Narrator: Part Eight

Greetings my reader, I have come to you with another side story that will soon become relevant. Today, we're going into the perspective of Estelle, into a dream she has while my mother is away at the Donnan Castle.

Estelle's POV:

A trek home from school goes endlessly. I hate the walk after a tiring day. My heavy backpack weighs on my shoulder but I grip my pink lunchbox with excitement knowing my house is just at the end of this block.

At my front steps, I question why the house looks dark from the outside. It's a gloomy day, surely someone would've turned the living room lights on. Mom can't read in the dark.

Going through the front door I catch the house completely silent, a rare feat to experience. The TV is always on when I come home but today it is blank. The door swings shut on its own, and I throw my backpack on the floor.

Where is everyone?

A strange smell hits my nose, this doesn't seem right.

"Mom?"

When she doesn't answer panic washes over me, she always greets me at the door, anticipating me arriving home safely. I recall the cars in the driveway, indicating nobody has left the house.

Maybe she's upstairs, I reassure myself and run towards the kitchen planning to place my lunchbox on the counter as always.

In the kitchen, the strong smell of iron fills my nose. I turn the corner beside the fridge, catching the image of my mother lying on the floor, red surrounding her body and spots along the floor.

I scream at the top of my lungs unable to contain myself, my throat burning. My body becomes hot like somebody threw scolding how water over my head, and it's melting my skin off the bone. A pit grows in my stomach, and I gag.

I stand still unable to move. I stare at my mother, tears pooling in my eyes making my sight go blurry.

Her face looks peaceful and beautiful but like stone. Her eyes are closed. I continue screaming for her to wake up. Ignoring the possibility that she could be dead, but it sticks in the back of my mind. It can't be.

When I see the image of a knife in her chest I run, fearing the danger that could come if I stay inside. My feet move until I'm out on the sidewalk, looking up at the house with a haunting feeling inside of me.

I hear sirens in the distance.

The red front door stays open, slightly swinging in the fall breeze. It feels like a storm is coming, and the air becomes cold. I ignore my fingers going numb.

My mother was lifeless on the floor, blood pooled around her and caked into her clothing.

The sun starts disappearing from the sky, a sudden haze floats around in the air.

A thump nearby makes me jump, I'm unsure where it came from. I blink around, wiping my hot cheeks with the ice sickles I call my hands.

I start running in the direction I take school, unsure if the person who did this to my mother is still here. The neighbors won't be any help, I don't know them. And the ones I do never let me play with their kids.

Rain starts sprinkling down on me, a peaceful but dark storm. After a minute of running, the water is dripping off my hair and down my forehead. The coldness cooling my body, and instantly I'm shivering.

I stop, watching a cop car pull over ahead of me. A man gets out of the vehicle and walks towards me, "Hello, my name is Officer Lee..."

Once he's closer his expression changes to concern, "What are you doing out here?"

I open my mouth, but only sob.

"Did you hear the yelling?"

I step forward to him, unable to speak. The leaves start blowing in the wind, forcing them from the trees. I watch them rain down on us as a clap of thunder booms throughout the open air.

"Was that you who was yelling?"

I nod and I cry harder.

"Do I need to call help?"

I nod spitting out, "An ambulance!"

I try voicing my statement, but it comes out so quickly the man can only comprehend half. He pulls a radio off his belt, calling for an ambulance and backup.

When we get back to my house he tells me to sit on the steps to wait for his friends while he goes inside to investigate. I pace on the front porch, peeking inside the window and then back to the street.

I hear a clicking sound and the officer speaking, "Badge number two hundred. The victim is dead, potential homicide. We've got a child here, the house is empty..."

I collapse in a heap of defeat on the front steps, watching the rain pick up and the wind blow harder. The droplets fall on my feet but I don't care, I watch them run off the toe of my shoe.

Another clap of thunder comes from above, this time I'm not affected. It shakes the old floorboards of the front porch, sending vibrations through my body.

Two cop cars pull up to the scene one parking crooked in the driveway and the other alongside the street. I sit up to see four officers starting to exit the vehicles. Their doors shutting loudly, the thunk piercing my ears.

