Warm blood is escaping between my fingers. And I could feel it.
Its strong, pungent smell is clinging to me, and now it's even suffocating me. I'm already finding it hard to breathe here, since it's such a compact and dusty place. My heart beat so loud I could hear it echoing in here, and my pulses thudding so rapidly that they might burst any second.
I shouldn't have done that, I shouldn't. . .Why did I let my instinct take charge? I should have withstood it for some more time. But...if I hadn't done it first, he might have killed me. I saved myself, didn't I?
Oh come on, you attacked him in this dark room knowing he can't do anything in the situation, don't fool yourself. You attacked him to kill him, not to save yourself.
However, I need to calm down. Before Mum comes into the store room and sees what I did to her husband, I should leave. I can't have her looking at me like I'm some murderer. Which I am now for sure.
I don't have the guts to move now, but I do. I bend down and crouch next to my Dad's lifeless body. My eyes are flickering so frantically over all the blood and mess I created with my own hands. I reach my hand out and grab the handle of the scissors. Slowly pulling it back from his neck.
My trembling hands make it agonizing to pull the blade out in one go.
I'm scared. I'm so scared. It's not that easy, I thought it would be.
I don't want to regret this, not when it's too late. But the feeling of becoming whom I hated the most is so overwhelming. So disgusting that I don't want to breathe to keep myself alive now.
Tears blur my vision, and my hold on the handle gets tighter. I should stop right here. Stop exactly from where things can get worse, but a part of me, a part of me which was so brave just a moment ago when I seized the scissors from the table, is still working. A part of me that knows that the guilt and fear I'm feeling right now are not stronger than the pain he gave me.
Fourteen years. Ever since I was born, every day I lived and every breath I took. . . this man, this man made me regret it. Every second of my life, he made me regret living.
Burn in hell, Ethan Carter.
I stabbed the scissor deeper in his throat this time, and my breath hitched when his blood came splattering over my face. I keep my lips tightly sealed because no matter in heaven or hell, I'm not taking his blood in.
Don't lose it again, I remind myself. Think about Mom more than this bastard. Let's clean this up and get out. I'll throw him in the lake behind the house. Just don't want Mom to know about this.
She will never forgive me; moreover, she'll hate me. And I don't want that. I know how much weight she holds in my life, and there's no way I'm losing her love because of this jerk.
I take these blades out. Fiercely this time, as my mind is filled with his sins now.
I no longer feel guilty, not even scared. I just stare down on him and his half-lidded eyes beneath where blue pupils are peeking out.
Goddammit. Why now? Why am I remembering this now? Mum told me my eyes look just like his, and this made me want to poke my eyes many times.
I stretched my hand back, holding the scissor tightly, and then with full force I thrust them deep inside his pupil. Strange why I never thought about taking his eyeballs out? Why should I take mine? When he is the one responsible for why I hate them.
I don't remember how many times I have already stabbed him in his sockets now, I just know my hand paused in the air when I heard footsteps coming closer. So close. Just outside.
Mom?
Dammit. I was so invested in drawing his blood out that I forgot I needed to leave this place. What should I do now? If she saw me, I would be dead. God, please. Where shall I run now?
My head snaps in every direction, one by one, looking somewhere to hide or to run outside.
But before I could even take a step forward, scissors fell on the ground from my hand at the sound of the door slamming open.
My Mom enters and looks at me.
" Austin!?"