Chapter 9 - Death Wish

Natalia slumped down into the chair. It was the chair that watched her grow up. It has seen her best days, her worst days. Memories of bright sunshine and the scent of morning dew were worn into thread. The fabric of time.

The floor creaked.

It was night. The house was alone with her. Each possession was firm in its place, painted, almost.

The floor creaked again. Louder.

I'm doomed, Natalia thought. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to forget about her surroundings.

Next thing she knew, it was morning. 5:48, to be exact. Her body felt rotten, like she hadn't gotten a wink of sleep in eleven days.

Natalia relapsed into sleep, and a dream fled into her mind. She set the scene of green chairs, a glossy, dark brown table with a small chandelier hanging overhead. James was sitting at the head of the table. Strings of spaghetti were wrapped around his fork. He put the fork inside his mouth, and chewed his food. As James swallowed, he choked.

Natalia sat up quickly, moaned, and laid back down. She felt sick. Natalia Ermacora locked her eyelashes shut, her dreams greeted her again. James remained exactly how he was, his face was now flushed, his breath slowed down.

His head hit the table, his blond hair gravitated down in front of his face. James's mother and father ran to him. Mr. Blair held his son's arm tightly, and struck his back with a hard blow. Mrs. Blair's face conveyed worry. James refused to wake up.

Natalia screamed. "No!" She woke up, but could not move. Her arms were held by Mr. Blair's hands. His fingers, his linen fingers pressed into Natalia's creamy skin. Her eyes widened, and Natalia let out a scream. Her insides twisted, her lungs collapsed.

Mr. Blair left her a kiss of death.