ALEKSEY
Two weeks ago. I didn't know my life had already ended.
I pull up on our driveway late at night. I'm running on fumes, and the promise of sleep next to my husband when I get home. I haven't texted him that I'll be returning earlier than expected from my business trip since I forgot to charge my phone before the flight. Like always.
I turned off my car and stepped outside, breathing the sobering cool night air. I stretch, trying to wake my numb body. I walk around to the front of my Porsche to get my suitcase, but I decide against it.
Nah, I'll do it tomorrow. I'm too damn tired. I just want to crawl into bed and let him hold me.
Taking a step back, I admire the beauty. My car was Derek's gift to me for our seventh wedding anniversary. I glanced towards Derek's car beside mine, and I smiled. My gift to him on our sixth wedding anniversary was a top of the line supra.
Glancing at our cars, our home, and the life we have now, it always fills my heart with warmth, even as drained as I am right now.
We did well, Derek, we did well.
I step into our home and close the door silently. It's close to midnight, and Derek's definitely asleep. I guess getting old does that to people. He's only 36 to my 31, but still.
I take a step towards the stairs up to our bedroom when my foot slips on something.
Did he buy a new carpet?
Taking a step back at the thing, I rub at my eyes to clear the sleep from them, to focus on what had almost made ass kiss the floor.
It's too small to be a carpet. Is it a rug?
Looking around the floor, I see a bunch of them strewn about haphazardly. With my still hazy mind, I pick one up and study it. I froze in place.
Did he leave his clothes just laying on the foyer?
My brows knitted. Derek has always been tidy, an unavoidable outcome of being in the military for so long. I look at the things on the floor some more, and worry starts to build in my gut.
I pick up one of the shirts on the floor, and the scent of floral perfume assails my nose. Derek hates overly sweet floral perfumes. Something cold slid down my spine and didn't stop.
Blood drains from my face, making it feel cold and hot at the same time. My eyes fixated on the piece of clothing in my hand. My throat turns dry, and I can feel every heartbeat my heart makes throughout my body, making me sway.
I let go of the thing as if it stung me. My mind is racing, making scenes of everything. Flickering through the past days, past weeks, before I left for London, to see some sign that this is all a misunderstanding. Or worse, signs that I missed something that led him to this.
I didn't even notice that I hadn't breathed at all. I forced myself to take a breath in and tried to calm my palpitating heart. That's when the noise upstairs reached my senses. I don't know why I haven't noticed it the moment I walked in, but those noises shattered me, and broke something in me that I know I've lost forever.
The first step I took was out of the courage I could muster; the second was the rage that overtook me.
My fists balled up as I walked towards our bedroom, not really hiding my presence, a last plea to make Derek stop what he's doing or who he is doing.
To make them stop and compose themselves before I opened the door, for him to say it was just a misunderstanding, that they were watching porn or something, anything but what I assumed.
But I know those grunts, I know those sounds of passion. I know it, because that's what he sounds like with me, deep in lovemaking.
The closer I get, the more vivid and feral the sounds get. I hesitate to turn the knob.
I know that when I walk through these doors, it will change our lives forever. I repeat these thoughts over and over in my head to stall for time, on what exactly? I can't say.
This is what you get for being happy.
I said to myself. A side of me that always lingers in the back of my head.
Did you actually think life was just gonna give you your 'perfect' Derek without a catch?
"Shut up," I said faintly, as self-loathing crept throughout my skin.
Honey, dear, have you not learned anything? You were abandoned as a kid.
"Shut up," I mumbled, fury bubbling up.
Hurt by those who claimed to care for you.
"Shut up, shut up."
Adopted by wealthy parents—but as soon as you secretly help them have a kid of their own…what they really wanted…
"Shut up, shut up, I said shut up." Tears threatening to fall.
They shut you out. Acting like you didn't exist; well, much worse actually, they treated you like a cockroach.
"Shut up!" I exhale, tears falling.
I grip my head hard to stop these thoughts in my head. Hitting my head with my palm, grab my hair, and pull on it to relieve the pressure inside my head.
The only reason why they couldn't return you to that Godawful orphanage is that it burned down.
I snap. I kick the door in, and everything inside me fractures.
