- Books, Literature, and Writing»
- Commercial & Creative Writing»
- Creative Writing
Unnoticed: Part IV
I directed my eyes to the location of the once shut door. I could hear tracking. There was the sound of shoes walking into the room where my torturer and I were stationed. Then, with a cigarette in his hand was Daniel. My little brother Daniel. He was wearing a nice business suit and also had on leather gloves. He looked nice and clean. His hair was smoothed forward with little spiked bangs. He took a hit of the cigarette and exhaled the excess smoke.
“Well, don’t you look beautiful my sweet sister," he opened with sarcastically.
I think I cried my tears to extinction since nothing left was coming out of my eyes. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. All I could think about was my baby brother had gone mad. I blamed myself for this. I shouldn’t have stopped talking to him three years ago. Is this all my fault?
“What? Are you at a loss for words?” My body shivered. I was full of chills. There was also the constant pounding pain where the bugs had tried to escape on the slashed section of my chest. “Come on. Tell me something. I know you want to curse at me. Scream at me maybe? Or how about asking, ‘How could you do this Daniel?’ Come on. Talk to your brother Francine.”
I was quivering so much that when I started to speak my mouth actually mumbled. “Wha... Why… Mmm…” I couldn’t spit out a straight forward question or statement.
Daniel threw the remains of his cigarette to the side and stood behind me. He started to massage my shoulders. “I know there is a lot for you to grasp right now but your time is coming to an end. So relax, start breathing, and talk to me one final time.”
I’m done. I was at a loss for words. I say the only thing I can think of. I kept repeating it in my head. “I’m sorry.”
There was a moment of silence. For a split second I swear I heard a sniffle come out of my brother. But that was quickly drawn out.
“Okay. Before we finish you off, I must make a confession,” Daniel said. He began to walk back and fourth in between the table and me.
Another confession? What more could be possibly confess? I thought.
“Those policemen, detectives, investigators-all those people you spoke to- they were lying to you.” This had to be a fib. There was no way the officers I spoke with (whom I’ve know practically my whole life) would accept that my parents were dead and then not do anything about it. “I paid them off.”
“What?” I asked.
“Yeah. I paid them all off. I paid them to not let you know anything about our parents." He patted my head like a dog. "So pretty much I paid them to keep their mouth shut.”
“So, they know you paid someone to kill our parents?”
He smiled a happy smile at me. “Yeah, something like that.” I know there was something he wasn't telling me. It was all too weird.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I demanded an answer. I had the right to know.
“You doubt me?” he asked. He crossed his arms and looked at me stern.
I do doubt him. There is more to the story then he is letting on. But what?
“Yes. I do.” I forced myself to look strong and assured even though I knew nothing was going to help me out.
“That’s a shame.” He uncrossed his arms and looked inside the pillow case. What more could possibly be in there? A knife? A gun? A club? No. He pulled out a can of gasoline.
“What are you going to do huh?” Sound bold girl. “Light me on fire? Kill me like you killed our parents? Will that make everything better for you Daniel huh? Will it?”
“No,” he responded.
“No what?” He was ignoring me. “I blame myself for why you’re acting this way but I do not understand why you had to through great lengths to get revenge on me.” I was being honest. I was still blaming myself (much more than he knows) for his actions.
“Just shut up Francine!” He yelled so loud it could’ve scared the soul right out of my body. Then I would already be dead. “You know, I’ve tried to do so much to impress my parents; not only them but you as well. Not once… Once did you, mom, or dad even tell me “good job” or “keep up the good work.” Nope. I got nothing.” He reached in his pocket and lit up another cigarette and walked to the far end of the table. Meanwhile, the tormentor grabbed the can of gasoline and started wetting me with it. He also poured some out onto the floor. “I would’ve taken care of you. I would’ve taken care of all of you but now, I’m glad I don’t have to look out for any one of you. All I need is me and my money.”
“I hope you burn in hell for this,” I said angrily.
“Funny you should say that.” Daniel looked at the other man and they both nodded at one another. They both headed towards the door. “Because for now you will burn.” He took one final hit of his cigarette. “Goodbye Francine.”
Mr. Anonymous looked at me and smiled. Suddenly, it hit me. I know who he is. After everything I’ve been through tonight, I now believe it is him.
“Wait!” I screamed. “Daniel!” He threw his cigarette while the other guy started to close the door. “Ro... Ahhh!" The door was now shut and I spent the last minutes of my life in a huge fire; burning to death. “Argh!” I screamed over and over again. “Daniel! Oh my god! Oh my…” I coughed. The fire was on my legs. It trailed up to my arms and then spread all over my face.
How could Daniel do this to me? To our family? Life flashed before my eyes. I thought of my daddy, my mommy, and my baby brother. I remembered great friends, ex boyfriends, and even enemies. I quickly remembered past birthdays, scrapes rewarded by the playground up our old neighborhood. Past Christmases, favorite pets, and smores Daniel and I would make by a camp fire on family trips. But now it's all gone. No more family. No more parents. No more... me.
I let out one final and long scream. “I’m sorry. Ahhh!” I'm sorry.