The Sadist

CHAPTER 3-MIRA

                                                                                     10 years ago...

     Death is such a fascinating thing. One day you can be happy, healthy, and living life, and the next day you could be gone. Gone from this world, stepping out on life. I was taught to hate myself, and every aspect of my life. I was never good enough for my mom and her husband, so why would I be good enough for anyone else? Meeting Isabel gave me hope. We were instantly attracted to each other. Not romantically at first, but merely a shared glance let me know that she was somebody I wanted to keep around. When she got diagnosed, I was there. The first time she got admitted to the hospital, I was there. And as she took her last breath, my hand was cupping her face as I told her that it was okay to let go. It felt like someone was tearing away at my skin. Was I not good enough? I started to believe that my mother was right, and I cut people out.  I started to believe that her death was a way for her to finally be free from me.

     It's been months since her death, but I am completely different from the person I was before. I was only happy with Isabel so that part didn't change, but I began blaming my mother for everything negative in my life. She was the root of all evil; the devil reincarnated. She noticed my attitude was different, but she didn't care. I'm just the fifteen-year-old boy who she despised with every fiber of her body. Honestly, I'm surprised she hasn't killed me now. Perhaps it is because she knew she raised a monster, and trying to kill me would end up killing her. My siblings noticed the change as well. 

    Hanna, Mira, and Amor were the only ones who seemed to care even the slightest for me. Hanna, when she comes home, is very reserved and quiet. She has Hyperacusis, and I don't remember a time when she wasn't sensitive to sounds. She and Amor, who has Autism and ADHD, never took the time to bond with me. But I'm sure it stemmed from the fact that our mother took every chance to belittle me in front of all of our family members.

     The first month after Isabel's death, Mira barged into my room like she owned the place. "Come to the pond with me. Now." she stated and left immediately after. She gave no room for discussion, and I did miss the forest, so I followed after her. We walked to the pond in silence, but it was a peaceful silence as the cool air nipped at our skins. Carefully, she sat on her rock when we reached the pond. "She really loved you Hye. You were good enough; Mom is just an asshole." Since that day, I looked at Mira in a different light. I never realized that I needed that affirmation. She didn't say anything else at the pond, but when she caught my eye, she smiled slightly. I hadn't seen a genuine smile grace her face in years. Now, she comes into my room three times a week demanding I go with her to the pond. We don't talk often, but her presence lets me know that she does care. I will always respect my sister for saving me.

                                                                                     5 years ago...

     My back burned as my skin touched the fabric of my shirt. I was dismembering Nellie Armstrong, my mother's best friend. I never met her as a child, but Mira always talked about her with a grimace. She was so easy to seduce, and I had her in my bed the same day I met her in person. I was surprised at how flexible and kinky she was in bed. She screamed my name in pleasure for hours before she finally passed out. Her sharp nails created deep scars down my back that are still sore hours later. I killed her in her sleep, but in my opinion, she deserved to die. Her infidelity had been a constant throughout her whole marriage. Her husband has seemingly been oblivious to it and has stayed by her side for 20 years. Thankfully, he won't have to deal with his excuse of a wife anymore.

     My phone rings as I get an incoming call. It's Mira. I ignore it for now, and quickly through the pieces of Nellie's body into the incinerator. After cleaning away all the traces of blood, I call Mira back. She doesn't answer, so I call her again. This time she picks up after the 4th ring. "Who do you think you are ignoring my calls? What if I was dying?" I sigh as I listen to her mini rant. She always calls at the least opportune times. "You're ruining my mood. What do you want?" I say tiredly and slump against my couch. This is a normal routine for us as we've gotten closer over the years. I wouldn't consider her to be my best friend, but merely a close friend who knows too much about me without me telling them. 

 "Dad's upset and sulking. He's in his 60s acting like a little bitch. He wants another grandchild, yet he doesn't realize that he's going to be getting a great-grandchild soon." Mira rambles on as she sighs dramatically.

     I can already picture her flopping back onto her bed while rolling her eyes. She loves her dad, more than her mom, but he often annoys her with his antics. Dante Lorenzo, my mother's husband as well as my sibling's dad, is a man that brings fear into those around him. His children know not to mess with him, and his employees bend over backward for him. Unfortunately, I've lived with him for 22 years, and my mother gave me his last name after she killed my father. I will never understand why she did it, because she has never once considered me to be her son. I only respect Dante because he treats my closest siblings with love and care. But it's no surprise that he wants more grandchildren, and I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted more children of his own. 

 "Amelia needs to fess up soon to Dad or I'm going to go insane. I haven't had birria in a year. A YEAR. Ugh, I'm too pregnant to think about this right now." Mira exclaims. I freeze.

"Mira, you're pregnant? Since when?"

"I didn't tell you? Since 3 months ago."

"No, you didn't. I'm hurt you whore."

     She lets out a huff of laughter at my words. "How can I make it up to ya babes?" Immediately I tell her that she could name her child after me. I hear her laugh even harder as she slaps the bed repeatedly. Distantly I hear a rough voice say, "You okay babe?" but she pays no mind to it. After 10 minutes of uncontrollable laughter, she finally stops. "Hye, you're pushing your luck. But I gotta go cuz' he's attacking my stomach. Love you, bye." She hangs up the phone before I can respond, and I eventually make my way to my office. I'm glad Mira and her husband can finally have the family they've always wanted, but the thought brings an ache in my chest. She never had to deal with a who hated her for merely existing, and now her baby will grow up with loving parents who spoil him rotten. In a way, I guess I'm jealous of him. But I'm worried about how my mother will treat him, and what she will say to him when he gets older. 

 She will feed him lies and make him grow up into her ideal grandson.

And I will do everything in my power to make sure he doesn't.