Four: Dreams

Chapter theme music: Mad World by Gary Jules

Melinda awoke with a start. At nine years old, she was the lightest sleeper she knew. She sat up, groggy, trying to determine what had woken her. A feint gasping sound could be heard down the hallway. Slowly, she pulled herself out from under the covers and stumbled to the door. As she reached for the handle, a sudden groan and muffled wheezing shook her to her senses. Something awful was happening. Was Peter having an asthma attack?

She flung the door open and looked into his room. No one was there. Then, she realized that the sounds she had heard came, not from her brother's room, but from that of her parents. Turning around, she hurried to their bedroom doorway. She stopped short.

Peter stood calmly at the side of the bed. Why would he be up at 3 am?

After a few seconds of trying to piece together the situation in her mind, Peter slowly turned to face Melinda. Something gleamed in the dark as he moved. Something he held in his right hand, dangling nonchalantly by his side.

Fear seized Melinda. Peter turned completely around to face her. The whole front of his body was splattered in blood. It ran down his bare chest and dripped from his hands. He stepped towards Melinda. Terror stricken, she backed down the hall, breathing heavily, slowly shaking her head. He continued towards her, moving very slowly, with a slight smile on his face.

"How nice of you to join us."

Something hard pressed against Melinda's back. The closet door at the end of the hall stopped her silent retreat.

"Why?" she asked quietly. "Why would you kill your own parents?"

Peter stopped walking. His expression changed completely. His smile twisted into a look of controlled rage and disgust. "Why? How dare you ask me that. Ever since you and your stupid sister joined this family, they've never given me a second look. I was nine. I could take care of myself. Why should they worry about raising me? After all, you were only three, and that idiotic waste of skin you call "sister" wasn't even two. Why should my parents, my actual parents, worry about me when you both were so helpless and alone?"

Peter's voice began to shake. "For these past six years, all they've ever done for me is say, "Oh, really? Good job" whenever I brought home another award. But, with you, anything you did was amazing. "You got straight A's? Again? That's amazing! Congratulations! We should go celebrate." Or worse, with your sister, "Oh, look at that. You actually passed your math test. That's great! You always try so hard. We love you so much.""

He spat the last two words. His breathing had become heavy and his body shook.

Melinda eased herself away from the closet and backed into the kitchen, her hands behind her so she knew where she was going.

"But, why now?" Melinda asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Why would you decide to do something to them now?" Her hands felt behind her as she reached the far side of the kitchen.

Peter looked at her steadily. He visibly calmed down. The shaking stopped and his breathing returned to normal. "What day was yesterday?" he asked gently.

A sense of dread fell on Melinda. Yesterday? Why was it important? What could have possibly happened on this date that would send him over the edge like this?

"Can't remember, can you? Then think about this. What day is two weeks from now?"

Two weeks. December 21st.

Melinda's breath caught in her throat. That was the date on which Savannah and she had been adopted. Two weeks after...

"That's right. You remember now. After all, you were adopted for a reason. Today is the sixth anniversary of Sarah's death."

Melinda was horrified with herself. How did I forget? This day has always been so important to him. He's always had us visit her grave, the grave that holds the remains of his seven-year-old sister that died of leukemia so many years ago.

"Instead of viewing this day as sacred, the four of you went to a movie to congratulate Savannah on getting a C on her English presentation. Mom and Dad never even mentioned the significance of this day. I did the right thing. They were terrible people. Going through with the adoption only two weeks after their own daughter's death - completely forgetting about her and their real son. Coddling both of you and leaving me in a world of loneliness and despair. They sickened me, and so I decided to rid this world of their worthless existences."

Melinda slid open the drawer behind her. Her fingers gingerly felt around, searching. Suddenly, something struck her. This whole time he's been saying how much he hates his parents, but in truth, he hates us more. What if he's already...?

"Savannah. Have you done anything to Savannah?"

Peter took three steps towards her. "How could I possibly not visit her first?" His eyes lit up and a wicked smile spanned his face. "I gave her a present to congratulate her after all."

He held up the thirteen-inch blade that he clutched in his hand. "One nice stab for each of the years she's lived with us, like I'll do to you. You, who was unable to protect her. You slept, dreaming of ice cream and ponies while I mutilated her small, defenseless body."

Tears streamed down Melinda's face. "How could you? She was all I had."

Melinda shook violently where she stood. Throughout the many years that she had lived here, she'd always felt loved, but it was a strange, misplaced love. She had quickly come to understand that her new parents were trying to hide from their own devastation by taking in the newly orphaned girls. They had devoted themselves to the two children, pushing their own son away, seeing in his features vivid reminders of the beautiful little girl they'd lost so tragically. Having come to understand all of this, Melinda had never truly connected with them. The only person she actually loved was Savannah, the young, silly, and seemingly helpless girl that everyone loved and protected, and yet still came off as so vulnerable. Although only a year her junior, Savannah had always seemed so small to Melinda. Whereas Melinda looked and acted a good five years older than she was, Savannah had always behaved much younger than her age. The loss of their parents had affected the two girls in opposite ways. Melinda matured much too quickly. Savannah didn't seem to mature at all. And Peter had taken her away.

