Highway Part 25

*This chapter was rough for me to write*

Highway Chapter 16(continued)

As I came back downstairs, I heard my brother arguing with daddy. Peeking in carefully, I spotted him standing there. His fists were balled up, his face alight with anger. He was scaring me now.

Frightened, I called, “Big brother? What’s wrong? Why do you look so mad? Is something wrong?”

He looked to me, interrupted. His eyes grew worried and sad, and he flickered between daddy and me. Shooting daddy a glare, he came over to me.

“No, Vee-bee, everything is fine. We just had a little fight, that’s all. You ready?”

I nodded. Daddy was sitting at the table, but I only saw his legs. We hurried out of the house, my brother almost carrying me. He held my hand to comfort me, but his face was set in a determined look. It was quiet, and then the silence was shattered.

There, was a scream behind us, bloodcurdling and loud. My brother looked back, and quickly bent down to my level.

“Listen very carefully, Veronica,” he said, gently shaking me, “You need to stay right here okay? No matter what you hear, or see, stay in this very spot. I mean it. I need to go get some people to help me with something. I’ll be back soon. All right?”

I told him okay, and he pulled me into a bone crushing hug, giving me a kiss on the forehead. He stood up, and started running towards town. I waited, scared and alone. After a few minutes, he appeared again, alone. Where were the people? He ran inside the house.

I was terrified, and I decided to go to him. He had said to stay in this spot, but he had come back. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, and so I followed him into the house, running as fast as I could. I went upstairs, figuring that was where he would go. I heard a noise in mommy and daddy’s bedroom. Thinking it was my brother, I opened the door.

Daddy was standing above mommy, a knife in hand. She was lying on the floor, not moving. She was bleeding, the liquid seeping into her pretty white dress. I fell to the ground, my knees giving out on me.

“Daddy? What happened to mommy? Why do you have a knife?”

He looked up at me with a wicked smile.

”Your mommy was bad,” he said, his voice dark. “She didn’t listen to daddy when he told her to shut up.”

He stepped towards me, over mommy’s body. I was paralyzed, fear filling my body. Something was telling me I should be scared. I remembered my brother telling me to leave the house if daddy was being mean. Mommy wasn’t looking at me, and I was scared daddy had hurt her. Suddenly unfreezing, I ran out of the room.

Where was my brother? He knew how to make daddy stop being mean. He always saved me from him. Now he was behind me, almost stepping my on heels.

“Veronica, why are you running? Come play with me.” Closer now.

“Don’t you want to play with your precious daddy? That’s not very nice. You’re hurting my feelings.”

His voice was not normal, slurred and demonic. My lungs were burning now, and I had slick shoes. I must have stepped in the blood upstairs. Why was she bleeding so much? I tried to run around the corner, slamming into the wall. Pain exploded in my shoulder, and I heard a resounding snap. I whimpered. It hurts so much I start to cry.

Daddy comes up to me and grabs my hair, yanking on it. I cry out, feeling some strands come out.

“Daddy, stop!” I choke out, “Please, daddy! Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry!”

He is suddenly angry, a vicious snarl on his face.

“How many goddamn times have your mom and I told you not to run in the house? Now daddy’s going to have to punish you for not listening, just like your mother.”

He smells like that funny stuff he drinks, beer. He raises the bloody knife, and brings it down. I close my eyes, waiting for the pain, but it doesn’t come.

I look up to see my brother there in front of me. He is holding daddy’s arm, his knuckles turning white.

“You bastard,” he gritted out, “Would you really stoop so low?”

He spoke to me. “Why are you here, Veronica? I told you to stay outside!”

He sounds angry too, but not like daddy.

“I…” I stumbled. “I’m sorry. I just saw you come in, and it was dark, and I was alone. I was scared!” I cried to him, the tears increasing in my eyes.

“Whatever. Just get away from here! This time I really mean it! Run as fast as you can to the town. Tell the sheriff that daddy hurt mommy really bad. Don’t stop for anything.”

He was locked on to daddy’s arm, who was surveying the situation with amusement.

“She isn’t going anywhere. Veronica, don’t listen to your brother. Stay here.”

I looked back and forth between them, trusting my brother but not wanting to leave.

“But…” I said to my brother, hesitating.

He snapped at me, “Just go! Get the hell out of here before I make you!”

He was shouting at me, and it made me jump. He had never yelled at me before, and especially not with those words. I backed away with salty fluid streaming down my face, running to the exit of my house.

