Back when I was a child, I did not understand why Dad and Mom always fought. Bills? Drinking problems? Drugs? Gambling? Cheating? What did they mean? What were they all about?
Venomous words were exchanged between the two of them on a daily basis. Furniture was thrown around the house as much as death threats were. I used to be frightened of hearing them yell all the time, but through time, it became part of my routine.
Mom and Dad were about to go at each other, in the middle of a school night? Okay. Time for me to lock myself in my room and put a pillow over my head, in order to muffle their toxic words.
Mom and Dad were about to pounce on each other in a public place? Okay. Time for Daphne and I to waltz elsewhere and pretend we didn’t know them.
Mom and Dad were about to have a screaming match in front of their friends and acquaintances? Okay. Time for their two children to do nothing.
If there was one thing our parents were capable of doing expertly, it was the Game of Pretend. Pretend they were happy with their marriage. Pretend the smiles and laughter were real. Pretend we were one big, happy family, in front of people they knew. They tried to act perfect, but no one knew what kind of problems arose within Disney’s favorite happily-ever-after couple.
I remember on one occasion, when Mom ordered me to go to sleep, I crawled out of my room upon hearing their voices escalate. Not enough to wake up the neighbors, but just loud enough for me to want to witness their argument from the banister.
I don’t even know why I did, but I wasn’t tired and I was curious. Who was going to punch whom first? Who was going to burst into tears? Who was going to be hit with a spatula on the head?
Even so, the screaming that night must have woken up Daphne. She left her room and before I could stop her, she stomped downstairs.
Mind you, at that time, Daphne had only been five years old, two years younger than me. However, she was much braver than I was.
Daphne’s pink bunny slippers stepped right in between Mom and Dad, her hands outstretched, stopping their movements.
“Stop shouting,” she said in a deadly cool voice, “I can’t sleep.”
For a moment, no one spoke. The house was so quiet, the only sound you could hear was the water leaking from the sink’s faucet.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Then, the monster in Mom rose. At first, it was always a small one around us. It rarely grew into something too huge and alarming, but that night, she showed her true colors.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The slap was so loud, so hard, that Daphne flew across the room.
“Don’t you ever tell me what to do,” Mom said, her hand still raised, “Do not start acting like your father.”
I flew down the stairs. Mom and Dad looked up when they heard me. None of them made a move.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
“Daphne!” I cried, cradling my sister’s head in my arms, “Daphne, wake up!”
Daphne groaned, stunned by the ferocious smack. Tears were streaming down my face as I watched my sister whimper in pain. Dad hung near the front door, unmoving. Impassive. Calm.
“How could you do this?” I screamed at mom, “Mom, why would you –”
I didn’t even have time to finish my sentence before another hit came. I crumbled on the side, my head stinging from the blow.
Drip.
“You were supposed to be in bed, Damian.” Her voice was like ice. “Why are you here?”
Drip.
“After I finish dealing with your sister, you’re going to get another beating,” she said. Mom grabbed Daphne by the front of her brown hair and Daphne yelped.
Drip. Drip.
My body moved on its own. I rushed towards Mom and clung on her back, desperately trying to get her away from my sister. Mom easily hurled me off.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Her words, the exact same words that have been engraved in my head for several years, petrified me to the core.
“You better stay away because I won’t show you any mercy, Damian.”
I won’t show you any mercy.
No mercy.
Whether or not that sentence brought me back to reality, I managed to shove Jude aside. A surprised look flashed across his face, but it disappeared just as quickly.
“Oh?” Jude said smugly, “Done already?”
His hair was disheveled and his outfit was in complete ruins. Still, he appeared as composed as ever. My chest was heaving, beads of sweat rolling down my face.
I should have known. Should have known that coming to see Jude would result to this. I was disgusted at myself, but even more so at him when I noticed his eyes.
“You bewitched me!” I accused angrily.
Jude smirked. “No, I didn’t.”
Repulsed and angry as I was, Jude couldn’t fool me. “Your eyes are glowing,” I said, clenching my fists, “Sorcerers’ eyes glow whenever they use their magic. You made me act like this. You tried to – to –”
I couldn’t even form my words properly. I couldn’t believe this! Actually, I could believe it, but you get what I mean.
Jude was such a slime, using his magic on me to make me bend to his wishes. Trying to mess with my head again. Trying to make me become his.
“Funny how you blame it all on me when you’re the one who initiated the move. You kissed me first, Damian,” Jude said.
“That’s because you bewitched me!”
Jude rolled his eyes, clearly bored of this conversation. “I already told you I did not.”
“Then why are your eyes glowing?” I yelled.
His words sent chills down my spine. “Because I did use magic, but not on you. On myself. I cast a simple self-control spell the moment I sensed you in front of my house. My eyes are glowing because it’s taking effect as we speak.”
I bit my lips to keep from retorting, unsure of what to believe. I couldn’t tell if he was speaking the truth. As a matter of fact, I refused to believe his words. Because I knew that deep down, if what he was saying was true, then I had done this out of my own will.
On my own. Without his help. Without the use of his magic.
“Who knows what would’ve happened if I were the same as you, lusting to the brim?” Jude said mockingly, as if reading my thoughts.
I did not say anything, humiliated as I was. A bleak blanket of silence enveloped the room. The clock ticked on the wall.
What had I come here for again? What was going on?
I stayed hunched in the same position, uncertain of what to do, feeling very cornered and very confused.
Finally, Jude spoke. “Did you really come here with the intention of retrieving information about my sister, or was that just an excuse to see me?”
Of course! How could I have forgotten!
Rhea! Rhea had disappeared, and had been replaced by Caroline. I’d come here – stupidly – seeking for answers.
Jude’s features twisted into another sickening smile, upon noticing my reaction. While he nonchalantly tied his remaining shirt buttons back, a horrifying thought popped into my head.
“Y-you,” I stuttered, “You didn’t k-kill her, did you?”
Jude shrugged. “So what if I did?”
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