• im so nervous to post this holy shit •

"Have you gone soft, child?"

His deep, rough voice behind me didn't even startle me. I ignored his taunting and stared blindly at the floor.

"Have you not learned anything from me?"

I had always hated this place in our mansion. It makes me remember the dark place I once lived in. Back when I had lived in fear. Now, I live in a darker place. Where I try so hard to find something that feared me. It scared me to think I couldn't find it or will I ever? Because I am unlike people. I find those who make me shiver. After everything that has happened in my life, I long to be scared. Because I'm afraid I can no longer feel. Or maybe that was what I was afraid of.

I sighed. "Papa, Eva is looking for you."

My shadow showed no compassion in leaving me alone with him. I couldn't see a thing, couldn't hear a thing except for his domineering voice.

He hummed. "Did you tell her I asked for you to come here?"

I had smelled the smoke from his cigar. Relying on my hearing senses, I heard him walk, like a fucking devil about to devour a soul. His footsteps echo, a sign of an impending nightmare.

The damned place is not lit and always was. I didn't know whether that was a good or a bad thing back then, but now I knew why. The darkness used to scare me. That was the truth. A truth that I couldn't afford to tell anyone even to my own father. If only my mother was still alive...

I could only sigh. "You know how much she hates this place. I didn't want to ruin her night."

"Your sister can handle her own party." His voice slightly irritated. "I just want you to meet one of my business partners. I'm having trouble negotiating with him." I could feel his smirk. "I thought a little persuasion from you would help me rectify the situation, son. He's a little scared. It's rather entertaining." He laughed.

I clenched my jaw when he did that. There's that word that tickled him more than anything. Fear. The word alone disgusts my papa, said there was no such thing as fear. He said to get rid of it or he will get rid of me. I didn't understand what that meant when I was 8 years old but now that I'm 13, I learned that not being scared was the only thing that's keeping me alive. Rough childhood? That's an understatement. That's a fucking understatement.

And it was exactly the reason why this business partner is going to get killed. Even if I couldn't see him, I could hear his chair scraping against the floor, probably tied to his chair and trying to let loose.

I bit my lip but dared myself to ask. "What did he do?"

"Who are you to ask me?" He sounded amused.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "I'm curious as to why I have to deal with this when it's my sister's-"

"Birthday?" He supplied. "You sound pathetic just then, son. If only you could hear yourself." His deep voice already showing his impatience.

"Papa, Eva said-"

Cut me off, once again. "Is your sister here?"

"No, but you promised-"

"I did, didn't I?" He said, no guilt in his voice. He sighed, dramatically. "And did you honestly think a pinky swear is going to stop me?"

I cleared my throat and gritted my teeth. "I just thought you'd gave your daughter your word and for once become a father to her."

"Oh, save me from this foolishness." He said, apathetically. "Just do it and be done with it. That fool has been crying since. The sooner you get this done, the sooner I become a father to your sister. Wouldn't you like that, son?"

I sighed, "Such sweet words, Papa."

I walked to a path I have come to memorize in this basement and mindlessly grabbed one of the many guns placed here, not having the mood to be picky.

"If only you can afford to make me believe your lies."

I followed the sound of silent cries. The man cried, loudly this time. While doing so, I put the magazine in its port and unlock the trigger. The sound of the clicking echoed. He knew what was about to come.

Don't listen to his cries. You know better.

Don't pause. Don't make the same mistake twice.

Don't let him get to you. No room for mercy.

Then, he stopped. I felt his acceptance of the situation, the defeat. That no matter how many loud he screams, he begs, there was no way he could get out from this hell hole alive. I tilted my head to the side. Sir, I want you to know that death is the only way for you to be safe.

I felt my father making his way to the door, already planning to leave me to take care of the situation. The light that the light illuminated when he opened the door made me see where the man really is.

The man said something but I ignored it. Don't listen. Don't pause. Don't let him.

I stopped right behind him, pointed the gun at the back of his head and shot him.

Another one step forward to damnation.

* * *

"Have you lost your goddamn mind?"

He but only ever raised his eyes from what he's going to look at me and continued as if he expected this to happen. I was seething. The moment I found my sister crying her eyes out in her bathroom, I saw red.

He really did it. He really fucking did it...

God, I had only thought he couldn't possibly do such a thing but why do I always forget that we weren't his children anymore. That the moment his wife died, we are nothing but his fucking pawns.

"Sin, unless you have a vagina and can reproduce heirs, you can shut the fuck up."

"You fucking sold my sister like a fucking pig." I clenched my hands so hard. Crack. Don't care. "Need I remind you, father? She is your daughter."

He removed his glasses and leaned back in his throne-like chair. "She is weak. She has nothing but fear running through her blood-"

"She's human!"

"Devianos are known for not being scared of anything; things that can not be seen, can not be heard and can not be felt. We fear no one, no thing, no god." How he could speak so calmly, I don't know.

Silence.