I bolted down to the town, the darkness disorienting me. I found the Sherriff’s house, knocking on the door frantically. My shoulder ached, as I pounded on the door. He answered, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Help!” I cried, “Daddy hurt mommy really bad, and now he is fighting with my brother. Please!”

He recognized me after a moment, and talked on his radio. Scared for my brother, I left the sheriff despite his calls to me. I galloped across the town, my legs shaking from the exertion. I almost ran into our door.

Prying it open, I could see my brother in the kitchen still, panting. He was covered in cuts, a long gash down his side. His green shirt was torn and stained with blood. Why was daddy hurting him? He didn’t do anything wrong. Thinking desperately of a way to help him out, I looked for something like what daddy was using. Maybe if my brother had a weapon he could make daddy not be so mean.

I spotted a pocket knife sitting on the table, and picked it up. Running back to the kitchen, I saw them engaged in a battle, my brother getting a cut on his cheek. My brother kicked daddy in the shin, shoving him away.

“Hey big brother!” I shouted. “Use this!”

I threw it to him, and he barely managed to catch it, giving me an incredulous look. Suddenly his face became furious.

“Why are you back?” he raised his voice in frustration. “

The sheriff people said they were on the way!”

He looked relieved for a moment, until daddy stirred from the ground.  Suddenly he looked very scared, and shoved me away from the kitchen. As he got up, my brother opened the pocket knife, the blade gleaming. Darting around daddy, he kicked his leg out from under him, despite daddy being taller. He stabbed him in the face with the knife, injuring his eye and leaving a long wound.

He fell to the floor, screaming in agony. I was frozen, shocked by the blood and violence. There was so much blood everywhere, my vision began to tint the color. My brother looked at daddy, now motionless. He went to check on him, and I wondered what he was going to do.

“Why did he hurt you? And mommy? Is she okay? Are you okay?” I blurted out, a stream of questions coming to mind. “Did you hurt daddy like he hurt mommy?”

He staggered over to me, his legs unsteady. He dropped next to me, telling me to look at him.

“I know this is scary Veronica, but-“

He was cut off, and I looked behind him only to see the knife stuck into his back. My dad stood behind him, smirking and bloody. The gash across his eye was gruesome, and it caused me to feel nauseous. Watching my brother fall, he saw our dad there.

Frantically turning to me, he said, “Run! Run away from him, Veronica! Go find the police again!"

As my dad began to step towards me, I sprang away from him. I tried to make it to the front door, but he was too close to it. It would have meant running right by him. I hopped the stairs two at a time, seeking refuge anywhere. I found my brothers room at the end of the hall, busting in through the door.

My father was coming up the stairs, limping along them loudly. Frantically searching for a place to hide, I started to panic. Surely he would find me in a closet. Looking down, I remembered that my brother’s room had loose floorboards. He would hide stuff under there he didn’t want daddy to see. Scratching at the boards with my hands, I tugged on them. I managed to get a few fingers under the board, and I jerked on it. The board rose, catching my finger with it, and snapping off the nail. As I heard him reach the top of the stairs, I shambled in, landing hard.

I replaced the board with as much precision as I could with my now bloody and shaky hand.

“Come on, Veronica.” He called in a sinister voice, “Come on out.”

He walked into their bedroom, pacing around.

“What happened with your brother was just an act.”His voice was fainter now. “He’s fine. Now stop being silly.”

His footsteps were heavy, his voice pained. I knew enough to know this hadn’t been an act.

I heard from my room, “It’s okay. Mommy is here too. She will be sad if you don’t come out. Would you want to her to be sad?”

He walked through the hallway, dragging against the wall. I saw his feet when he walked into my brother’s room. I didn’t dare to breathe.

“We are throwing you a party! We all spent a lot of time on it. Is all that effort going to go to waste?”

He came to the closet door, smiling maniacally.

“Surprise!” he screamed, flinging open the closet door so hard it smashed into the wall.

Frowning, he thought for a moment. He stopped right above me. My heart was beating so hard I could only hear the rush of blood in my ears. He’s going to find me, I thought. My heart was beating too loud, leaping out of my chest. I was crouching on my legs, and they were going numb, thousands of pins and needles stabbing me.

The knife leaked  blood onto the boards, and I barely suppressed a shriek when one of the drops landed on my upturned face. He froze as if he had heard a noise, and I was sure he knew I was below him. Then I heard it too.

