I have nothing left now...(Chapter 3)

I opened my eyes with a gasp, sitting up rapidly and scrambling away from the thin covers across my body. The silken drag alerted me to glance then and then gape openly at the scene in front of me. I was dead in my bed, the dress I wore even today was hiked to my thighs and laying around me. The dress was heavy with sweat, my stockings clinging to my skin like damp weights. The look on my face was horrifying, the whites of my eyes exposed and my mouth opened as if wish for one more gasp of air.

I heard a cry out in pain and my mother darted into the room, frantically shaking my shoulders. “Aria? Aria baby please wake up!!”She cried out over and over as if the agony was eating away her soul. My eyes, seemingly void of all emotion, watched her fall to the ground and grip her head in sorrow. I could see the questions in her tears, one of which was who had put such bruises on her daughter’s pretty throat? I glanced up when my father wandered in at the sound of my mother’s cries.

“Maria? What is….oh my god! Aria!? Aria!!!” he had cried out himself and I watched my father, the strongest person I had ever seen, fell to his knees and let out heart-wrenching tears at the sight of me strangled in our own house. Was that supposed to happen? Was it justice to be terrified then killed in a place always called ‘safe’? I simply watched my parents cry, feet apart and yet in the same sorrowful place, and then I heard footsteps enter my room. To those who live they would be silent but I knew as a ghost they were loud as possible. I stared openly at my brother, smirking down at my parents before being able to compose a face that was fine with emotions but also had a hint of deceit to it. I glared in surprise, letting my eyes get wide and feeling completely dumbfounded. How did no-one realize his false worry? His sadness that had no feel and no tears or see the smile in his brown eyes…it was disgusting. Still, he walked forward and as if he could feel me, shivered and faked tears that I noticed didn’t fall down his strong-boned cheeks.

“Mother? Father? Is Aria ok…I don’t understand.” He said with wide eyes, letting his lower lip stick out and tremble. He was only 10…and yet somehow he had strangled me in my bed and then played my parents like a prodigy on a violin. I watched in wonder, as he strode forward and collapsed beside my parents and the bed. The way he leaned forward, I thought he was going to jump up and cry out in delight, and the bastard had the nerve to put his hands on me one more time…

I let out a scream of pure rage and bolted forward, lurching myself at him and so ready to strangle that perfect and tan throat. Still, my hands went right through as I was more of a ghost here than anyone where else. Then the time sped up, and I watched my parents lay a white sheet over my head, and my brother walk out, stared in wonder as my parents visited in their mourning clothes even after my body had been removed. Then the time went back to normal, and I stared at the empty room I was in. I listened to a crash, and looked up as I ran forward.

The most disturbing choking sound was all too familiar to me, and I raced forward. I let out an uncomfortable cry at the sound of my mother crashing around as my brother strangled her. He was clearly much older, maybe 15 now. I watched his hands lock around her neck as he was already much taller than her. I cried out in pain, wishing so badly that I could hit him and wrap my own fingers around his neck. I wanted to obliterate him. Still, my mother was falling down in front of him with her hands clutching his wrist. She was making no noise, except when he teasingly relaxed and she’d make the most terrible noises of agony. I screamed again, watching her eyes roll back like I knew mine had done when Alex had strangled me. Still, my mother was wide awake and putting up quite a fight as she scratched him and turned to the room into a war zone.

Still, there was no way she’d but up a fight against my brother. His size was dwarfing her, his muscles huge and not even rolling with effort. I watched her slowly go limp in his hands and watched him hold her for a few more minutes. When his hands had pulled away, I could see the bruises over lapping one another. I shook with sobs, curled over myself and not paying attention as my brother cleaned up the room. I cried out in sorrow, and let myself fall prey to the agony in my heart…

“Oh Aria!? Aria!! I know you’re in here you weak bitch, so listen close and listen hard to me. I know exactly what you are because I can feel you and I have ever since the week after I killed you. I think you should hear this well. I know you’re going to be watching me ill the day I die and I don’t think I’ll die an old coot. I want to be killed, I wonder what it’s like that my victims go through.” He said, and I stared in wonder. He was so insane it was making me feel ill.

