(no subject)
Surgery was painful. Is painful. When I've managed to take enough painkillers to ignore the surgery-specific pain, my intestines feel painfully too large for my torso because heaven forbid I only have one problem at a time.
What's an extremely pained girl to do at 4:30 in the morning? Use it to write scenes that are just as painful, if not moreso. Trigger warning for being murdered by your sibling while your beloved nephew watches on! Much tears.
The sofa had never been comfortable, but even that was not so hard as whatever Terry was lying on right now. A gentle breeze on the bare skin of his face and forearms suggested the impossible, and pushing his eyelids open seemed to confirm it - was he outside?
For all that the air was fresh and cool though, he felt as though a fever was raging through his body, sweat trickling and tickling its way down towards the pavement beneath him. How had this happened? No, more importantly, where was Tom?
"Awake now, are you?" The sound of Kimmy's mocking drawl was not a welcome addition to the pounding in his head.
Terry tried to lift his head to look towards the sound, but pain seared through his neck, sparking a very recent memory - "Did you bite me?"
"Ugh, believe me, there are probably homeless people whose skin I would rather have sunk my teeth into."
Did that mean...? "What did you do to me?"
"I introduced you to the world of the forever undying. Fortunately for everyone, not for very long."
That was why he was outside. She was stood within the massive barred gate in front of the door - it would be locked. She was going to kill him with daylight. A faint part of him was outraged. "What did I ever do to you that you would kill your own brother...?"
Her voice was almost poisonous. "You think you can get away with stealing my only child? Just because you're so fat and ugly nobody would ever give you one of your own? I went through nine months with that ungrateful brat, to have him like you more. It's wrong, you brainwashed him or something, and you'll pay for it."
Somewhere deep down, a little bit of Terry felt absurdly sorry for his sister; she clearly understood so little about anybody but herself, that she had never stood a chance. Her insults and inaccuracies were meaningless, it was only Tom he cared for now. "It's not his fault. He's just a kid, a good kid, don't hurt him."
"I don't need to, everything will be fine once you're gone and he's regained his senses."
Only if she managed to brainwash him into forgetting how she and Christian abused and murdered Terry. Terry wasn't sure Tom had the temperament to even pretend to forget about that. Or about being neglected for ten years after Kimmy's much vaunted nine months of pregnancy.
He was too weak to lift himself to argue, just watching the sky turn increasingly pretty and bright shades in the sunrise which had not yet reached him. It would be a beautiful, clear day that would kill him. He briefly wondered if the rest of the family would find out - Kimmy rarely volunteered to get in trouble with their parents at least. "I'm sorry Kimmy. I never brainwashed Tom, but I didn't understand how hard it must be being you."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Do you ever feel sympathy or empathy?"
"For you?" she snorted ludicrously.
"For anyone."
"Why should I?"
"Most of us don't have a choice."
"And you feel sorry for me? How I don't have to think or care what's going on in other people's idiot heads? The idiocy is probably contagious. I hope you haven't ruined my son with it."
"It's why you don't get what you want, you don't understand other people."
Kimmy laughed. "I don't get what I want? Large, posh house? Check. Husband who adores me? Check. Annoying little brother dead? Oh, give it a few more minutes."
"Son who loves you?"
"Give it a few weeks, sooner if he's smart."
I don't think it'll ever happen, he thought but didn't say for Tom's safety. Tom wasn't gullible and Kimmy wasn't a good actor - he would at least suspect, and he would never love her after this. At least not without genuine remorse, which Kimmy didn't seem to have felt once in her life. Tom was like an object, a trophy, to her. He needed better, safety and security.
One last try. "You never wanted or liked kids, I only helped because you didn't want to raise him - please, just send him to our parents. They'll love and raise him for you, you won't have to lift a finger, and you know Dad will sing your praises better than anyone."
She snorted again. "Like I'm going to listen to you. It's getting a bit too bright for me out here now anyway." He heard her turn away. "Go to hell, little brother." And then the door shut.
Terry closed his eyes and tried not to focus on the pain. Then he heard the door open again - Kimmy probably thought of a better put-down-
"Uncle Terry!"
