November Writing Prompt: The thing I'm most grateful for is You

[heirtothearcane]

You were still there when I woke up. Curled up in the armchair you'd moved into my room, half covered by a blanket that was black at the edges from the face paint you hadn't properly washed off your face. You probably wouldn't have bothered if you hadn't been worried you'd scare me in the middle of the night, a pale skull watching in the darkness... Not that leaving me alone was an option. There was no way you were leaving my side, and you still didn't think Runa was good enough. She didn't understand why you were so scared, and even if you had tried to explain it wouldn't have been enough, would it? Words never did it justice when I had tried. It was best that she stay in the spare room, you'd said, in case there were psychic side effects. Plausible, and more possible with the confidence you spoke with.

Looking at you, I wasn't sure who needed the rest more. Your face twitched in and out of a frown, the small movements of your lips as you made almost-sounds, whimpers… Was my mind any more troubled than yours? I was the one walking through nightmares, but you were always at my back. You were always with me, even if you could only come so far. No matter what happened I knew you would always be close by.

It was still dark, with all the energy of the witching hour, but this was my home and I knew it well enough to navigate without a light. It wasn't uncommon for me to be working long past midnight, after all. As I walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, listening to the shrieking of the tap in the silence, my thoughts rolled on in a pleasantly languid rambling.

What would have happened to me if you hadn't been there the day I had my first seizure? Would I have burned myself with boiling water? Or cracked my head on those hard tiles? Would I have cut delicate veins with the broken porcelain around me? Would I have shuddered and spasmed, helplessly, alone, until my mind had melted? That's not what happened, but it could have been. In reality it was a small event, discreet and remarkably unremarkable. You didn't want me to be embarrassed, you'd said coolly. Your expression was the same as our father's, but your eyes were red around the edges.

Even when I became ill… Even when everyone told you to be quiet and accept what you had been told, you fought for me. If it hadn't been for you they wouldn't have realised. Not until it was too late, at least. And even after all that, after all your fighting, you stayed by me. Through the feverish days and the long nights. I only remember parts of those years. Bits and pieces in confusing fragments, like shards of a broken mirror. But I remember you being there. Sitting in a chair by my bed, a blanket barely over you, as if pulled on as an afterthought. Your eyes got redder the longer it went on. I never told you, but I had a nightmare where your sharp green eyes had become red, stained forever by the pain you were trying so hard to protect me from.

I had been so weak then. All the fight in me was gone after the first few weeks. I know- I know I was a coward. I asked things of you that I shouldn't have, but you were strong for me. You were strong for both of us. I don't know how you did it. I don't know how we got out of it, but we did. Even now I'm not sure I'd know how to tell you how grateful I am for you, for everything you do for me. I do see it, but maybe I should tell you that more. I wonder if anyone else does. I wonder if it would make you happy, or make you feel your burden all the more.

Those thoughts were still swirling around my head as I navigated my way past couches and bookshelves, but they were interrupted with the sudden, vivid awareness of the far corner of the room. I was aware of my growing fear as my muscles froze me in place. An unquestionable Knowing flashed into my mind. I Knew it was there. I Knew it even without looking. I could feel its stare filling me with dread, with the palpable sense of imminent danger. A danger I knew well. A danger I had hidden from for so long. A black figure draped in mouldy cloth - or was it loose skin? - looming so tall that it bent under the ceiling, limbs merging with the shadows to crawl closer. A void that moved, that hungered, its malignance filling the air like a thick gaseous poison. There were no eyes, but I knew it was staring at me. I knew because I had seen this before. I knew what it was. I knew what it brought with it. And it was here. 

It was inside.

It was in my home.

And it could SEE me.

My hands became weak and the glass slipped through my fingers, smashing against the floor.

I opened my mouth.



And I screamed.

Comments

[chiron_survivor]

((!!!

Talk about a plot twist! I was settling in with all the cozy feelings of V and his sister, and then Mr. Monster showed up and I don't know what to think! :o Is V going to be okay???))

[heirtothearcane]

((SURPRISE!

He'll be fine! Probably... Eventually... It wouldn't do for everyone else to have issues from the Nightmare and V get away entirely unscathed.))