From next door, a neighbor comes out of their house to examine the ruckus. She noisily walks over to ask the officers what the matter is, her eyes squinting at me.

As she talks with the officer, the first one comes out of the home, "You have to get off the property, now. There's a current investigation."

Within a minute more cars arrive, an ambulance, and a few sets of dark government vehicles. People come out in white hazard suits, holding bags of things. I stand, realizing what's going on.

"Someone's dead aren't they?" The neighbor asks, no one responds to her but then she points to me, "It was that little girl, she did it. She's crazy!"

Officers start approaching me, I see their guns strapped to their sides.

****

Suddenly everything goes foggy, and I start to feel a soft weight against me. A knock causes my brain to come conscious and my eyes snap open. My chest is tight and my face is sopping wet, something drips in my ear.

Another knock makes me flinch, and I sit up, trying my best to wipe the tears from my hot cheeks. My body is in a cold sweat and I yank the blankets off my body.

I hear a patter against the window, it's raining, but am I really surprised? No.

"Come in..." I stutter, my feet hanging off the bed.

Once the door opens, the hall light starts to illuminate the room. Koda stands in the doorway, "What's going on?"

He breathes heavily as if he ran here. Did he hear me crying in my sleep? After all we've all gone through he probably thought someone was hurting me.

I take a deep breath, my body shaking. I don't want him to shrug it off and leave. I never can sleep after that reoccuring dream. It is always so vivid, that's because it was real, "Oh, I'm having nightmares."

I hold my arms against my chest, trying to suppress the incredible sadness.

I see Koda's tense shoulders fall, "Would you like any company?"

For once, the opportunity is nice, "Please."

He comes in and shuts the door quietly behind him. I glance at the time, noticing it's only a little past four in the morning. At least I won't be up all night, I've already slept most of it.

Koda stands at the end of my bed, picking up the blanket that fell on the floor, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I stutter, unable to catch my breath, "Yes but-"

"Later..." He finishes my sentence, "I'll sit with you."

I muffle my mouth, realizing how hard I'm sobbing. At first, I'm embarrassed, but then he inches closer to me, "I'm here, you're safe." The calmness of his voice gives me reassurance, just as it did the night my father came after us.

His leg brushes mine, and his arm goes around my back. When his palm stops at my shoulder he starts rubbing it slowly. For a few moments I'm nervously uncomfortable because he's never held me before.

Unintentionally I go dead weight, exhaustion washing over me. As I fall into his side he adjusts to take hold of me. At first, I'm confused, not knowing why I need to do so, but then he whispers, "I've got you." He speaks gently to me, just like my mother would do.

I go into a small vision, recalling the person who'd come to ask me questions:

"Where's my brother?"

The woman looks back at me blankly for a long while. Eventually, she tilts her head, "You have a brother?"

I stand, feeling panic wash over me once again. He never came home from school but he was usually home after me since his school was a further. My older brother never stayed after school, and he never went to friends' houses, they always came here.

An evil thought enters my mind, did he do this to my mother? There's no way.

"Where does your brother live?"

How could this woman not know? Of course, his bedroom is right across the hall from mine, "He lives here with me. His room is near mine."

"The room across the hall from yours?"

I nod.

"What's in there?"

That sounds like a dumb question but I answer, "His bed and desk. All of his things. I didn't see him come home from school."

The woman tells me, "Honey, that bedroom across the hall from you is an office."

I don't blink, letting the tears pool in my eyes. Everything becomes blurry, "We have pictures of him around the house. I'm sure you saw him. His bedroom is right upstairs." I close my eyes, heavy tears roll down my face.

"I know things can be confusing at times like this. I'll leave you to think for a while."

I try running for the front door, but I'm stopped by an officer guarding it, "You're not allowed inside."

Lightning flashes, "I want to see my brother's room!"

The people around us look at me, some shake their heads, others stare, and some have horrified looks on their faces. Worked up all over again my cries become harder. They're painful with pressure on my chest, I feel like I'm suffocating-

"Breathe, breathe..." A voice snaps me out of it.

