, standing up abruptly.

She reaches a hand up as a moth lands on her finger, showcasing its beautiful wings.

Elsie is in such awe, she doesn’t even breathe, scared the moth would fly away.

I stand up to my full height as I look around the silence of the greenhouse. A small movement catches my attention at the stained glass. I lean down, grabbing a log as I inch closer to the wall.

“Clay, what are you doing?” Her hunched voice echoes through the walls.

Holding the log firmly as I swing it hard and hit the walls. “Clay!”

Hundreds of different colored moths fly all around us. Elsie’s scream of joy motivated me to keep hitting the wall to disturb them further, just to see this girl happy. She runs around as her hair flows around her. Moths land all over her as she spins around.

I stand aside with a small smile, admiring her excitement. The way her eyes shine through the darkness around us. Only she would find an abandoned place this amusing and full of life.

Her eyes meet mine as she grins.

Definitely searching for more abandoned places.