MELLIFLUOUS
(adj.) A sound that is sweet and smooth, pleasing to hear.
I refused sleep, no matter how tight slumber wrapped itself around my body, resistance was my instinct, but it had seemed I was losing both the physical and mental battle from the morphine IV, seeping into my veins, traveling deeper and deeper into my body to numb my thoughts, everything was tipping and blurring, all of it seemed like I was in a dream.
My body wouldn't allow the sweet sensation of rest inside, the adrenaline of anger and rage stormed wildly like a feral animal, my soul too far gone to understand what happened.
A secret storm no one would ever understand despite their attempts and lies. Something about a family slaughter changes you, especially if you're a child that witnessed firsthand their own brother killing their own kin.
"Father… Mother…I…Itachi." My thoughts would cycle those three words.
Sharp pulses of pain would thrum through my body like a drum, especially my head.
"It hurts." The more the pain increased, the less I was able to differ the days and times. I felt like I was stuck in this white room of silence for a year, when in reality, it's only been a week. It was so confusing, everything in my head was jumbled up; how old was I again? Where did I sleep in my house? Where was I?
Frustration came with my confusion, only desiring to forget every detail of that day, I tried to distract myself by accepting sleep, but my thoughts rejected my attempts, it seemed as if my brain was trying to hang on to something, forcing me to try to remember.
When I tried to consume nourishment, my own body rejected it, and I'd threw up; Every time I tried to eat, it was all sand and needles going down my throat, painful, distasteful, and unappetizing.
Hunger wasn't an issue for me, it all just made my throat scratchy and small, what was the point?
Perhaps I wanted to die, to see my kind mother, even my distant father who showed kindness to me on occasions, their company was part of my soul, yet now it felt like the life of my heart had been sucked dry and torn in half. There was nothing left inside, all I am now, is an empty shell.
The smell of anesthetic burned my nostrils, made my other senses numb and weak from the intense burn that forced my screaming to remain inside of my body. Burning, something was burning. Why didn't I notice before?
I closed my eyes, the burn had stung my eyes, I found the buildup of tears was annoyingly useless and a waste.
What was right? What was wrong?
My name is… Sa… What was it again?
"Sasuke…I'm—…Ju—So—you—…Young to under—…Forgive me." A voice said, it's tone dull but clearly throbbed in pain. It was somehow soothing?
My eyes shot open. My brother's voice that day, but he had never apologized that day, he smiled and pointed a gun to my hea— A blurry flash in my head made my body freeze and spasm slightly.
A warm, wet feeling was on my cheek that day, by brother… he touched my cheek―he was crying that day, but… He wasn't…
I was…
Raining… Was it raining that day? There was a fire… but it was raining?
Bleach and feather.
Red paint.
Fear, and a plane.
Ticks of the clock on the right wall had suddenly seemed so sharp, the morphine made me too numb to remember my daydream.
My parents were murdered by Itachi.
He was… cold and murderous.
He had a knife, he was coming towards me and he cut my jaw to scare me. He was the one who burned our home. I reminded myself, what I had saw was real. My family slaughtered and burned into nothing but ashes with the house.
Mother… Father…
The long hand followed the ticks of every second, sending ripples of frost through my frail bones, creating an ache that grew worse overtime with every breath of oxygen in my lungs, the air was liquid nitrogen to my warm body, just eating away at me like parasite.
Slowly, my eyelids shut gently, surprised I didn't realize sooner my eyes were dry, memories of the fire and the dead drowned my thoughts like black ink, blinded by the intense emotions, but I couldn't get away because there were no exits, just a pathway of severe emotions.
If only I wasn't so weak, maybe I could have done something to avenge my family.
Like a casual child, I had taken the bus to get back home, saying goodbye to my friends while I stuck my tongue at them. We were so naïve and young.
At the time, everything was just a simple play that I was a marionette for, when I look back I realized everything was just a lie from the adults.
All the adults had made these illusions for children to believe, composing false security to all of us. To them they might have believed they were protecting us, but the more innocence they tried to protect, the harder the child would fall once they had a taste of reality.
It was early spring, so the weather was on the chilly side, with only the mild heat from the sunlight that hit on my skin, I was eager to get home as soon as I could since that morning, my parents had bought me a present for scoring top marks in my whole grade, Itochu had told me earlier that day it was a remote controlled plane. When I thought back to it, why was I so excited?
My legs sprinted down the sidewalk, the splotches of blood weren't of importance to me since it wasn't noticeable.
What stopped me, was when I saw the blood trails and fingerprints on pale sidewalk, reminding me of blood on snow.
Striking yet terrifying; Blood rain during a drought.
Suddenly everything had processed in my head, suddenly I was scared.
Scared and worried for my family, I followed the blood out of curiosity, and found the house in flames and brother slicing our mother's corpse in pieces, half of her cadaverous body was burnt. My scream was choked from my tightened throat, it felt like my lungs had taken hostage of my air, liquid proof of my grief spilled from my eyes, blurring my eyesight, wishing this was a bad dream; I begged for my brother Itachi to explain to me what he had done.
Despite my hopes, the moment my brother turned to me, his eyes were crazed and hysterical, his smile completing the theme of hysteria and madness, spots of messy blood was stained on his pale skin, just like blood on snow.
Unnerving.
Something told me that the blood wasn't his, the smoke watered my eyes, I swallowed a cough, afraid I would misinterpret his words if I made a single noise, move; breathing seemed too big of a risk to take.
His eyes met mine and his reply was shockingly quiet.
"You're far too little to understand. I'm sorry Sasuke. I'm so sorry."