Peter resumed his slow advance. Melinda sidestepped behind the kitchen table. Any sign of a smile disappeared from Peter's face as his mind focused on the best way to outmaneuver the girl. At fifteen, he'd have a longer reach than her, but not by much. That girl's a monster, he thought. Over five feet at nine years old. It probably would have been easier if she was asleep like Mom and Dad, but this will be more fun.

He flew at her, slashing at her side as he rounded the table. She leapt away, jumping over the coffee table and rushing upstairs. Peter was closing in on her. She could hear his footsteps pounding up the stairs behind her. Once at the top of the staircase, Melinda pushed with all her might on the dresser that rested against the wall. It tottered and crashed down toward him, glancing off of Peter's left shoulder as he dodged to avoid it. Crying out in pain, his already blood soaked body became even more covered. He pulled a long sliver of wood from his shoulder and threw it away from him.

Melinda could see her death in his eyes. She rushed down the hall, and slid into the study, then through the bathroom into the spare bedroom. Sarah's old room, she thought to herself. Why think of that now?

She listened as closely as she could. Nothing could be heard over the volume of her own breathing. So she held her breath.

Nothing. Silence. She had no idea where Peter was.

She slid along the wall silently, hoping to hear him bump into something in the near black that filled the second story. Was I right to run up here? Will this really work?

She stopped moving just before rounding the corner where she could see back out into the hall. Slowly, she turned her head and peered around the corner.

"Found you."

Melinda didn't have time to react. She felt the blade enter her left shoulder with such force that she heard it penetrate the wall she was pressed up against.

"Now we're even. Shoulder for shoulder. Unfortunately for you, I don't plan to stay even. Where should I put the next five?"

Peter pulled the knife toward Melinda's sternum, slicing through her as it slid along below her collar bone. What monstrous strength, she thought, straining not to faint from the pain. She could hear the blade tearing through the wall behind her. Her body seemed paralyzed. The shock was so great she could barely breathe.

Finally, Peter yanked the knife free of her body and the wall. "Time to die," he whispered, raising the knife over his shoulder.

"What's all the noise?"

Peter looked towards the door in surprise. Melinda's senses returned to her. She raised her right arm, trying very hard not to loosen her grip. Peter turned back to look at her and his eyes widened slightly as the blade entered his throat. He let out a crackly gasp and blood flowed from his mouth and neck. Melinda withdrew the knife she had taken from the kitchen as Peter stumbled backwards. A look of surprise leapt to his face. He walked towards the door and the small figure that stood there, knife still in hand. As he staggered forward, he swung the knife madly.

His body shuddered as Melinda drove her blade into his back, again and again. Peter's body went limp and he sprawled on the floor.

"Six stabs. The same as you gave Savannah, you heartless monster." Melinda stood there, sobbing, until her legs buckled beneath her and she fell hard into a wall.

"What are you talking about? Nobody stabbed me."

Melinda looked up. Savannah stood in the doorway, just out of reach of Peter's outstretched arms. Through the agony, Melinda hadn't even registered Savannah's presence. Her sobbing became bewildered.

"You're alright? He didn't hurt you?" she asked in disbelief. Peter really knew how to hurt me, didn't he? He lied knowing that having Savannah die without me being there to protect her would be the most painful thing in the world for me to bear.

"I'm fine. But, what happened? You're bleeding. Melinda? Melinda!"

Melinda collapsed, smiling. I saved her after all.

"Hey, are you alright? You're crying."

Melinda looked up to see Gojyo kneeling before her, his hands resting gently on her shoulders, a genuine look of concern on his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm alright, really. It just hurts to remember."

"I know what you mean." Gojyo lowered his hands and moved back to sit beside her. Images of his brother standing over his mother's dead body passed before his eyes. "It really can hurt. But, you know, it's also good to remember. After all, what are we as people, other than a collection of hopes and memories?"

Melinda turned to him and smiled gently. "Right," she said. "Even the things that damage us make us who we are."

Gojyo reached a hand out and brushed the tears from her cheeks.

"You know," he said, "when I see a pretty girl cry, it makes me want to make her feel better."

Melinda felt Gojyo's hand slide around her back and rest on her side. She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, allowing him to pull her close.

"I'll help you in whatever way I can. Remember that."

Melinda allowed herself a slight smile. I can live on, she thought. I still have someone to protect.

End Chapter

Chapter theme music: Mad World by Gary Jules

Note: This flashback sequence is actually a dream that I had the night before writing it. o_O