After her sons Kevin and Y/N commit a horrific act, troubled mother Eva reflects on her complicated relationship with her disturbed sons as they grew from toddlers into teenagers.
This is my first x reader story so bear with me :)
A red, translucent shadow drips down a bedroom wall like weak rain bathing Eva Kachadourian, in it's eerie glow. Fifty years old but looking a good ten older, Eva lies in bed, eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling. She jolts at the beep of a digital alarm clock. She slams her hand down on the battered clock, it's face cracked and fixed with tape. It's glowing red digits read7:30AM Thursday 26th April 2001.
Disoriented, she sits up and frowns, taking in the unnatural hue on her skin. Fumbling for her robe, she knocks a bottle of pills from the bedside table, they scatter noisily across the floor.
"Shit" she curses to herself quietly. As if she thinks someone can hear her.
She drags herself out of bed and walks over to the doorway; her feet crunching over the spilt pills. Dazed, she wanders down the hall towards the front door, squinting as she steps out into the bright morning light.
Shivering a little, she pulls her robe tight around her, she walks a little way down the drive then turns to look at the building. The house looks like it's had it's throat slit. It's splattered with red paint, glistening in the sunshine as it drips down the woodwork.
Eva surveys the scene for a moment, her face expressionless, she shrugs tiredly and casually pads back into the house, closing the door behind her.
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