Page 4 of Deluge
I do my best not to let myself think about that too much. Mom and Kalen are in the backyard, so I can visit with them anytime I want to, but it’s not the same.
I don’t know why I wanted so much to impress the monster that started all of this. Maybe it’s because Luna made him seem like some kind of superhero, even though there’s never been a greater villain in my life.
And he’salwaysbeen there.
Even when I couldn’t see him.
His presence lingered in my blood, stalked almost every nightmare after Mom got sick, and sat silently watching me in the darkest corner of my room when I would turn the lights off.
Kalen never saw it, and if he did, he ignored it.
I should have been more like my brother,I think ruefully as I linger in the doorway of his room. Stepping inside, I close the door behind me and go perch at the end of his bed.
I haven’t opened the window in here since he left.I haven’t washed his sheets or picked up the clothes strewn all over his carpeted bedroom floor because the scent of him still lingers.
It's becoming ever more faint as the days go on, but I like to come in here now and again to remind myself that Ididhave a brother.
A real flesh and blood companion that cared for me as much as I did for him. A mirror image that held me in such high regard until I betrayed him all in the name of some miserable fuck I hadn’t even met at that point.
ChapterThree
I startle awakeat the sound of faint tapping at the front door.
I don’t remember even making it to my bedroom, let alone lying down.
Rubbing the sudden sleep from my eyes, I take a deep breath before pushing myself onto my elbows.
If it really was a knock I heard, I’ll get up and see who in the world could possibly give enough of a fuck about what’s left of me to visit. If it wasn’t, I’m going back to sleep. Purposely this time.
Another round of gentle, impatient rapping faintly wafts back toward me from the front of the house, and I sigh as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and get to my feet.
A huff of breath escapes me when I make my way down the hall, and the damn knocking stops.
Figures,I think unhappily as I decide to open the door anyway and see who my uninvited visitor might be.
But the closer I get, the more I’m aware of a white, crudely ripped strip of paper, folded once in half, sitting just inside the house.
Who slips notes under a door anymore?
Before I decide to find out the answer to that question, I reach the front door, pull it open, and arch an eyebrow when I find an empty step.
I lean out slightly, glancing up and down the street before my eyes narrow suspiciously.
If someone is playing games, they’ve decided to play them with the wrong person. I’m a shell of the person I was before my brother died—no. No, before I killed my brother. He didn’t just up and die, it was my goddamn fault, and I have to take responsibility for that eventually.
Maybe then I’ll be able to look at myself in the mirror again, I think as I step back into the hollow home, then lean down to scoop up the scrap of paper.
Instead of reading it right away, I toss it on the small table beside the door and make my way toward the kitchen.
I’m always so damn thirsty when I wake up, so before I even give credence to the fact that someone was here, let alone left me a note, I want to quench it and maybe come to a little bit first.
Once I reach the refrigerator, I pull the door open, then lean in to grab the gallon jug of water I keep inside.
As the door closes slowly against my side, I take a deep breath and twist the cap off the jug.
It’s still making that damn silent electrical shock noise, but I don’t have it in me to get rid of it. This was one of the things that Hailey bought before she left.
“I’ll call someone to come fix it,” I mumble quietly before raising the jug to my lips and moving away from the door. Where the money will come from is beyond me since I haven’t been to work in a few days, but I’ll figure it out somehow.