Today Father slapped Brother. I can honestly say I have never seen father exhibit violence in any form. It kind of makes me afraid.
Lately Brother has been saying strange things, and leaving the cave for long periods of time. The other night he came into my tunnel and whispered things to me. Not the type of things that set my blood ablaze, and burn a fire in my belly. The type of things that made beetles crawl under my skin. The type that made me fear for both him and myself.
"We don't have any names." He whispered. This did not bother me, for I had often wondered why as well. I merely shrugged my bony shoulders and cocked my head.
"We don't need petty labels. You are my brother, flesh and blood. Mother is our mother, Father our father. It only makes sense that we call each other by title." My palm kneaded his thigh gently, an act I knew was pleasurable. But once I started his eyes glinted and he grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand from him.
"Brothers and sisters don't touch each other that way. And we do need names. I've seen things, Sister. People in clothing, holding hands. Eating animals. It's strange, but it feels right watching them. I ate something called pizza. It had creamy white stuff that followed your mouth in a string. The flavor was amazing." He continued on with stories. Stories of places that were not home. And he said how we lived was wrong. It was then that I got scared, friend. My blood froze and my bones trembled. I knew something was coming. The future looms above us, dear. Dark and ominous.
See you soon.
- Daughter
YOU ARE READING
The Family Secret
HorrorThis is a diary, kind of, of a girl. This girl is a child of many generations of incest, so she is horribly disfigured. And to top it off, she doesn't like to hunt. Neither does Father. Or Mother. Why hunt when you can have people that wander by? Wh...