The constant battle inside my head is difficult, so I hold onto Koda for dear life. The tenseness in my body starts to calm the more he soothes me with his voice.

The police and other people questioned me a lot, they wrote on pads of paper and filled out strange forms. They wanted to know if I'd seen that knife before. Of course I did, it was the one I used that morning to make my lunch. The next time I saw the knife it was in my mother's chest. They said it was too sharp for something like that, I don't think they believed me, but it had been in the kitchen drawer for years. There was nothing suspicious about where it came from.

They asked me if I had other family close by, anyone I could call but I couldn't think of anybody I knew. We didn't have saved phone numbers on the fridge in case of emergency. I was told most of my family didn't live in this country, I never met any of them and we didn't talk about them either.

The image of the yellow crime scene tape that was put around my property is still drilled into my brain, along with the matching rain gear the people had. They rushed around, trying to cover themselves from the rain as they worked the scene.

Cars drove by slowly, neighbors became nosy and soon enough they had to shut down the whole block to prevent a crowd from forming during the manhunt for the killer. I overheard the men, they assumed the killer was still close, possibly hiding. Whoever it was, wasn't found to my knowledge.

They found my DNA on the weapon, which of course made me a suspect. They couldn't rule me out, after all my mother died around the time I arrived home from school. That thought makes me quiver still to this day. If I walked any faster I could have been killed too, but that could have been a better outcome for me instead of what I experienced afterward.

Other than me coming home there was no sign of anything. No breaking and entry, no foul play at all, and no sign of domestic abuse. The neighbors saw and heard nothing, other than my cries and screams.

My brother truly vanished off the face of the Earth. They told me his bedroom was an office, and showed me pictures of the room to prove it. Our family photos were of just my mother and I, next to an empty space where he existed in what I'd known to be permanent pictures.

After learning my stepfather was found dead inside as well I was more than shocked. If anyone wanted to hurt my mother it would have been that evil man, but he was taken out as well.

After all of this, I took the brunt of it. Court was small and quick; I didn't understand what was going on. That same day my foster home packed my things, which was easy because I'd never unpacked, and I was taken to what I thought was a juvenile prison. My belongings were trashed, and I was locked away until I escaped.

Koda takes ahold of my head, pushing it into his chest. He rocks me back and forth, his breathing heavy. He sniffles, making me wonder what's the matter.

I think I'm done but then it comes back stronger than the previous, images of my mother's dead body flashing inside my head. My ribs start convulsing with every breath I take, and I hiccup, feeling lethargic.

Koda waits it out with me, carefully giving me soft pats but other than that staying still as if he'd break me if he moves. After a long period of time, I pull back slowly to gather my senses, but I don't let go of him. I wipe my eyes, they've become raw with tears that still run down my cheeks.

Many minutes pass before I turn to face Koda, not self-conscious he will see my pathetic face; it's too dark. I'm unsure where to start, feeling emotional and unstable and wondering when another sobbing fit will come over me. Most of the time, I can't stop until my tear ducts have dried themselves out.

When I blink at him, I notice his face unnatural, "Are you alright?"

He rubs an eye quickly as if trying to hide the tears he produced. He takes a deep breath, "Don't worry about me, Estelle."

I don't point out I saw him crying, but I hint towards it, careful not to upset him, "I have a lot to talk about and it's going to be very hard for me..." I push back the tears, trying to be as serious as I can manage. My uncontrollable breathing interrupts me and I wince in pain from my chest. "...but first I want you to be honest with me too."

He agrees, "You're right, it's only fair."

I sigh of relief, glad he understands.

"It's only fair that I tell you this, because we've talked about yours before..." As I sniffle, clearing my nose slightly I get a whiff of his scent. It pleases my nose, giving my body a sudden chill. "...It goes vise versa, we can't tell anybody. So please this is the only thing I ask of you, don't tell a soul."

"I won't." My voice is hoarse from crying.

"I know about your dream, and I know what you've wanted to talk to me about tonight. I'm upset because I'm reading your thoughts. It isn't on purpose, sometimes they're so strong I can hear them without trying. That's my Elyrian power, I can read people's minds."