Don't fear the reaper

My feet pounded the moss that blanketed the woods. Sharp pains shot up though my sides. Ignore it, ignore it. My eyes searched the dimly lit forest for sanctuary. Sweat streamed down my forehead. My foot caught a sharp rock that was concealed by the moss, causing me to tumble to the ground. My left ankle throbbed with pain. I squinted into the darkness that swarmed me, hoping for a sign of some sort, telling me where to go. In the distance, a huge shape caught my attention. There it is. I made an attempt to stand up, but my body crumpled to the ground when I tested out my left ankle. Like a dog, I crawled towards my goal. I could hear that familiar tune being whistled; I tried to move faster. The thumping in my chest grew louder, and my body began to tense. I climbed inside the bush, and hoped that I would be invisible. The whistling grew louder, and then it stopped. Holding my breath, I squeezed my eyes shut

* * *

"Came the last night of sadness

And it was clear she couldn't go on

Then the door was open and the wind appeared

The candles blew then disappeared

The curtains flew then he appeared (saying don't be afraid)

Come on baby (and she had no fear)"

"Jess, turn that DOWN!" I shrieked, pounding my fists on the wall.

"And she ran to him (then they started to fly)

They looked backward and she said goodbye (she had become like they are)

She had taken his hand (she had become like they are)

Come on baby (don't fear the reaper)"

"Ughhhh, I hate Blue Oyster Cult, especially this damn song!" I groaned, throwing off the covers. I put on my robe and stormed into Jess's room. His lanky body was stretched over his bed, eyes closed, singing to the beat. I tramped over to the right side of his room and shut off his music. His floor was covered with soiled laundry, dirty dishes, and empty junk food containers. The stench of rotting food was unbearable.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" proclaimed Jess, sitting up.

"Haven't you heard of volume control?" I hissed back, “and what about air freshener, it smells like death in this dump.” His room was so dark. The only light that entered was through the door that I had opened.

"Smells like home to me. It's about time the princess got out of bed anyways," replied Jess, "and how was your sleep, madam?” An evil grin crossed his lips

I rolled my eyes. He was always saying that, telling me I was the bratty one, when he sat on his ass all day, listening to music and playing video games. “Yeah, okay Mr. Deadbeat, why don’t you just spend the day trying to pass the next level of your pointless game,” I snickered, “I mean that’s all you’re good at anyways.”

"Oh, look at what we have here, Ms. Smarty-Pants trying to crush me with her “intelligent” words,” snorted Jess.

"Whatever, you're the one that couldn't handle . . . college," I emphasized the last word, just to see his reaction.

Jess's eyes turned into slits and his cheeks turned scarlet. His eyes didn't waver from mine. Finally, he spoke, “I wouldn't go around poking fun at people who you feel are lesser than you. Most of the time it'll come back to get you when you least expect it." He raised his arm, like he was going to throw something at me, but instead he scratched his nose, got up, and turned on his CD player again.

I shivered. Ever since Mom had died Jess has been so weird. His personality had altered dramatically, and not for the better. I can’t even remember the last time I saw him leave his room, or eat with us at the table for dinner. I walked out of his room, and slammed the door behind me.

* * *

In the bathroom, wiping the fog off the mirror, I stared blankly at my reflection. I grabbed the brush and combed the tangled blonde knots out of my hair. I could hear Jess's music still, only it was muffled now. Opening the door, I skipped down the stairs and walked into the kitchen where Dad was sitting, reading the stocks.

"Good morning," I exclaimed.

"Don't you mean good afternoon, Aerra?" replied my Dad.

"Same thing, so what do you have planned today?" I tried to ask innocently.

"Work, what else do you think I have time for?"

"Oh, but it's the weekend, I thought we could do something together." I stepped closer to his 6'1 frame that was seated in a chair, wearing my biggest smile.

"No, sorry, I have to work on a new case," announced Dad, in a monotone voice.

“You won’t spend time with me, and Jess won’t leave his room, what am I supposed to do?” I declared, “None of us spend any time together anymore, well, not since Mom-”

“That is enough of your complaining, Aerra. Let your brother spend time in his room, at least he isn’t getting into trouble. Why don’t you just go to the mall for a bit to blow off your steam? Take my credit card. It’s in the wallet on the counter.”

"Fine then," I turned around, and walked towards the front door, pausing to see if he would change his mind. I didn’t bother taking his money, I knew it couldn’t replace the fact that he wasn’t coming with me.

The mall had no calming effect on me. Nothing caught my attention, and I felt like a loner wandering around the stores aimlessly while families scattered by me, talking cheerfully amongst each other. Those were the days, when death didn’t complicate life. As I reached the end of the mall, I turned around and decided to head home.

I got out of the car and shut the door behind me. As I walked up to the front door, I admired the flowers that decorated the walkway. It’s amazing how such beautiful life can come out of something as ugly and brown as dirt.

"Hello," I shouted out, "is anyone home?"

No reply. I walked down the hall and turned the corner, entering my Dad’s massive office. The walls were lined with books, and the carpet was a deep red wine that matched the drapes. Smoke curled from a lit cigar in the ashtray. I hated smoke. It was a death wish. I moved towards his desk and put out the half smoked cigar. Looking down, I noticed a letter sitting on his desk. I noticed my name, so of course, I read it. What's going on? Who's Doctor Smelter? Where did this come from? Glancing around the desk, I searched for something to answer my questions. Picking up an envelope, I turned it over to see who it was addressed to: The Psych Ward in the hospital?

