The Virginian Love Massacre of 1871

Chapter Four.

I cannot breath.

There is something around my throat, it is itchy and coarse. I believe it may be a rope of some kind.

"Alice!" Willa cries from far away. I want to tell her to run, to get my brother. But it wouldn't really matter, would it?

He would not be able to get here in time. It would be too late, and he would have to watch me die.

My face is wet with tears. I think I am screaming, but that wouldn't be possible. I have watched a person die by strangulation. I know you cannot scream.

"Alice" My brother. That is Grim's voice.

I want to run to him. I can hardly hear his pleading voice over the sound of my own thoughts. Blood rushes to my ears. The hand over my mouth is rough, holding onto me tightly.

Something cold swipes my neck. It sends shivers through my body. The hand removes itself from my face and I scream.

How is it possible to scream and suffocate at the same time?

"Alice. Wake up."

There is a hallow feeling in the pit of my stomach. I think I may be dying.

"You're okay, come on."

My brother does not sound scared, he sounds angry. I do not want to leave my brother. I do not want to die.

"Grim!"  I call to him through a sob. My own rabid breathing fills my ears. If he responds, I do not hear him. "Help me!"

My shoulder shake violently. "Wake up!" Grim yells.

The cold I felt on my neck now skates down my face. It leaves my skin wet and the temperature startles me immediately.

I shut my eyes tightly. When I open them, I meet my brother's face.

Im in Willa's home.

There is no rope, no stranger behind me.

I am safe.

Grim looks agitated, jaw clenched and eyes on fire. Willa looks panicked, with her hand clutching her chest tightly.

I should have warned her this might happen.

I meet eyes with my brother first. "Grim? What are you doing here?"

The sun has barely risen. While mother and father are often up at this time, Grim likes to sleep for as long as possible.  He should not be awake, and he definitely should not be here.

"You have been having these same nightmares every night for months, Alice. I came to see if you were alright." Grim huffs, tossing the wet cloth onto the table he is sitting on.

Willa's disapproving hum forces my attention to her. "I did not know that." She mutters, looking frightened.

Though I have nightmares often, I hardly speak of them. I hardly remember them after waking up, if I am being honest. Not only that, but they do nothing but worry those around me, which is quite frankly the opposite of what I want.

My family is loving, I swear to that. I have never questioned their love for me. But they are also cunning, a bit cut-throat, and they feed off of peoples fear.

I was raised this way, I know I harbor mild scraps of these qualities. However, I am not the serpent that my mother is. I am not as respected as my father. I am not a deadly weapon, like my brother is.

I know that my family loves me, but I also know that they think I am the weakest among them. That I am of value to them, but one to be protected instead of utilized.