My younger brother, Julian, is getting pummeled from the back by my husband. It is as if the world wants me to see this in full detail and clarity, as time seems to have stopped.
This scene got burned through my eyes and into the deepest part of my soul.
I locked eyes with my husband, who looked mortified. I look at my brother, and he smiles at me, that deeply satisfied smile he gets when he knows he got me.
I glance back at Derek, and sadness and regret dance in his eyes. But rage filled mine.
How dare you feel sorry for yourself when you did this to us! To me!
I didn't know what I was doing before I realized it, but I couldn't stop. I directed all my anger and all the years of frustration at my brother.
One moment, he was lying there being smug, and the next, I was levitating him from across the room and peeling the skin off his flesh with my magic.
His screams of agony and terror pierce my ears. It's so visceral. Raw. Animal. Wrong and horrifying, and I want it to stop.
I WANT EVERYTHING TO STOP!
"SHUT UP!!!"
I scream in agony at my brother, at the world. With a grabbing motion, my hand closes, and his throat obeys.
"Babe, STOP!" Derek pleaded. "Aleksey, shit, you'll kill him!"
His pleading only adds fuel to my burning, all-consuming rage within me.
Tears now freely flowing from my eyes as I lock eyes with my brother. Hurt and anger flash through his brown eyes, but most of all, I see pleading and regret in them, too.
Have you ever heard of murderers say, 'I blacked out.' I thought that was just an excuse they tell everyone and themselves to lessen the guilt.
But as the dark haze lifts from my eyes and the ringing in my ear fades, all I see is the color red.
I didn't know that a body could hold so much blood. The spot where my brother once stood is now one big splatter. Blood covered the sheets, the walls, and the ceiling. Julian, or any trace of him aside from the blood, was gone.
I glanced at Derek, now across the room, covered in my brother's blood, a hand clutched at his side, sitting on the floor with his back to the wall. He looks like he got thrown against it.
By whom? I'm not entirely sure.
Did I do that?
The wall is cracked, and plaster falls to the ground beside Derek. I looked at the room, and rubble was everywhere. A cough brought my attention to Derek. I feel so stunned and numb. When our eyes met, I saw terror and bewilderment shown across his eyes and face.
I took a tentative step towards him, but he raised an arm that was not clutching the wound on his side to shield himself from me.
From me…
"I-i…"
I started to speak, but his amber eyes flashed gold. A warning not get close to him. I'm so lost, and I don't know what to do. I know what I have done, but the gravity of it all hasn't hit me just yet.
"Do-don't!" Derek said with gritted teeth, his fangs showing.
So I took a step back. Then another. Then another, until the doorframe is the only thing holding me up.
In an eerie, calm, and dazed manner, I walk outside our home. Our neighbor looks at my home's direction with worry. Tim, a close neighbor of ours, walks towards me hurriedly.
"Is everything okay, Aleksey? We heard a scream and something exploding inside your house." Concern in his face.
I did not respond.
"Oh my Goddess! Are you hurt!?"
He pointed at my suit. I looked down, and I was covered in blood. In my brother's blood. I feel nauseous.
Oh fuck, what have I done! My blood runs cold.
"Martha, call emergency services!" His wife runs into their house. "Don't worry, Aleksey, help is on the way. Where's Derek?"
He holds my shoulders to steady me, but the touch only makes my stomach clench. But I still did not answer. I feel out of it, shellshocked from everything.
"It's okay, stay here. I'll go look for Derek. Okay?" Tim waited for my approval, so I nodded.
His concern is misplaced. Only if he knew that I was the one responsible for the horror he's about to witness inside.
I hear him walk into my house and call for Derek, and when no one answered, I hear him climbing up the stairs. I wobble in place; my heart has not slowed down.
I need to get out of here for a bit. I need to think. I need to breathe.
The overwhelming sense to get out of here grips me like a vice. The night air hits me like a slap. I robotically get into my car. Somewhere, sirens begin to wail. My pulse drowns them out.
I pull out of our driveway and start driving with no particular destination in mind.
When I got onto the freeway, it swallowed me, mile after mile. Memories, thoughts, and emotions wailed and banged against my head; I floored the gas pedal. With no regard for my safety.
I drive. I scream. And the night eats every sound I make.