~Cuffs and Hysteria~

Carlos snapped at Dolores. "She killed my mother. She killed the only friend I had."
His voice reduced until it was nothing but a strangled whisper. What felt like self pity for the situation he was in quickly morphed into anger. A rage he had never felt coursed through him, fueling him.

All of a sudden, he threw a hard kick to the desk, cursed aloud and struggled feverishly to break out of the handcuffs while his head continuously slammed against the hard plastic representing the wall. Warm liquid trailed into his palms and down to the tips of his fingers. He was too feverish with anger to pay any heed to any of that.

"Look, he's bleeding. He's going to slit his wrist open." Someone yelled in panic.

"Sit down, Carlos!" The command registered in his brain instantly. Instinctively, Carlos found himself obeying those three worded commands.

Mr. Alejandro who hadn't said a word since the whole questioning began, now studied his son with renewed interest like he was a spectacle to be watched. The look of interest was not the one Carlos had always longed for but that of one studying a fascinating object.

Again, anger spiked through Carlos and his body trembled but against his will, Dylan already had him restricted to a chair. Seeing his inability to charge at his father, he eyed the man with repelling disgust. "You have no right to tell me what to do."

His tone was packed with so much hate.

"Shut up! We're talking about you now. You killed a woman five years ago all for what? How could you?" To the observers in the office, the man was filled with concern for his son but Carlos was well familiar with that act, hence his false reproach didn't faze him.

"Why did you do what you did, Carlos?" Dylan questioned more firmly this time.

"She was killed by her mother. I couldn't just sit and watch her go unpunished. As a matter of fact, reporting to the police would have been a waste of time because nothing would have been done eventually." He defended with renewed stubbornness, his good eye squinted in anger while the other could only open in a slit.

Dylan didn't seem deterred by the mental wall the young boy had placed to stop him from prying further. If anything, he went ahead to invade his personal space by stepping closer to him. "How did her mom kill yours?"

Carlos forced his eyes shut, features crumbling as he recalled the events that preceded her death. "They had a fight."

"Who? Her mom and--"

"No." He cut in. "My parents. They always had a fight if something didn't sit too well with him." He paused and after a moment of heaving, he continued, "My mom was rushed to the hospital following the crack she had in her skull. My dad later told me that the doctor wouldn't do anything to save her."

"No!" Dolores cried, rushing forward from her seat only to be held back by Damian. "That's not true. My mom said there was nothing she could do to save your mother because she was brought in late. I might have been thirteen but I very well understood the nature of her job. She told me that she died holding your hand in a death grip while on the ride to the hospital. There is no way my mom would kill yours."

He shook his head in disbelief. "No! Your mom did--"

"She was already pronounced dead before she got to the hospital, you spiteful son of a bitch." Damian fired from where he sat listening to the teenagers argue back and forth. Dolores had by now curled herself up into his side for comfort.

Carlos found himself at loss for words. He needed some diversion for all of the rage he felt before he crumbled like the walls of jericho. The truth that Dolores spilled sounded very plausible to the grown up part of him but the other half that had believed in the lies for the longest time refused to take the words for what they were. That stunted part of him was still traumatized, young and yielded to vulnerability. His mom's death was as though his life anchor was snatched out of his grip. The first set of tears slipped down his closed eyes. When he pulled them open, they were bloodshot and directed to his father.

"That means you killed her." His voice had an eerie silence to it. Like the calm before the storm.

The other officers couldn't contain their shock. "What do you mean by that?" One of them asked.

His good eye stared emotionlessly at the man he used to call dad. "They fought. They get into a fight everytime my dad... He begins to act up. That night, they had a very big fight." He sniffled back the tears threatening to drown his voice.

"In the past whenever she got injured so badly, he'd treat her at home with his private doctor. With gentle hands he'd hold her until she healed before once more resuming his beastly attitude. Only difference was that this time, I had a strong inkling that she wasn't going to make it back to me." He lolled his head forward as tears gushed out his eyes in streams. "He bashed her head against her marble dressing table. I watched her scream and drop to the floor unconsciously."

Memories of his mother laying cold and unconscious in a pool of her blood flashed unbidden in his head.

