I miss you…
He closed his eyes and listened to the silence for what seemed like hours until, finally, the silence was replaced by the dozing snores of his companions. The last thing he heard before sleep claimed him, too, was a soft whimpering coming from Eve as she struggled with the unseen terrors of her dreams.
chapter ten
When Nick opened his eyes he was back at home, standing in his kitchen. Deana stood at the sink, washing dishes with her back to him. James lay on the cold tiles, staring up at the ceiling as if he was paralysed.
James, what are you doing on the floor?
Nick stepped forward and looked down at his son. He tried to speak to him, to tell him to get up, but no sound escaped his lips. When he pressed his fingers to his face he realised that it was because he had no lips. There was only coarse scar tissue where his mouth should have been.
Oh God…
Deana turned around to face Nick. Her face was mouth-less, too. Her eyes were wet with blood and crimson tears stained her cheeks. In her hand she held a claw hammer. She offered it to him. For some reason he could not stop himself from taking it. He held the heavy hammer in his hand and spun around as if he were suspended by invisible wires. He was powerless to take control of his own body as he took two strides across the kitchen floor and knelt beside his son’s paralysed body.
James continued staring up at the ceiling, blinking occasionally, but never moving.
Nick raised the hammer above his head – he stared into his son’s eyes – then brought it down with all of his strength. It struck James right between the eyebrows, caving in part of his skull and filling his eye sockets with blood.
Nick felt sick, horrified by what he had done.
He raised the hammer again.
This time he struck his son in the mouth, shattering his small teeth into tiny shards. James choked and spluttered as he struck with the hammer again, shattering his jaw completely and sending it sideways.
Nick wanted to die, to stop existing, and escape the abominable fate of destroying his son’s beautiful face.
He raised the hammer again.
Nick swung the hammer downwards, again and again, spraying blood and bone fragments into the air and coating everything with gore as he split apart flesh and mashed up brain matter. By the time he was through, there was nothing left of James but a lumpy, red residue on the grimy kitchen tiles.
He had just killed his son.
Again.
And Nick knew that he would keep on doing the exact same thing every night when he closed his eyes. Sleep would never again come easy.
In his dreams, he looked over at his wife pleadingly. This time Deana was facing him. She held a chef’s knife in her hand. Again, Nick was powerless as he took it from her.
When he turned back around, James’s face was back to how it had been, untouched by the vicious blows of the hammer; once again innocent and beautiful.
Nick knelt down and got back to work.
He raised the knife.
***
Nick’s eyes snapped open. His breathing was wet and ragged, hurting his chest as it forced its way from his lungs. He was surrounded by darkness, not full black but more of a floating gloom. When he saw the moon through the windows, he remembered where he was – he remembered everything.
Oh God. James, Deana. What the hell happened to my life? It just went away in the blink of an eye.
He sat up a little too quickly and thought he was going to throw up. The taste of cheap burger meat rose up and filled his gullet. Then he heard something and spotted that the lights were on in the kitchen area behind the counters.
In the darkness, he could see the fuzzy shapes of Eve and Pauline sleeping nearby. Whoever was in the kitchen, it wasn’t them.
Then who?
He rolled onto his knees and rose slowly to his feet. After what everybody had been through, he did not want to wake anybody up unjustly.
The sounds continued. As he headed over to the gap in the service counter, it seemed like somebody was weeping.