Only a sadistic man would apologize for such a thing, when he never meant it, as if mocking me was the most entertaining game for him. One last attempt to hurt me more.
His apology meant nothing to me.
With an intent to avenge my family, I threw myself at him to take his life, my arms flailing uselessly at him, not thinking of what he could do to me because of our age gap, I was disadvantaged because of his tall stature and stronger arms. Grief rose higher, because I was weak, I allowed my family to die and I couldn't avenge them for their souls to rest in peace.
I was such a stupid fool.
My stature was short in comparison since I was only in the middle of elementary school, whereas he was in his senior year of high school. Weak was the definition how what I was, who I was. Whenever I would get upset or angry over something, I'd always cry.
My thin fingers were weakened by the narcotics I was hooked to, but I managed to grip my sheets with all my might, my back slightly hunched as I stared at my lap. Rivulets of my grief escaped through the corners of my eyes, temporarily staining the bleached sheets into a gloomy gray, the gray color blooming to a dreary flower pattern.
The only thing I could do was beg him to tell me why he did this. He didn't even answer me.
The narcotics soon loosed the grip I had on consciousness, taking me under its blanket of dreams and lies.
I surrendered because I had nowhere else to go. Everything was gone. An empty canvas that once promised a beautiful dreams.
No one was going to soothe his tears. His family was slaughtered to nothing but bits of ashes. His body keeled to bend closer to his legs, elbows digging into the bed beside his knees. Frail limbs trembled in the dark. Sasuke's limbs.
He had dreamt of his brother destroying the windows of their house, he awoke with painful fear in his body. Even in his dreams, his brother refused to allow him any peace even in the world of slumber.
"Itachi…Why…? Didn't you love our parents? They…They loved you and me so..." heaved words escaped through his shivering voice; anguish clear in his tone, but unheard because of his sore throat, worn out from his break down when he was found, how he had to be restrained and knocked out. His screams rendering to be a useless call for a relief for his torment. The memories of his warm family began to surface; His father's face subtly smiling, his mother earnestly smiling and laughing, his older brother whom he admired so much―helping Sasuke practice for his sport's team.
The solitude the dark room provided him was the closest thing to a sanctuary as it was a torture chamber; being left alone in the dark forced his thoughts to become his greatest enemy, hallucinations and self-blame, but also offering silent peace.
Being alone was all he had now, all he could afford to keep himself safe from any more harm.
It's better to have nothing than anything in the real world. Sasuke contented to himself.
This pain burned deep in his veins like lava, choking every free breath he could manage out of his lungs. Phlegm filled airways was the best way to describe the tender burn that left him heaving. It would never stop. So many things that he would have found curious and interesting were no longer of any sort of interest to him, it was as interesting as black and white.
Nothing.
Just upsetting.
The world's extraordinary, incongruous offers were bland as air. Everything was painful to feel and think. Maybe he wanted to die along with his parents, maybe it wouldn't be so painful anymore.
"Sasuke."
A soft voice called, he jerked his head to find the source of the voice. For a moment, he thought it was his mother calling his name, if it was, he would have gratefully taken an offer to join his mother and father.
It was a woman with blond hair, her bangs divided at the middle of her face. Her eyes were a strong hazel gold, her eyes were windows to her fierce spirit, but she looked downhearted, her well-shaped lips were slightly frowned; they were tinted a rose shade that reminded Sasuke of cherries. She avoided his gaze and stretched her clenched fist to unravel her fingers, revealing a pill.
"…Tsunade…" Sasuke quietly replied, voice cracked, remembering that she was his doctor that was taking care of him at the moment. Found in her hands was a chalky pill in her left, and a cup of cold water in her right when he took the time to observe.
He hesitated and opened his mouth to ask what the pills were for since he was force fed one earlier, but easily gave up on the idea; he just didn't care anymore. His finger pinched the pill, feeling the hardy pill before popping it into his mouth, taking the cup and forced it down his throat, choking a bit from the sudden cold water going down his desert dry voice. He dropped the cup on the floor. Tsunade allowed the action to pass by, Sasuke was going through shock, she was a tough lady, but she wasn't heartless. She exhaled softly and placed a hand on his darkened temple, brushing over a small cut with her thumb.
The pill scraped the tube of his throat but he only glared at the floor. Tsunade lingered for a bit, her left foot shifting closer to the right.
She looked like she was debating whether or not it was the right time to speak to him, but was also unsure what to say to him exactly
Out of desperate need to escape his misery, Sasuke turned to the side, focusing on the IV bag dangling on a high stand. A thin tube slid under my veins, dripping inside of what I knew was morphine.
As if she knew, or rather had to, she took the dripper and adjusted the morphine flow, increasing it as she slowly stroked her thumb over the knob. Her lips were pursed and she seemed to be arguing with herself, maybe she knew what it was like to lose everything.
She's empathizing with me. Sasuke mused calmly. Looking at Tsunade, Sasuke asked "Why aren't the police telling me anything about Itachi?"
The nurse paused before offering a heavy shake of her head "This case is special, your family's case is classified."
Almost immediately, his eyes drifted lower, sleep overtaking him, forcing his head to nod. Tsunade tucked him in bed and silently closed the door when she left. When she walked down the hallway the unpleasant aroma of disinfectant spray in the air reminded her of the burdensome choices she must follow. She was a doctor and this was her job.
Cloudy shrouds of dark powder overwhelmed, soon fading to a blank abyss with empty dreams.
Sasuke soon fell asleep, expecting to dream of nothing this time, just crying for someone to be there for him when he had nothing.
The fear however, drained when he forced his eye open for a brief second. A fox's face greeted him before he was dragged into a dream about a blonde boy and a young fox playing hopscotch.