"Why would my Dad do this to me?" I whispered to myself. I grabbed the letter and stuffed it in my purse. I heard a thump come from upstairs. Without thinking I bolted up the stairs. The once beige and blue hallway was painted scarlet. I saw his 6'1 frame standing over a limp body. He turned to look at me; his eyes were wild and filled with something unknown. It suddenly clicked. It was the same scene as just over a year ago, but I had been too naive to think anything of it. But again, another death, this time he had murdered Jess.

“You killed Mom, didn’t you?” I screamed, “You were the one responsible for tearing our family apart! How could you do something like this, how could you, why would you?” I was trembling; my hands were damp with sweat.

"Aerra, it's not what it looks like," pleaded Dad, "he had to be stopped, he was going crazy again, he tried to kill me!"

I stared down at my brother, and then back up at my dad. "You're a murderer!" I shrieked and sprinted down the stairs into the kitchen. Looking for something, anything, I grabbed the frying pan and ran out the back door before he had even made it into the kitchen. I could hear him screaming my name, yelling out the same things over and over again.

I crouched behind the flower bushes that were situated to the right of the door. I waited for him to walk out the back door. My hands clenched the iron handle. My heart was racing. Jess is dead. He's gone just like Mom. I could hear heavy footsteps pound the kitchen floor. The door knob turned slowly, and then stopped. I stood on my toes, getting ready to pounce. I heard another loud bang against the door. Standing up, I peered through the window in the door, no Dad. Instead there was Jess. His hair was matted to his head with sweat and he was smiling from ear to ear. He looked towards me. No, it can't be. How is he alive? I thought Dad killed him. He started mumbling, but he wasn't talking to me.

Who's he talking to?

"We might as well finish what we started,” announced Jess as he stepped outside.

Whose we? I swallowed hard and dropped the pan. My hair flew behind me as I sprinted as fast as I could down the trail and into the forest behind my house.

"Aerra, where are you going?" shrieked Jess.

I didn't stop to look back, I just kept running.

* * *

"He got what he deserved, just like Mom did" said Jess, "she was spawning a devil child, it was going to ruin our lives." He continued, " You know I was sent by God himself to make things right, it says so in the song."

I opened my eyes to see Jess coming into view. What is he talking about? What song?

"Oh you know which song, the one I make you listen to every day, don't you remember?" replied Jess. “Don’t pretend that you don't hear it, you hum the tune all the time."

Who’s he talking to?

"Don't be afraid, Aerra, I'm here to help you, "exclaimed Jess, then he continued to whistle.

I peered through the bush and noticed that Jess was carrying a shovel and dragging the limp body of my Father. I could see his chest fall and rise through ragged breaths. He's still alive. I scanned the forest floor for a weapon, only tiny stones. I looked back at Jess and noticed a bulge in his back pocket. I betcha that’s where his cell is. Picking up the stones, I chucked them behind Jess. Luckily, his eyes had been focused on the hole that he was digging. He looked behind him and peered into the darkness.

"I can hear you, Aerra," he teased, "you can't hide any longer."

I threw more stones, this time to his right. His head cocked up again, this time he looked confused. Dropping the shovel, he went to investigate the source of the noise.

"Fe, fi, fo fum," chanted Jess, "I smell the blood of the bratty one."

I limped from behind the bush, and grabbed the shovel that was only a meter in front of me. Jess whipped around and stared blankly at me.

"Look who came out to play," announced Jess, smiling. He answered himself, "I know she's standing right there."

"Who are you talking to?" I asked.

“The reaper," replied Jess, stepping closer towards me. His blue eyes were now dark pools of black.

"No you’re not, he doesn’t exist," I proclaimed, "it’s imaginary." I held up the shovel to try to ward him off. “You can stop right now; you don’t have to hurt me. We can get you help. I can help you. You can get better. I promise!” I was begging now, I knew it, but I couldn’t help myself. I remembered what my mother had written on her suicide note: you can’t beg for your life, the reaper knows best. It’s always too late. It made so much sense now.

Jess chuckled. "You think you can scare me with that shovel? You'd never have the guts to swing that at me, even if it would give you your life.” He came at me and pushed me onto my back. Jess loomed over me, and squeezed my neck between his limber fingers.

"You were just like Mom; the only difference is that she actually put up a fight. Dad was going to send me to the nuthouse, now I couldn't have that could I? I switched our names so they would think you did all this, so they would think that you were the crazy one, and I was the little helpless victim,” Jess chuckled.

That's why the letter was there. I could feel my chest tighten. My neck was crushing in his hands. I thrashed my limbs wildly, hoping it would loosen his hold. I felt like I was floating.

"Don't fear the reaper, Aerra" cooed Jess.

Everything was going black, but suddenly I heard Jess scream. There was struggling, and then I heard a thump. I could hear my Dad calling 911. A warm sweaty hand touched the side of my face, but I couldn’t comprehend what was being said any longer.

* * *
I woke up to the smell of cleaner solution and peroxide. Opening my eyes, I saw my Dad staring at me intently. His face was bandaged, and his arm was in a sling.

"Everything's okay, Aerra," consoled my Dad, “Jess is where he should be, I finally did what I had to do. It was about time that he went to get help.”

I knew that everything would be okay now; I had a good feeling that, somewhere in the sky, my Mother was watching the two of us and smiling, knowing that her killer had finally been caught.