Sometimes I wonder about the scream that ripped through my porcelain painted house that night. How it curled itself around the doorways and watered down hallways to form the blood clots that traveled to father’s heart and left an attack to great to overcome.
"Would mother have released such a sound had she known the consequences of her actions?"
Doubtfully it’s her fault that Leo found life too complex to maneuver around, but mother was a mute and nothing of too great of an importance ever made its way out of her mouth.
"Had she seen her sins reflected in her older son’s pale and lifeless skin? Is that why she finally felt the need to utter something substantial to the world?"
Then it’s okay to say that she ultimately began to feel something for the dead body that lay strewn across the bathroom floor. That she just realized what could happen to her in time and selfish thoughts grabbed hold of her imagination and grew till it was too large to maintain and out came the manifestation of it in all its glory. Filling up the tiny crevices that had started to creep through our home. The cracks opened up bit by bit and made the division through the house a bit easier to see. Another hole punctured into the muddle of emotions we called family. Mother’s scream was the straw that should have broken the camel’s back, but this camel faltered on, carrying barrels and barrels of burdens.
Funny thing is, the heart did not open up its flood gates and let out all it’s dark secrets as it should have. They stayed holed up in our hallowed chambers created for every member of our ever escaping family from the day they stepped foot on this unforgiving earth. No, lost to pretense as we were, it was just another thing to cover up. False bearings were the only foundations we knew and Leo’s bones were packed into the dirt tightly to keep this broken house supported.
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