Sunday Night

It's late on a Sunday. Her blood flows from her dying body on to the kitchen floor like water from a faucet. He stands there frozen, unsure of what to do as his little sister bleeds from the knife wound in her chest. The knife falls as if in slow motion from his hands to the floor, creating a loud thud as it makes contact with the ground between his shaking legs and her limp arm.

Her eyes are still open as she is breathing through the pain, moaning to her brother for help. She knows she is about to die, but part of her clings to the chance of staying alive. With each deep breath she takes, more and more blood begins to slip through the gash created by the knife that lies close to her hand. While she tries her hardest to remain alive for as long as possible, her brother just stands there, lifeless, in the same position he was in when he ran the weapon through her skin. There is no sign on his face that he is in the slightest bit aware of what he has just done. It was almost as if he was completely taken over by an unknown force which has now left him an empty shell.

The world around her seems to fade slowly into nothingness as she gives in to the pain and allows it to override her body. As she takes her last breath, she finally closes her eyes, waiting for death to take over. Once her eyes close for the final time, something snaps inside her brother. For the first time he takes in everything around him and collapses to the ground beside the young girl whose life he had brutally cut short. He cries, curses, and yells in anger at himself. He strokes her hair and face as if trying to soothe a child, but there is no one left in the body to soothe; she is long gone, leaving behind her dead body with her murderer. The knife lays beside the young man’s legs. He wraps himself around his sister, lifting her body off of the ground high enough to cradle her in his arms as he would have been able to do once upon a time. He wants nothing more than to be able to turn back time, to have her alive again; but that is not a possibility. She is dead. Because of him.

He picks her up and carries her towards the stairs, painfully aware of how limp and lifeless her body has become. He leaves the kitchen as if on a mission, ignoring anything that does not concern his younger sister. Instead of walking around them, he merely steps over the dead bodies of his parents and proceeds to the staircase, trying his hardest to keep the child in his arms protected and safe from sharp corners in the house. Part of him begins to forget that she has in fact died and envisions her as simply sleeping peacefully as he carries her to her bedroom. To him, the blood has all gone and her chest is now rising and falling with each breath she is taking in a deep sleep, dreaming of whatever eight-year-old children dream of. The world around him clears and the house seems to rid itself of all that was bad; the smashed photos, empty bottles, overturned tables, and splashes of blood. It was all gone. All that is left is himself, holding his baby sister to take her to bed after a long day that has left her exhausted.

Her room is untouched by the chaos that occurred downstairs. It’s a very typical girly-girl room filled with fairy lights, fluffy things, teddies, dolls, and pretty much anything pink or purple. Her bed with a bright pink duvet cover is full of teddies and other toys that leaves only a small space of her to sleep, allowing her to stay snuggled up with everything she loves. He places the young girl in the small gap on her bed and drapes a fluffy blanket over her small body, stroking her head as he sings lightly to her to help her sleep the night away. Before leaving her room, he makes sure to turn on some of her fairy lights so she doesn’t have to sleep in total darkness, closing her door behind him as he leaves her all alone.

Once he left the young girl snuggled up in her bed, he makes his way downstairs to his mother and father, still left unconscious on the floor in a pool of their blood and smashed glass. Rather than going to their bodies, he simply yells a goodnight at them before waddling up to his own room and climbing into bed, ready for a long sleep.