---

 

This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “Suicidal Birds” Down in the Dirt (v138) (the July/August 2016 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the book Edible Red the Down in the Dirt July-Dec. 2016 collection book		get the 318 page July-Dec. 2016 Down in the Dirt issue anthology 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Bound by Blood

Dominic Bergfield

    She screamed, a mix of fear and pain. I covered my ears, trying to block the screaming. Glass shattered, a body fell, and I held my hands tighter to my head. Nothing could block out the noises. The shouts and cries ran on repeat in my mind, my heart, the core of my being. I crawled deeper into the closet and buried my face into the low hanging shirts, wrapping them around my head to use as makeshift ear muffs. The cries and yelling faded away as if a volume button was gradually turned down. I unwrapped my head and listened, now wanting to hear noise. A voice rang out, shattering the silence in a single heartbreaking moment.
    “Billy! Where are you? Don’t hide from your daddy, you little sumbitch.”
    His heavy footfalls shook the floorboards and me along with it. I held my breath and prayed to God for him not to find me. My prayers never worked before, but asking Him for protection gave me hope. The footsteps thudded past the closet door. I almost breathed a sigh of relief, but I didn’t want to be caught when safety felt so close at hand. I closed my eyes and started to count to 10. Mrs. Harvey said it helped calm people, so I decided to try it. I counted, waiting several seconds between numbers. I made it to seven and a shadow passed the door, smothering the narrow strip of light. I gasped despite myself, thus sealing my fate. He shook the door, threatening to break it from its hinges, screaming profanities at me all the while. I cried, knowing full well that the lock wouldn’t keep him out.
    “Please don’t hurt me,” I sobbed.
    “Wake up! Billy, wake up! People will hear you.”
    I opened my eyes, panting and sweating. The cheap hotel covers stuck to my arms. Madison sat on the edge of my bed, looking at me with worried eyes. The smell of smoke poured off her clothes. She must have started again. I rubbed my eyes, rough skin digging away the crust.
    “That’s the third night in a row that I’ve had that nightmare,” I said.
    “Have a guilty conscience?”
    I sighed. “We’re too far gone to have second thoughts now. Come on, let’s get packed and go. We have a lot of ground to cover.”
    Madison groaned, sounding every bit as young as she was. “Can we at least get some breakfast before we go? I haven’t had a full meal in a week. I’m getting tired of fast food.”
    “Fine. We have to be quick though. Call up some room service while I get dressed.”
    She gave a short squeak of delight before kissing me on the cheek. She ran to the phone while I got up. I went to my duffel bag and pulled out a dress shirt and pants. Madison rattled out her order and mine as well, her voice sounding noticeably more chipper than I’d heard it in a while. I smiled, happy that Madison wasn’t sad anymore.
    I fixed my tie, trying to avoid looking at myself in the mirror. I wouldn’t see me. The man in the mirror looked to be in his mid-30s instead of 24, thanks to the makeup that Madison put on me. My hair was shaved to keep it close cut and professional. Madison looked more different than I did, hair done up to match Marilyn Monroe’s at her request. Her old fashioned dress and my casual business outfit made us look like a couple straight from the 1940’s. We were far from a couple, we were brother and sister.
    Our breakfast came, pristine white plates topped with fried eggs and pancakes. The yolk from eggs bled out, making a pool of yellow just like I liked them. The pancakes were still hot and the steam wafted the smell of butter and syrup to me, making me envious of Madison’s meal. We took our meal out to the terrace where the roar of nearby traffic would provide us privacy while we talked.
    Madison wasted no time in attacking her food like an animal. I waited to eat, despite my growling stomach. I was busy mapping out the rest of our trip. Only one state left and we’d make it to Canada. If we avoided staying at any more hotels, we could make it in a day or two. We would just have to take shifts driving. We could do it. We were almost in the clear.
    “What’re you thinking about, Billy?”
    “Stop calling me that. It’s Bill now.”
    “Right. Sorry. That’s what Dad called you. I’m just so used to it.”
    I picked at my eggs, losing my appetite at the mention of our dad. I took a bite of egg, fork dripping with runny yolk.
    “Do you think about them? Mom and Dad, I mean.”
    “Yeah,” she said, “I feel guilty some nights. They were our parents, Bill.”
    “They deserved it. They beat me and you for over 20 years. We repaid the favor. I only wish we’d done it sooner.”
    “Then why do you keep having nightmares?”
    “Don’t try to psycho analyze me, Madison. This is all for the best.”
    She opened her mouth to argue, but sighed instead. I didn’t back down easily and she was too passive to fight with me. Sometimes I wondered if I had dragged her into too big of a mess. It wasn’t worth the debate. What’s done is done. I slammed my fork down on my plate.
    “Let’s just get out of here. We only have North Dakota left to go.”
    She sighed. “Yes sir.”
    Neither of us spoke as we gathered our things. No more words needed be said. What’s done is done.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...