The problem was the room was clean now and the only evidence of his betrayal was the hand marks on her neck. I watched in my own heart-break, heard him exit the room and wondered how my father would die. I hoped it was not at the hand of such a monster. Still, I knew I was about to see my father’s death at the hands of some demon. I walked toward the kitchen, staring at my father with his head in his hands, his elbows on the counter. The position was what made me curious, and I drifted forward as I let one hand rest on his shoulder. “Papa…”I murmured, tears welling in my brown eyes.

I was surprised when he whirled around, his blood-shot eyes looking around frantically. “Aria!? Aria is that you baby?” he asked, but when there was no answer I watched him sink down to the floor and let out a shaking sob. I stared in surprise, knowing he had completely fallen apart. I bent down, caressing his cheek softly.

“I’m here papa…”I said again, but this time I had meant to talk and he did not hear me. I looked up at the sound of footsteps and glared at Alex, my eyes blazing with fire. The waves of power rolling off him were almost visible, or at least they were like that to me. My eyes followed each step toward our father and as soon as he was in touching distance my father glanced up. “Alexander?” he asked, blinking slowly before looking back at his hands.

I placed my fingers on his, squeezing desperately as to make him understand the danger of this situation. Still, he only shivered before rising to his feet. Alex smiled, and then let it go quickly and made a look of astounding sorrow. A snarl lifted from my thin and bruised throat as he took a deep breath, which was something he had stolen from me. Alex’s footsteps went forward easily and I watched his hands brush one of the knives on the counter.

I screamed, loud and long and completely in their world. My father looked up, his eyes wide and Alex’s feral grin graced his awful mouth. I watched him embed the blade into my father’s shoulder, twist it harshly and then rip it out and kick him to the ground. My father lifted his one hand, the one clearly twisting in pain, to strike my brother across the face but Alex quickly caught his hand and twisted it till he heard quite a few snapping sounds. My fathers red face and guttural sounds of agony were torture.

My hands lurched for Alex and I frantically yanked on his arm, but he simply laughed and turned toward me. “I may not be able to see you but I heard that! I bet you hate seeing daddy in torture correct? Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to stick around. There is plenty more to come.” His voice was taunting and another snarl rose from me. I raced out, going to find the dog. I heard my father screaming from inside and I frantically looked around for cats or the horses but there were none. However, soon I found Granger, our old blood hound. The dog wagged his tail at me, and I pulled him toward the house.

“Sick him, Granger!” I yelled, pointing at Alex who was strangling my father now. The dog lurched forward, snarls ripping loose from him before his wide and very capable jaw latched onto Alex’s arm. Alex, looking over, snarled back and stood to shake Grange off. I watched in torture as Alex pried off his jaw and then hit him so hard his jaw broke. I cried in pain as he kicked the dog across the room and then quickly stamped his boot on Grange’s neck…and the pain in his eyes was instantly cut off. I grabbed a knife, struggling to hold it up and launch it at Alex. He stared at the floating knife, his lips twisting up in glee. “Oh sister! Look at that power you have!!” he called mockingly and taking his own knife.

I stared at he approached my father, and then drove the long butchers knife deep into his chest. My father was spewing blood, and Alex was covered in it. The walls were sprayed with gore and the bruises around my father’s throat were also blossoming down his body where my brother had tortured him. I let my tears run down my face as Alex washed his hand and stripped down to his long johns in the middle of the kitchen. I looked away, closing my eyes in pain.

Alex killed me, and then my mother but our deaths weren’t as torturous as my fathers. It had been hours since the first stabbing and I couldn’t believe the rage Alex had expressed at our father. It hurt… and I would trade my father’s death for mine if I could. No one deserved to go through such torture except my brother…but my father had no reason to suffer. Still, his was over and he was gone…

Why was I still here?