Sirens were blaring down the road. Help was here, I thought with relief. We were saved. He cursed, speeding across the room. I heard a window open, and then he was gone.

I pulled the board away and hauled myself out, breathing again. My brother! I rushed down the stairs, almost tripping. He was there, lying on the floor. Gasping in pain, he looked over to me.

“The police are coming, big brother! Daddy left! We’re going to be okay!”

I rushed to his side. He smiled, placing his hand on my cheek.

“That’s great vee-bee.”

He spasmed in pain, his back arching.

After a few pants, he gritted out, “Vee-bee, I’m not going to make it. And I am so, so sorry.”

I looked to his stomach, where a stain had formed. Blood was coming out of everywhere. I never knew someone had so much blood.

Panicked, I asked, “What are you talking about? The medicine people are going to come save you. You’re going to be fine.”

My voice broke, and warmth coursed down my face. He gave me a smile, the beautiful smile I loved.

“No, vee, I’m not. But you are, and that’s all that really matters.”

He was so cold, and I held his hand in mine to warm him up.

“What are you saying?” I asked, my agony growing.

My brother couldn’t die. He was the only person I had.

“Who’s supposed to take me to picnics? Tell me stories? Sing lullabies to me? Who’s going to stop the tickle monster?”

My heart was breaking, the sensation of being ripped apart visiting me. My chest hurt, and I whimpered in torment. The suffering was unbearable, to see him laying here with a knife in his stomach.

“I’m going to pull it out. Then you’ll be fine.”

He caught my hand weakly, shaking his head.

“Listen,” he choked, “I don’t have much time.”

He gestured for me to get closer. He pressed his forehead against mine, looking me in the eyes.

“I love you vee-bee, and I always have. Don’t ever forget how much I love you. You are the most important person to me in the universe. Do great things with your life, don’t ever settle for anything.”

My tears were dripping to the floor now, right beside his face. I told him I loved him too.

“Don’t cry,” he said softly, “This isn’t the end.”

He was fading, I could tell, but I wouldn’t accept it. He gave me a kiss on the forehead, smudging it with blood.

“Will you sing for me, vee-bee?”

Forcing back the tears, I began to sing our lullaby. I wasn’t very good at it, but my brother sat back in my arms like it was the best thing ever. He closed his eyes, listening. His head lolled back, and I stopped singing.

“Big brother?” I asked, “Big brother!”

I shook him. When he didn’t respond, I shook him again.

“Wake up!” I screamed, “Wake up, big brother! Don’t think this is funny! This isn’t a game!”

He wasn’t responding. My sorrowful keening filled the room, and I wept for him. My heart had been cut up, a chunk leaving with him.

I cried for my mother. I remembered the nights I would sit with her before bed, watching soap operas. She had a fondness for white sundresses, and she smelled like fresh linen.

Looking back at my brother, he was too peaceful to be alive. I longed for him to wake up and tell me it was a sham. I needed to hear his voice, listen to his joyous laughter. I wanted to see his eyes, ride on his shoulders.

Cradling his head in my lap, I stroked his hair. I sang to him again, the same one he sang to me when I couldn’t sleep. Hush-a-bye, don’t you cry, go to sleep my little baby. When you wake, you shall have, all the pretty little horsies. My song was broken, and like shattered glass cut me. Every word was an acceptance of his death, and yet I didn’t know what else to do.

When the police men busted down the door a while later, I was still singing to him. They looked at each other, and searched the house. They exclaimed when they found my mother, and paramedics came in. a man called to me, asking my name. I didn’t respond, only singing a little louder. Paramedics tried to take him away, and I wasn’t going to let them. He was fine here, by me.

“Don’t you touch him!” I screamed at them, a wild animal.

They backed away, and waited for the officers. The sleepy-eyed sheriff came through the door, shocked at the scene.

“Veronica,” he called, “What happened?”

I ignored him, returning to stroking my brother’s hair. They told him they couldn’t get close. When he tried to approach me, I lashed out at him, kicking his leg.  He stood back stunned, and gave some orders to a group of men. They came around me, circling cautiously like I was crazed.

Before I could react, they had my arms secured. The medics put my brother’s body on a stretcher, and I shrieked at them.

“Let him go! He doesn’t want to go with you! Let go of me!”

I broke free, running a few feet before being restrained.

“Don’t touch me! Stop! Stop!” I screamed after them.