Part 2

Isabel clung to Gabriel's body for days. Every time I told her it was time to let go she refused and continued to blame me. On the fourth day, Gilbert managed to drag her away. The doctor told me I should burn the body, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. I buried him beside the house and carved a wooden cross to sit on top of his grave.

Nothing was the same without Gabriel. Everything seemed so much darker and worthless. I didn't know what to do anymore without him by my side.

I stood in front of Gabriel's grave. Small seedlings of grass began to cover the once naked dirt.

"We need to talk," I heard Gilbert say behind me. "What happened to your trading business?"

"I lost it." I managed to mumble. "Lost it?" Gilbert almost exploded. "How did you manage to lose it?"

"King Henry," I whispered.

"That son of a bitch." I heard Gilbert take a few steps toward me, then he stopped when he was next to me. "I bet he was the reason you didn't get help for Gabriel sooner, huh? You didn't have the money."

I stared at Gabriel's grave as I recounted the events before Gabriel got sick, but before I could continue thinking Gilbert spoke again. "There's something else. There is something wrong with Isabel." I turned slightly toward Gilbert, waiting for him to explain. "Go inside." He told me. I didn't understand but I did as I was told. Once I got inside I heard a voice from inside the sitting room. I walked to it to find Isabel sitting on the floor. She had a tray of broken up deserts sitting on the floor next to her. "You can only have one, okay? I don't want you to spoil your dinner," She laughed. "What do you want to do after this?"

I took a step inside the sitting room and practically towered over Isabel. She didn't seem to notice me as she continued talking. "Who are you talking to, Isabel?" I finally asked. Isabel turned toward me. I noticed how much she had changed over such a short period of time. She was thinner and the bags under her eyes were a dark purple color. She looked like Gabriel when he first started getting sick. "I'm talking to Gabriel, of course." She motioned to the empty chair beside her and smiled.

At one point I think I would have felt sorry for her. Sorry that only a few days ago she lost her son, but as I looked at the empty chair then back at the fragile women who sat on the floor I felt nothing. "Gabriel is dead, Isabel."

Isabel's face didn't change as she lifted her head toward me. There was a smile that was planted on her face, it looked almost as if she had tied it there. "No, Gabriel is here. Next to me."

"Gabriel died eight days ago."

Isabel's face began to wither as my words sunk in, but she did not waver. "No, he didn't! Stop that. You're scaring him!" Isabel shouted as she shook her head side to side in denial.

"Gabriel is dead, Isabel! Can't you understand that! It's just you and me in this room! Gabriel is in the ground!" I shouted. My own words hit me like a thunderous clap and it hurt. It hurt so badly.

"Marceau, come on." I heard Gilbert say behind me.

"Everyday he waited for his mother to return! Everyday. He believed you just went into the village. You left your goddamn son! Then he grew sick and that's when you return! When he was on his deathbed!" The words were pouring out of my mouth before I could even realize what I was saying, but I didn't care.

Gilbert grabbed onto my arms and attempted to pull me out of the room where Isabel was now weeping. I managed to push him off of me and whip toward him. I needed more. That rage that I felt the day she left me was still there. It was sitting there, waiting to be unleashed again.

"And you, my own brother betrays me. He goes behind my back and sleeps with my wife! You didn't even have the strength to tell me so you kept it a secret for a whole year! You bastard," I growled. "You are a pathetic excuse for a man. You depended on me your entire life, your younger brother."

Gilbert was stunned to a silence as he watched my anger unravel before him. I turned back to Isabel who had curled into a ball. She had her hands on her head as she rocked back and forth in between her sobs.

"I wish it was you two. I wish you both died, rather than Gabriel. He was so pure, so innocent. While you two are nothing but filth."

"Marceau, that's enough!" Gilbert shouted loudly, the low grumble of his voice made Isabel and I jump. I glared at Gilbert but said nothing. I walked past him and made my way up the stairs to Gabriel's room. Once I was inside I slammed the door as hard as I could.

How does a feeling like this exist? I felt so much, yet I felt nothing all at once. I clenched my fists together as hard as I could to the point my fingernails dug into the palms of my hands. "Gabriel…" I whispered. "I miss you so much."

I was awoken from my slumber by a loud yell, one that managed to pierce my ears and draw me away from my nightmares. I opened my eyes slowly and attempted to focus on the darkness that surrounded my room at this hour, but before my eyes had a chance I heard Gilbert yelling my name. I threw the blankets off my body and stood up from the bed. As I walked down each step I felt like something wrong. I wanted to go back up the stairs and ignore whatever was happening but before I knew it I reached the last step and turned the corner to the sitting room to find Isabel cradled in Gilbert's arms. "Marceau! Help her!" Gilbert shouted at me.

Gilbert's face was covered in sweat while he was consumed in panic. When I put my attention on Isabel I found something red streaming down her arms. It began to soak into Gilbert's white cotton shirt. "She cut her wrists!" Gilbert shouted while he attempted to cover Isabel's arms.

