Chapter Six: Quiet

The two bodies hanging on the wall by chains wound around their hands and feet are a sight that I never thought I would see. Yet, somehow, it does have a calming effect.

They're not dead yet - just being tortured. I think, for some reason, Henry wants them alive. As far as I know, he's out with one of his girls, might be Anna. Will's out of the house too. Henry's 21st birthday happened, relatively unexciting and mainly strained. Li's funeral is tomorrow but I don't know if I'll go. This is too much trauma for a 14 year old to deal with. I'm mainly just exhausted. Recent events have just shaken me beyond belief.

Will seems way more traumatised now than he was the morning of the party, however, they may not have to do with the suicide, it's probably more to do with Henry. They've never really gotten along, but with Henry home all the time now, he's out all the time.

Henry spends most of his time down here or on dates. Or in his bedroom. Being very loud. He asks me a lot about information Satan is telling me - however, it's actually been very quiet in my head as of late. I really think He approves of our actions, despite the fact that I know it really is morally wrong, for me personally. But then, I remember how they broke our family, and they deserve it.

My phone has been blowing up with people asking if I'm okay. I am. It's not that I don't care about Li, it's that more important things are happening.

"Goddamnit," one of the guys, I think the one called Hugo, says. I glare at him. "You really have no clue who your parents were, huh?" I am intrigued, not that I believe my parents were anything other than perfect. "Your mother, she liked to pretend she was perfect, y'know. Your father messed her up. Complete narcissistic, psychopathic piece of... well, you know. It must be genetic. I swear there were three of ya, though? Hm? I've only seen that one demented brother of yours." I let him talk. "Dude. Do me a favour. Get me some food. I am starving." I make sure to not let my face show any emotions. I am a drama student, I'm good at acting. "Man, please."

"I don't owe you anything," I say simply, staring him dead in the eyes.

"This, this murder. It was all for money. I swear to God, I know your parents reformed after they had their first child. None of this funny business. And we weren't meant to kill them. But that's not to say that I would go as far as to believing that they didn't deserve it."

"I'm - okay." I try and articulate my words in a way that makes sense. "I know that you're lying."

"If that's what you believe, then fine. But you're wrong and you need to understand that," he says calmly. He does seem oddly tranquil.

"My parents were amazing. They would never hurt anyone." A feeling of anger overtakes me. "They would never kill anyone!"

Before I even have time to think, I see a flash of silver in my peripheral vision. A knife. I grab it from the desk, and blindly fling it towards the man who has angered me. It punctures his flesh and sticks deep into his upper arm. It just stays there. He screams and, for lack of better words, I find this very funny. A ripple of applause shakes through my head, and I laugh. Unable to stop, I just laugh hysterically and fall to the floor, tears coming to my eyes.

The floor of the basement is stone, and cold, and soothing to the touch. As the tears fall down my face, I press it to the ground and try to quiet the claps and cheers in my head.

Hugo stops. Just as quickly as that, everything is deadly silent. Taking a deep breath, I haul myself up off the floor, and wipe my face. I grab the knife with both hands, and twist, one full turn, then yank it out. The other guy, Jude, is still unconscious. Hugo gasps and writhes in pain.

Deciding to be nice, I think that I should make them both something to eat, maybe a sandwich. My phone vibrates, however, and it's Sophie. And boy do I really want to see Sophie right now. I reject the call, though, and sit in silence on the floor of the kitchen for a while. Everything feels numb, and I'm scared of myself. I'm scared of Henry, and what he's capable of, I'm scared of Will hating me for as long as we both live, but that's nothing compared to how genuinely scared I am of being me. The voices and the death and the hysteria and the manic behaviours aren't new to me - but they are new to me as in, they've never been this bad before.

I call Sophie back. "Hey," I say calmly.

"Oh, hey, Charlie. Can I come over? I'm near your house right now, I just. I think we need to talk." She sounds frantic.

"Uh, yeah, sure. I'm alone right now," I lie. Of course I'm not alone, but as alone as I'll ever be.

"I'm outside now," she says, and hangs up. I open the door. She looks tired, but she's still somehow, so beautiful.

"It isn't fair if you're alone right now, anyway. Can I come in?" I nod, and gesture her inside.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" I ask. She shakes her head. "You okay? I ask. She nods.

"Well, I guess I just thought that, I know I have people to talk to. Girls, obviously, have friends that they talk to about everything. I know as a general rule, guys as friends aren't like that. I don't need someone to talk to, I just thought maybe you might. That night was... it was rough."

"Thanks," I say. "Uh, maybe. I just. It's death. It's weird. It's the only certain thing in life. Kinda ironic. Sorry, I'm not much good at talking," I admit. But she looks at me, and she truly does care what I have to say. "I think I've done, er, some really bad things recently. Not necessarily that I want to talk about them specifically, but, I need an opinion," I slowly explain. "If something really bad happened to someone you cared about, would you want justice for them?"

I only get an answer in the form of a kiss.