Page 79 of Unholy Masks

That couldn’t be…

I stopped only when I reached my home. I pushed past the steel gate, ran through the yard filled with potted flowers. The air reeked of gardenias. I kicked a pot by the door, and it shattered, the dirt spilling over the white marble floor.

I walked into the kitchen, gasping for breath.

“Shit, shit, shit, why? How?”

I grabbed a bottle of water and emptied it, but my heart refused to slow down.

“Pathetic. You’re pathetic, boy. The cops already know who you are, what you do, and when they come knocking. Oh, you weak, little boy.”

I closed my eyes, shaking my head.

No. They didn’t know. They couldn’t know. I was careful. I had always been careful.

“Why are they sitting in front of her house then? Oh, you stupid little boy. Didn’t I tell you? Mama always knows best.”

“SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

I slammed my hands against the marble counter, over and over again, until my skin started to redden, until the pain quieted the voice in my head.

Sweat trailed down my back, down my eyes, down my throat. My shirt was drenched.

No. How?

I came too close to becoming visible.

I could have ended up in prison. I could have died in prison, forever tormented by my mother.

I once escaped a prison made by my mother. I couldn’t go back again.

“Fuck. It’s impossible. I—” I gasped, grabbing another bottle of water, pouring it down my face.

“What happened? You okay?”

I jerked back when the light came on. I looked up at my brother. Well, he wasn’t my brother, not legally, not by blood. Our father just told us that was what we were when he took me home, after he murdered my mother.

Everyone believed I killed my mother. But it was him, my father.

I shook my head.

“Is it the same nightmare?” he said, walking toward me, his eyes filled with concern.

I nodded.

I was his little brother. He protected me and loved me. I didn’t know why he did, but he never scorned me for where I came from. He always treated me like I was his brother.

“It’s nothing.”

“You look pale.”

“I’m fine. Go sleep,” I said, turning away from him, wiping the sweat off.

“Want to sleep in my room?”

I smiled, shaking my head.

“I’m okay. Don’t worry about me,” I said, trying hard to calm my heart down.