"Jeff's Apprentice"
01: Beautiful Red
I remember the beautiful red that I saw when I was a kid. Even more beautiful than a rose. It was beautiful, yet haunting.
I was standing infront of the boy's bathroom with a crowd behind me. The color red splashed in stark contrast to the room's white tiles.
It was there that I saw my younger brother lifeless on the deep red pool.
It was there that even my vision was clouded by red. Hatred. Guilt. Rage. Pain. I could feel them all. I'm sure my older brother felt it too. He was seething with these emotions as he charged towards the group of kids behind us.
It turned into an intense battle and even I was surprised to see my older brother pummel six to seven kids on the ground. The teacher came though, so the fight was cut off.
I walked over to my older brother and hugged him, not muttering a word. He seemed to have calmed down, but his body was shaking. I could tell from the way my shoulder was getting soaked that he was crying.
"I couldn't be there for him..." He whispered through clenched teeth, "I'm a useless brother...!"
I didn't say anything anymore. I didn't have to. He knows it anyways. This was all my fault. Because I'm like this. Because I lived with the standards this society brought up, that even though everyone says that if you follow them, you won't be hated, it backfired.
Everything went downhill because of the standards. Because of me.
So the afternoon after that, the police came and sent the group of kids to the jouvenile prison. My brother was let off with a warning, and the body of our younger brother was taken off to be examined and prepared.
Three days later, the funeral was held. Of course, there were only few people. That includes us, and a couple of our playmates and their parents who had nothing to do.
Aside from my older brother, nobody else shed a tear.
Ah, I knew it. We were nothing to them. Not even friends or neighbors.
I mean, who would be to a group of siblings who were abandoned by their parents at the age of four? If not even our own parents would love us, then who will?
The clouds started forming and pellets of rain poured heavily on us. Everyone walked away, leaving me and brother behind. I looked up to the sky with a small smile.
Thank you rain, for crying for us.
Brother stood up and walked towards me, lightly dropping his hand on my shoulder.
With a broken smile, he said, "Let's go back home,"
I nodded and followed him back. Our house was nothing special, unlike the rest of the houses in the neighborhood. All the others had two to three stories and had beautiful plants and yards infront.
Ours was plain, but the warmth was there whenever we get inside.
That wasn't the case tonight at all. It felt cold and restricting, as if the house was telling us that we are not welcomed at all.
A/n:
Pardon me for putting this up, but I am proud to say that I like Jeff the Killer.
Nyahahahaha!
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