Mommy, Who's the Bogeyman?

Chapter 14

I do NOT own this photgraph nor any of its contents. The rights go to the photographer.

Veronica's P.O.V

I looked at the door, across the way. Very little light streamed through the blue curtains. My eyes glazed over a Dean Winchester poster, holding on for dear life, to the wall.

I shivered. I hated my room. The door squeaked open. Alex poked his head in.

"Want to play?" His voice brought me back to reality. Brought me back from a trance I didn't realize I was in. I swallowed.

"Come here." I pat the the blankets clumped on the edge of my bed as Alex jumped up. He sat next to me, laying his head onto my chest.

It was hard being an older sister. Especially with a brother like Alex. Marty wasn't a problem. He was a normal 13 year old boy, but something was off with Alex.

Ever since we moved to this god for saken dungeon.

"We are moving, to my childhood home." Mother had told us. Dad had placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled.

Marty rejoiced, Alex was young, too niave to understand, and I, I cried.

I didn't know why but I cried my heart out.

Alex shifted and I could feel his hot breath on my neck. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close to my body. His small body moved every now and then. It had always been a piece of cake for me to get him to sleep.

I looked around the room. It scared me. It didn't when we moved in but now it did. Alex made me scared of it.

He had been a normal child before the move. I had tried to tell myself it was paranoia, a phase, anything.

I couldn't push out the thoughts. The voices, the cries.

I had tried to tell mom.

"He isn't right!" I had screamed, my throat sore from crying.

"He is a child! Children do these things!" She argued.

"Mom, it scares me! We shouldn't have moved here! You're insane! Why do you hide so much? All you do is hide! Don't hide the fact that Alex is not okay!"

She slapped me. I ran out of the house.

That was months ago.

The memories haunted me every day.

I remember the first time he froze. His eyes focused on one thing, his breathing short and heavy, his body in shock. Alex wouldn't leave that spot for 30 minutes. Finally he mumbled something. It wasn't childish chatter, it wasn't even human.

I had carried him to his room and went to mine. I had cried myself to sleep. Mom didn't listen. Refused to be told that something wasn't right.

"It's an imaginary friend, children do these things, the move made him paranoid." That's all I heard. Every excuse she had mustered up the courage to spit out.

I was tired of crying.

Every day, Alex would cry that someone had scared him. He couldn't give a name.

Everyday he would show me a new scratch on the wall, black soot caked on his hands as he picked at it.

Every day a new damn sketch hung on his wall. A tall man, maybe two, maybe blood, maybe tears.

Every day he would sing a song. Hush, hush, he would sing cheerfully.

It made me sick. I never felt alone. I felt suffocated by the air that gives me life, felt hurt by the world that is suppose to be safe.

Alex had slowly morphed my perspective on everything. He scared me. I scared myself.

He would stare into a space every day. He would laugh and offer to play with "the man" who lived in the corner. I would shush him and drag him away, Alex screaming and clawing at my arms. He would insist he had to be with the man.

I would cry over the phone to my father and he would quickly end the conversation, telling me "talk to your mother." I would reply saying I've already tried.

Sometimes when I close my eyes, when I am completely still, I can hear breathing that isn't my own. I open my eyes slowly, as to not startle anyone that may be there, but the room is empty.

I cannot begin tell myself how many times I see a shadow, a drop of blood, hear the scratches of nails on wood.

I don't have to. Alex does that.

Marty ignores his brother's childish words but I can't. I won't.

Every time I close my eyes to sleep, a long day done, I feel a crushing weight on my chest. I open my eyes only to see Alex at the foot of my bed. Crying, frozen, terrified. My door wide open, he screams into the darkness.

Mom runs down the hall, lights flicking on, child now in her arms.

God how I wished she would hold me in her arms.

Hey guys! Sorry for such a short chapter...it kinda feels like a poem XD but anyway this is Alex's older sister Veronica incase y'all were confused. This was such a fun chapter to write because I haven't gotten to really develop this character. Also I mentioned 'Dean Winchester' earlier and I do NOT own this character. All rights go to the creater of Supernatural (the greatest show ever). I hope y'all are enjyoing the story. Thanks for the support. Love ya!