I bit my lip, not willing myself to shed a tear. Even if for once, I wanted to show my father that I am scared. I am scared for my sister. She is the only family I have. The only girl left that keeps me sane in this place, in this place my mother used to call home. She is the only girl left for me to protect, to care, to love... Something that I knew my father sees as my weakness.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I stare blankly at the table. "She is my sister." A tear fell.

He sighed. "Do you honestly think that she will survive in this family?"

I chuckled humourlessly. "We have long accepted the fact that this is not a family anymore." I looked at him in the dead in the eyes. "We are nothing to you."

He smirked. "Then, why the hell are you crying?" His eyes daring, mocking, challenging. "When you knew in the first place that you meant nothing to me."

Another tear. I grasped the gun in my hand and aimed it at him. "You shouldn't taunt someone with a gun."

"You mean, someone who knows how to shoot a gun?" He tilted his head. "I see no one here capable of doing that." His eyes scanned me. "Look at yourself, son. You're hurting. You're at your most vulnerable state and when threatened, tends to do something irrational. You're blinded by a strong emotion called love. Pathetic. You're at your weakest point. If someone finds out about your Achilles heel, you're dead. And you tell me that you wanted me to let your sister stay when she is nothing but your soft spot." I was breathing hard. "Would you rather I kill her? So we can all move past this and be done with it." He shrugged.

My heart is already tortured enough. What else can he do to make me feel pain worse than this?

"Take me instead."

"You're of great value to me. You have potential. I've been training, teaching, nurturing you since you were old enough to run. Now that you're 17, you think I'd let all my efforts go to waste?"

I smirked. He had answers to every question. Why did I even try? "I'm guessing you need me alive to do all your plans for me." I pointed the gun at my head.

He stared blankly at me. He pushed a button on his chair and leaned over his table. Both of his hands linked together, waiting. I frowned. I aimed my gun better in my temple, holding my gun tight. Dare he try to make a move, I will shoot myself. I'd rather...

"Sin!" My sister's frantic voice made me turn my head and the second I did that, a shot was heard. Bang. And then another, Bang, I felt a past bearing pain in my left pec. I weakly touch the liquid that's starting to drench my suit. Blood continuously oozed out of it, making me lightheaded. I dropped to my knees and fell sideways.

I saw my sister gasping, she was shot right in the throat. I tried reaching out to her. I gasped for air, I cried for help. Someone help my sister... I beg.

I saw my father walking in between us. My sister turned her head to look at me. She smiled. She mouthed something to me, her last word. Before my father aimed his gun at her and shot her right in the heart. I closed my eyes. My sister's words hung lastly on my mind: Live.

* * *

"What do you want for your birthday, Eva?"

Today is her 21st birthday and she refused to plan a party. She smiled. Her smiles always give me a light. A light that I hold on to because my life depended on it. She was a spitting image of our mother and I love her dearly.

"I want to go the Sunflower Conservatory in San Francisco."

I bit my lip, not willing myself to tell her she couldn't. Because she knows.

She smiled again. This time, less bright than before. I hate upsetting her but it was for her own safety. Not that the security isn't reliable in fact no one would dare try and harm us but my father wouldn't let us go where we want to simply because it's "foolish and a waste of time". We "are not here to have some fun", we "are here to take orders".

"I want to see the sunflowers grow, little brother. I want to see them live."

"How about I buy you hundreds of it? Will that make you happy? You can stay here all you want, water them, see them grow-"

"Watch them die." She added. She laughed, "This might sound a little harsh but... it'd be refreshing, I think, to see something wither other than someone who draws one's last breath."

She looked at me and stared. Her dress was white making her look pristine, her hair was down and she had nothing on her face. My sister looked like an angel. My guardian angel. She patted her bed, motioning me to sit next to her. She grabbed my hand and held onto it.

"Sin, you're my sunflower." She caressed my face.

"I had stayed with you but I can't be here with you forever and you know that. I want to ask for your forgiveness that for once, I had blamed our mother for putting us through all of this, for leaving us to suffer, for doing the easiest way out, for taking her own life." She cupped my face. "I see you grow every day. You were watered with darkness but you remain pure to me. I long to see you live, little brother. I prayed each night, wished each morning that you will not fade and that you will continue to grow."

A tear fell from her eyes. "We are planted in a complicated, almost critical, place. This isn't the life I wanted for you. But remember this, when I slowly dry, you will stay. And when I slowly wither, you will cry but you will live. I promise you, you will live."

"Eva-"

"I will always protect you."

"You're scaring me."

"It's okay to be scared. But you have to be brave."

"How?" Because I'm scared, I've never stopped being scared. I just don't show it...

"Do what you always do. You will only grow if you help yourself and stay alive." She kissed my cheek. "And I'll also do whatever it takes to keep you going, to make my wish for you happen. Now, you ask me how are you going to live?"

"How?"

She smiled. "Love."

But I lost hope of ever living again because of that day. That day I died beside my sister. And I don't think I will ever live again. I don't think I could. I don't think I should.