I guess there’s only one way to find out.
4
CREIGHTON
There’s no such thing as being too young to remember.
I was three years old when my life was turned upside down. Blood splattered, monsters’ fangs showed, and I was caught between them, having the sole destiny to be crushed to death.
I was three years old, and I still remember every vicious word, every hateful stare and can still hear the gurgle of life leaving a body. I still have nightmares about a body hanging from the ceiling and looking at me with unblinking, bulging eyes.
I haven’t been the same since.
Yes, I was adopted by a loving yet unconventional family and have the best parents alive, but that never managed to make me forget the past.
Thing is, some images just can’t be erased.
Some images bleed into my subconscious and devour me from the inside out. Every night.
Every day.
Every second.
It’s not just a distant memory; it’s part of who I am.
I’ve ignored it all my life, tried to cope with it, to come to terms with the past, and to blend myself into my current life.
I’ve truly tried. My honest attempts have included doing everything by the book, following the therapist's coping mechanisms, and learning to lead a normal life.
But I’m not normal.
And coping is never enough. And neither is convincing myself that time will make it better.
Seventeen years later and the images are still as vivid as back then, with their gruesome details and those bulging fucking eyes.
I learned to stop asking my parents about the past—not only do they avoid the subject like the plague, but Mum also gets this sad look in her eyes. The one where it feels as if I’m ripping her chest open and punching her fragile heart.
Luckily, I’m old enough now to pull the strings on my own.
Even if it means abandoning everything I’ve known for the seventeen years since the massacre.
That’s what I’ve always called it in my head, even though only two people died. Make that three—including the three-year-old version of me.
He suffered the most, despite the fact that death chose to exempt him.
The time has come to finally do something about those hideous memories.
In the past, I couldn’t be proactive due to living under my parents’ roof and being under their constant scrutiny.
However, I’m at university now and I have enough freedom to seek the truth. The only barrier is the personification of my parents’ hawk eyes—my annoying older brother, Eli.
As circumstances would have it, I know exactly the information to feed him so he’ll remain preoccupied and leave me the fuck alone.
Because something changed recently.
I got a piece of information that flipped my perspective upside down.
It’s not anything groundbreaking, but it’s the tip of the iceberg—a little clue that will allow me to dig deeper.