Terry's head snapped painfully towards the sound of Tom's voice. Oh no. "Tom..."
"You have to find shade! There's got to be some - there's woods I can see from my window, you have to go!"
Terry used his strangely grey arms to push himself to a sitting position and felt the world swim in front of him. "I can't Tom, there's not enough time." He barely swallowed the rising bile from where his stomach roiled.
"No, you can, you have to...!"
"I can't stand, can't walk like this. She knew..." Murdered by his own sister...
There were tears in Tom's eyes when Terry's vision was clear enough, but there was fury there as well. "She's murdering you!"
Terry painfully dragged himself back towards the gate. "Tom, Tom, you can't talk like that. Please, for me, for the rest of our family out there - you have to keep yourself safe. She wants you to love her-"
"She can burn in hell," he growled in earnest rage, the most like his parents Terry had ever seen him.
He rested his thumping head against a cool bar. "You don't have to love her, but keep yourself safe, please. Pretend, live your life, and one day when you're older you can escape far away and do what you want."
"I want you."
"I won't leave you, not really. The people who love us always watch over us after they die. I'll be with you, whatever happens and wherever you go. They just won't be able to hurt me anymore."
The tears rolled. "And what if I don't want them to hurt me anymore?"
Terry's mouth fell open. There was a child too smart for his own good. He swallowed. "You'll be stronger than me, Tom. Smarter too. Braver..."
Suddenly the sunlight broke over the hill and felt like a sword sliding painfully through his skin - he tried and didn't quite succeed at not screaming; please don't let them see him talking to me.
"Terry, Terry, run!"
He said run, but Terry lost a few moments and found himself fully on the ground again, writhing in pain, the sweat sizzling on his skin as he seemed to cook inside and out. Tom's eyes were wide, fixed on his face, tears rolling faster. "Don't watch- AHHHH, Tom don't watch-"
"Terry...!"
He couldn't stay conscious much longer - his hand and arm had literally caught fire. "I love you Tom," he babbled as quickly as he could. "I love you, I'm so proud, be brave, survive for my sake, you'll be so good, better than I ever was, you're perfect, AHHHHHH, I love you-
What's an extremely pained girl to do at 4:30 in the morning? Use it to write scenes that are just as painful, if not moreso. Trigger warning for being murdered by your sibling while your beloved nephew watches on! Much tears.
The sofa had never been comfortable, but even that was not so hard as whatever Terry was lying on right now. A gentle breeze on the bare skin of his face and forearms suggested the impossible, and pushing his eyelids open seemed to confirm it - was he outside?
For all that the air was fresh and cool though, he felt as though a fever was raging through his body, sweat trickling and tickling its way down towards the pavement beneath him. How had this happened? No, more importantly, where was Tom?
"Awake now, are you?" The sound of Kimmy's mocking drawl was not a welcome addition to the pounding in his head.
Terry tried to lift his head to look towards the sound, but pain seared through his neck, sparking a very recent memory - "Did you bite me?"
"Ugh, believe me, there are probably homeless people whose skin I would rather have sunk my teeth into."
Did that mean...? "What did you do to me?"
"I introduced you to the world of the forever undying. Fortunately for everyone, not for very long."
That was why he was outside. She was stood within the massive barred gate in front of the door - it would be locked. She was going to kill him with daylight. A faint part of him was outraged. "What did I ever do to you that you would kill your own brother...?"
Her voice was almost poisonous. "You think you can get away with stealing my only child? Just because you're so fat and ugly nobody would ever give you one of your own? I went through nine months with that ungrateful brat, to have him like you more. It's wrong, you brainwashed him or something, and you'll pay for it."
Somewhere deep down, a little bit of Terry felt absurdly sorry for his sister; she clearly understood so little about anybody but herself, that she had never stood a chance. Her insults and inaccuracies were meaningless, it was only Tom he cared for now. "It's not his fault. He's just a kid, a good kid, don't hurt him."
"I don't need to, everything will be fine once you're gone and he's regained his senses."