Finally, my sleepish state passed and it was replaced with a wave of alarm and horror. My body moved on its own now as it ran to the kitchen and grabbed onto all the towels I could hold, then ran back to the sitting room. Gilbert ripped them from my grasp and quickly threw them over Isabel's wrist. He continued to firmly cover her wrists with the towel in his hand. Isabel attempted to push Gilbert away, but she was far too weak. There was so much blood that covered her body. When I followed the trail of blood I found a small puddle beneath her that had escaped from Gilbert's hand.

"My baby is gone," Isabel sobbed.

"Hey, I'm here." Gilbert attempted to coo her. Isabel ignored Gilbert and turned her head slightly so that she could see me. "Why did you let him die, Marceau?" She asked me. Her dark brown eyes searched my eyes, for some kind of answer. But I could only stare at her in shock. "He was just a boy and you let him die." Isabel's voice was faint, but her words felt like a large weight collapsing in my chest.

"Don't talk, Isabel." Gilbert comforted her. He turned toward me full of fear. "The bleeding won't stop. What do we do?" Gilbert's panicked voice was one I had never heard before. When I looked back at Isabel I found her face was as white as snow. The amount of blood she lost was just too much. There was nothing we could do for her.

Isabel had always been a determined and fierce woman. She was one of the strongest people I had ever met in my life. That is why I fell in love with her, but now she was lying limply on the ground while her blood poured from her wrists. The strong women I once knew had fallen apart.

"Marceau!" Gilbert shouted at me. Isabel's body laid lifelessly against Gilbert's, her breathing was shallow and her lips started to become discolored.

"I'm sorry, Isabel," I whispered to her, hoping she could hear me in her state. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect our son."

Gilbert's eyes widened at the realization of what I was saying. He turned back to Isabel to find her eyes were closed and her chest was hardly moving. Gilbert shook her small body. "Isabel!"

Gilbert squeezed her body as he looked up at me from the blood-colored floor he was sitting on. His brows were cast down, causing a projection of hard shadows on his eyes. "This is your fault. If you had just kept the brat alive she would still be alive."

It was my fault, wasn't it? Everything that had happened up until now, was my fault.

We buried Isabel next to Gabriel. That's where Gilbert spends most of his time now, watching over the dirt pile that once was his lover. Even after so much time had passed this numbing feeling refused to go away. No matter what I did or what I thought it continued to cloud all of my other emotions.

I stood in the sitting room and stared down at the floor. Isabel's blood stained the once blue carpet she had picked out. No matter how many times I tried to wash it away it still clung to the place she drew her last breath. I wonder if I had paid more attention would I still have work? Would I still have Isabel by my side? Would Gabriel still be alive? This all was my fault.

As I walked through the house each and everything I passed sparked some kind of memory. A memory of such happy times would play in my mind, but soon after it was devoured by the same two memories. The memory of my son crying, telling me he didn't want to die. The memory of my wife on the floor bleeding to death. I couldn't stand it any longer. I didn't want to be reminded day after day of the terrible things I had caused. I didn't want to be reminded of the people I lost because I couldn't just open my eyes and see the changes.

I grabbed the flint and steel from the fireplace's mantle and picked up a charcoal cloth. I sat in the middle of the sitting room, Isabel's blood stared back at me. I don't know if I was doing this to forget, or I was too afraid to feel anything else rather than numbness. I was about to start the fire when Gilbert walked in. He stared down at me from the archway that connected the kitchen and sitting room. Gilbert was usually an easy man to read, but his face conveyed no emotion. "What are you doing?" He asked me.

"I don't want these memories anymore," I whispered to Gilbert. Gilbert was quiet for a moment. I almost thought he didn't hear me but then he walked over to me and kneeled down next to me. He grabbed the flint and steel from me and without a word started striking the steel down across the edge of the flint until a spark caught onto the charcoal cloth. Before the cloth was completely engulfed in flames Gilbert grabbed it and tossed it onto one of the couches. It took only a few moments before the couch was caught in the flames.

Gilbert and I watched as the flames grew larger and began to spread throughout the sitting room at a moderate pace. The need to evacuate the house was not relevant as we watched, but slowly we made our way out of the house. We stood together as we watched the house get devoured in orange flames. They danced from side to side as they spread to new territory.

"King Henry has everything while we suffer." Gilbert spat. "He threw you away like you were nothing. And now, you pay the price."

The sound of wood cracking consumed my ears. I could barely hear Gilbert's voice over the sound. "He is the reason we are suffering." I heard Gilbert take a deep breath. "He deserves to pay."

Was King Henry really the reason I lost everything? Why would he make me suffer like this? What did I do to deserve this pain?

I could hardly keep my eyes open any longer as the whip was brought back down. It slashed against my bloodied back and lingered there for a while. The guard pressed the whip down against the newly made wounds. I gasped and shut my eyes to conceal the pain. Suddenly, the whip was drawn back. "Done for today." The guard snickered. My shirt was ripped open so that the guard could have easy access to my back. Every time he finished he used the front of my shirt to wipe his whip to rid it of my blood. The guard left without another word.

This was the part I feared the most. When I was left with my own thoughts and the memories I tried to ignore.