The Boy (a Brahms fanfic)

Rule #2

It's almost half past seven o'clock in the morning when I woke up. I used to wake up earlier than that. My body ached as soon as I stood up from my bed. I saw my reflection from the small mirror on my wall. My mask was on my face the whole time? Maybe that's why Greta ran off. Was she scared of me? Perhaps I should have let her see my face. I took off my mask and I saw myself in the mirror. What am I even looking at? I'm a monster. I sure have been a bad boy. Mother and Father never came back because they were ashamed of what their son had become. I saw a small knife on top of my own refrigerator. I took it and started to carefully shave off the beard I have grown.

Right after it, I went down to start cleaning the mess I have made last night. The corpse's smell is all over the place, maybe I should've buried it somewhere in the garden last night. I carried the dead body, covered with an old blanket, with both of my hands, leaving some bloodstains behind.

I went to find Father's old shovel in his gardening tools. Should I bury the body right next to where, what they all thought, my body was buried? Of course not! I should probably put it somewhere far from my own grave. I walked past my tombstone where my name was engraved to it. When I finally found a right place where I should bury the dead man's body, I started to dig the soil.

After I buried the corpse, I realized that the sun is out shining. I thought the rain last night would continue up until today. I hurriedly went back inside because I feel so uncomfortable when the sun is on my skin.

I heard my stomach growl. I haven't eaten anything yet. Even my body knows my rules. And so I went to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. This is Greta's favorite kind of sandwich, with jam in it. Last night, I didn't know she was holding a screwdriver the whole time. So she stabbed me on my stomach with it.

Why am I even thinking about her? And that night? She didn't want me. All she really wanted was Malcolm!