The Prisoner Project

ELEVEN

Hugh had always been the black sheep of the family. I and Diana were prodigies, we were the stars of our small town, we put our town on the map. We were gifted, and basked in the attention of our parents, friends, and the world around us.

But then there was Hugh.

My baby brother, Hugh, was a child built from the tools of angst, neglect and disappointment. He was special, never learnt how to read or write. My father had once said Hugh was evidence that God was capable of making mistakes. And although Hugh had kept a straight face at the dinner table, I could hear his sobs through my bedroom wall that night.

I had gone to hug him despite the fact that he had given I and Diana a black eye and bruises for being smart asses. I had always loved him more than Diana did.

When my father left, the part of him that was keeping him controlled tore apart like a beast from human skin. He lost it. He blamed us for the wayward way he was. He was a huge kid so it was easy to bully I, Diana and my mother. He beat us into submission and we just cowered away in fear for five years. We were physically, emotionally and mentally trapped.

To the world outside, the Black family lived the perfect happy life, but on the inside, we were irrevocably shattered.

And now, here he was, standing before me, with years of pain stacked up against him like a house of burnt cards.

I swallowed, wetting my dry parched mouth. "Drop the gun, Hugh, you don't want to kill me."

His eyes widened and then he scoffed. He chuckled, shaking his head in disappointment. He snarled, bringing the gun back up. "You're not gonna save yourself? I'll kill you, then your sister, like I killed the thing you call a mother."

I hissed in pain.

Hearing those words and envisioning the images made me feel sickened. A fresh wave of tears flooded my eyes. A sordid gasp escaped my lips. "You didn't."

"I really wish you could've been there." He chuckled, poking at some grievously dark humour. "The bullet blew her brains out like confetti."

My heart sped up so fast I felt ill. He killed my mother. His mother. Our mother. The love and light of my darkened life. I felt my eyes spot and the familiar grip of sadness twist my heart. Before I could topple to the ground into unconsciousness, I felt a cold press of metal on my chest. I hadn't realised he had stepped closer.

"See you in hell, Aria."

And the slide of hands pulled a trigger.

___

My hands shook as I gulped down my third cup of water. I was pacing my bedroom now and all I wanted to do was leave the room that had caused me to have another nightmare.

It was all Diana's fault. And after she had told me her worrying news, I had cussed her out so severely that I was sure she was never going to speak to me again.

I threw the plastic cup dramatically against the front door and hollered. "Why won't you just open?!"

There had been another lockdown last night because Kaufman hadn't been found yet. However, this morning, I got a green light email that he had been caught and it was safe. Yet, my room was still sealed.

"I'm gonna die in this stupid room, aren't I?" I muttered to a potted plant, sliding down against the door. "The freak writing letters to my sister is gonna come here and kill me. I can feel it."

I wrapped my robe tighter around my body and shivered. Diana's information and the Nightmare had shaken me up very seriously. I had no more tears left in my eyes and now I just felt hollow. I had barely slept last night, tossed and turned every few minutes.