"You both are sick in the head. A family of murderers." Dolores yelled, tears streaming out anew. The newfound news pulled off the scab of her healing injury and scrapped it against the hard ground. Her heart was bleeding but her mom was no longer in sight to hug her and tell her everything would be alright.

Carlos swung his head towards Nicolas just then and added in a voice that startled everyone else, "You better save your mom while you still can else you'll end up like me. Bitter, resentful and ignorant."

A loud laughter suddenly rang out from amidst the commotion happening in the room. Everyone's attention was dragged towards the man with topnotch designers suit. His head was thrown back in a careless cackle. When he stopped his wild laughter long enough to stare at them, his eyes had gone cold and feral. He looked mentally deranged.

"Your mother was a stupid bitch. We were fine with each other and vowed not to have kids but enjoy our wealth, just us two, exploring round the world and loving each other. I warned her against getting pregnant but she went ahead and got pregnant with you." He sneered hard at Carlos. "We would have been the perfect power couple until you came along. I took one look at your miserable face as you sobbed and I knew you would take away all of her attention from me. I knew she would want to have more kids. I detest the very sight of you."

"Why then did you make me believe that it was the doctor who killed mom? Why did you lie it was her mom who did it? Is that why you made me to through those automobile engineering classes instead of letting me mourn my mother and focus on things that mattered?" Carlos snapped, trying once more to lunge at the man.

Brushing off invisible specks of dust from the lapel of his suit despite the thick tension that was thrown over them like layers of blankets, the man nodded calmly. "Yes."

The chair Carlos was strapped to rattled as he struggled to break free of his restrictions. "I killed someone who didn't even deserve it because of you. You' deserve to burn in hell and I'll take you there myself." He roared again.

The man threw his head back and cackled with the his beady eyes focused on his raging son. "I needed a way to end you. I didn't want a son and I couldn't give you up for adoption because of your mother. So I turned you into this. It's what you are and will ever be; a murderer. You killed your mom and hers."

"No, I didn't. It was all your fault." Once more, he felt like a helpless fourteen year old realizing how alone he was in the world. His entire facade crumbled down like a sandcastle knocked down by the pressure of the waves. Flashbacks of the times he spent trying to please his insufferable father came into view and he cursed himself for it. Weakness like never before overwhelmed him, shame from realizing the newly added status on his real life profile. He was a murderer.

"You're under arrest, Mr Alejandro, for the murder of your wife and Mrs Huerta." Dylan ordered the officers to have the man cuffed.

Before anyone realized it, the addressed grabbed a pistol which was tucked in the belt of one of the officers. With the gun pointed at Carlos, he pulled the trigger. More officers poured into the small office at the loud sound of the gun going off. Unluckily for Mr Alejandro, he was shoved to the ground with a rough push. The deranged man was brought under control and a pair of handcuffs closed around his wrists, pinning him down.

Dolores let out a loud scream when she saw blood spilling out of Carlos without stopping. With a swiftness she didn't know she possessed, she swung into action loosening her scarf and applying pressure to the injury to reduce the blood spill. Luckily for Carlos, instead of his chest as aimed, there was a bullet tearing through the flesh of his shoulder.

Without warning and in the full glare of everyone, Carlos' panic attacks slowly crept up on him, seizing him in full measures. Teeth clenching and eyes lolling back repeatedly, his body shook. The blood seemed to spill a lot faster following the tensing of his muscles.

"What's happening to him?" Dolores asked in alarm, fearful for him.

"It's a full blown panic attack. Somebody quick, take him to the hospital." Nicolas yelled with urgency in his voice.

One of the cops quickly had the handcuffs unlocked from Carlos' wrists before he hurt himself further. One other officer joined him and they managed to lift the injured teenager up and out of the congested room.

As Dolores watched them go, she trembled with so much fear from the scene that played  out before her. A hand reeled her close to a familiar body for a comforting hug. It was her father. She wrapped her own arms around him, shuddering lightly as she tightened her grip on him.

It would take a long time before she finally healed from this truth.

~~~{•}~~~

Sigh
This is a pretty rushed up chapter.
What are your thoughts on this?

Leave a vote if this was your best chapter yet
~~Chignature~~