Only if she managed to brainwash him into forgetting how she and Christian abused and murdered Terry. Terry wasn't sure Tom had the temperament to even pretend to forget about that. Or about being neglected for ten years after Kimmy's much vaunted nine months of pregnancy.
He was too weak to lift himself to argue, just watching the sky turn increasingly pretty and bright shades in the sunrise which had not yet reached him. It would be a beautiful, clear day that would kill him. He briefly wondered if the rest of the family would find out - Kimmy rarely volunteered to get in trouble with their parents at least. "I'm sorry Kimmy. I never brainwashed Tom, but I didn't understand how hard it must be being you."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Do you ever feel sympathy or empathy?"
"For you?" she snorted ludicrously.
"For anyone."
"Why should I?"
"Most of us don't have a choice."
"And you feel sorry for me? How I don't have to think or care what's going on in other people's idiot heads? The idiocy is probably contagious. I hope you haven't ruined my son with it."
"It's why you don't get what you want, you don't understand other people."
Kimmy laughed. "I don't get what I want? Large, posh house? Check. Husband who adores me? Check. Annoying little brother dead? Oh, give it a few more minutes."
"Son who loves you?"
"Give it a few weeks, sooner if he's smart."
I don't think it'll ever happen, he thought but didn't say for Tom's safety. Tom wasn't gullible and Kimmy wasn't a good actor - he would at least suspect, and he would never love her after this. At least not without genuine remorse, which Kimmy didn't seem to have felt once in her life. Tom was like an object, a trophy, to her. He needed better, safety and security.
One last try. "You never wanted or liked kids, I only helped because you didn't want to raise him - please, just send him to our parents. They'll love and raise him for you, you won't have to lift a finger, and you know Dad will sing your praises better than anyone."
She snorted again. "Like I'm going to listen to you. It's getting a bit too bright for me out here now anyway." He heard her turn away. "Go to hell, little brother." And then the door shut.
Terry closed his eyes and tried not to focus on the pain. Then he heard the door open again - Kimmy probably thought of a better put-down-
"Uncle Terry!"
Terry's head snapped painfully towards the sound of Tom's voice. Oh no. "Tom..."
"You have to find shade! There's got to be some - there's woods I can see from my window, you have to go!"
Terry used his strangely grey arms to push himself to a sitting position and felt the world swim in front of him. "I can't Tom, there's not enough time." He barely swallowed the rising bile from where his stomach roiled.
"No, you can, you have to...!"
"I can't stand, can't walk like this. She knew..." Murdered by his own sister...
There were tears in Tom's eyes when Terry's vision was clear enough, but there was fury there as well. "She's murdering you!"
Terry painfully dragged himself back towards the gate. "Tom, Tom, you can't talk like that. Please, for me, for the rest of our family out there - you have to keep yourself safe. She wants you to love her-"
"She can burn in hell," he growled in earnest rage, the most like his parents Terry had ever seen him.
He rested his thumping head against a cool bar. "You don't have to love her, but keep yourself safe, please. Pretend, live your life, and one day when you're older you can escape far away and do what you want."
"I want you."
"I won't leave you, not really. The people who love us always watch over us after they die. I'll be with you, whatever happens and wherever you go. They just won't be able to hurt me anymore."
The tears rolled. "And what if I don't want them to hurt me anymore?"
Terry's mouth fell open. There was a child too smart for his own good. He swallowed. "You'll be stronger than me, Tom. Smarter too. Braver..."
Suddenly the sunlight broke over the hill and felt like a sword sliding painfully through his skin - he tried and didn't quite succeed at not screaming; please don't let them see him talking to me.
"Terry, Terry, run!"
He said run, but Terry lost a few moments and found himself fully on the ground again, writhing in pain, the sweat sizzling on his skin as he seemed to cook inside and out. Tom's eyes were wide, fixed on his face, tears rolling faster. "Don't watch- AHHHH, Tom don't watch-"
"Terry...!"
He couldn't stay conscious much longer - his hand and arm had literally caught fire. "I love you Tom," he babbled as quickly as he could. "I love you, I'm so proud, be brave, survive for my sake, you'll be so good, better than I ever was, you're perfect, AHHHHHH, I love you-