❝ inside each of us, there is the seed of both good and evil. it's a constant struggle as to which one will win. and one cannot exist without the other.❞

eric burdon

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WARNING: The following chapter contains graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

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I dashed to the kitchen. A rather gruesome scenery was unravelling before my eyes: the window was cracked, looking like it was going to shatter any second, with a single bullet hole in the upper part; a teacup had fallen from the table and smashed into tiny shards on the floor. The right wall was punctured by another bullet, the hole surrounded by small little splits. 

Damian was trying to snatch the gun from his twin's hands, which he must have picked up again. He managed to wring his brother's arm into an unnatural position with an agile movement, the sound of his shoulder dislocating scraping my ears. Joseph yelped in pain and dropped the gun for the second time. Damian pushed it to the side with his foot, making it skim on the floor until it reached the opposite wall.

"No more fighting." Damian breathed out heavily. Blood was coming out of his nose in streams, drizzling down his chin and falling onto the linoleum in thick droplets. "You need to pay for your crimes. Take responsibility for the awful things you've done." 

"Fine." the other uttered defeatedly, his chiselled features twisting into a grimace. 

He let go of his arm gradually and stepped back warily as his brother straightened his body. Joseph's right shoulder bone was prominent, protruding from underneath his shirt.

"I'd apologize for that," Damian sneered, wiping the blood from his chin with the back of his hand, "...but given the fact that you just tried to shoot me, twice, I'm actually considering breaking your other arm too. You know, because I have anger issues. And because you fucking deserve it."

I flinched at the acidity in his tone, but didn't comment. He had all the right to be furious; in fact, his brother deserved even worse, after all the distress he had caused. 

I just wanted it all to be over. 

Joseph let his injured arm hang loosely by his side and shifted his gaze to the floor with a guilt-ridden expression.

"I'm...oh God, I didn't me-mean to, I..." he stuttered, taking us both by surprise. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, and I know that doesn't fix things, but..." he gulped, and when he raised his head, I could see that his eyes glimmered with tears. "I think I'm losing my mind. I need help. Please help me." 

Damian and I exchanged a nonplussed look as Joseph cried silently, muttering under his breath like a mantra: Help me, please help me.

"Joe..." I started hesitantly, feeling my heart break for him. "It's going to be all right." was all I could say to soothe him, although I didn't sound convincing at all. 

His lithe shoulders began to heave with sobs and he covered his face with his palms. I bit my lower lip hard, trying not to cry myself, until I realized that his sobs had transitioned into something else. Into sinister, mad, uproarious laughter, that sent glacial shivers down my spine. He exhaled loudly and scrutinized us with condescension.

"You're both so stupidly gullible." he derided. "No wonder I fooled you that easily." 

"You're insane." Damian remarked appalled. 

"Geniously so. And you're dead." he offered a grim rictus, and in the blink of an eye, with an almost inhuman speed, he seized a knife from the kitchen counter and sprung towards his brother. 

Damian barely had time to ward him off; he stumbled backwards in the last moment, the knife missing its target, but slashing at his ribs. I watched horrified as Joseph raised his hand to strike again, the blade of the knife stained with his twin's blood. And I did the only thing I could think of.

I leapt to the gun as fast as I could. I had no idea how to hold it correctly or how to aim, but instinct took over me, and without hesitation, I pointed it at Joseph's chest. My hands were sweaty and I could hear my heart thudding in my eardrums; my senses were sharpened with adrenaline.

 I pressed the trigger. 

 It was the loudest rattling noise I'd ever heard, not even compared to the one you hear in movies. The force propelled me backwards, and I lost my balance, almost falling down. I couldn't hear anything but the sharp ringing in my ears, and my head throbbed with such intensity I thought my skull would crack open.

It seemed that time had stopped. For a moment, everyone stood perfectly still. Damian stared at me in shock, his T-shirt more red than white now, and then at his brother. Joseph staggered forward and collapsed to the floor, first on his knees, and then on his back. 

I felt like watching a silent horror film. I trudged towards them with apprehension, my whole body trembling. The ringing in my head intensified with every step I took, but I tried to ignore it.  I couldn't look Damian in the eye as he approached and took the gun from me; I just eyed the floor without actually seeing it. He didn't say a word, or maybe he did, but I couldn't hear him either way. I dug my nails into my palm until it hurt and forced myself to look at Joseph. 

Terror seeped through me, and I placed my hand over my mouth to muffle the raw wail that tore from my chest at the sight of him. He was already lying in a pool of blood that was expanding and expanding on the linoleum, his ashen face contorted with spasms of agony. The strength in my legs gave out and I fell down on my knees before him. My vision blurred because of tears, but I still could see the small bullet hole in the centre of his chest, oozing thickly. His chocolate eyes appeared to be made of glass, and as they found mine, a scintilla of recognition shimmered in them. He dropped the knife he was holding and reached for my hand. I took it with tremulous fingers, beads of water rolling down my cheeks and landing on his shirt. 

"Ro-Rose." he managed to utter, and I heard him, although his voice was weak and it sounded like he was underwater. He started to cough violently, copious amounts of blood emerging from his mouth and nose. 

I whimpered like an injured puppy, sobbing hysterically, the words coming out in distorted sequences of drawled syllables. 

"Joo-Jooee, plea-plea-see." I implored him, pressing my hand against his open wound, as if that could stop the haemorrhage. His heart was pumping frantically, so fast it could escape his ribcage. "You need to...you have to live. You'll...you'll get through this, oo-oka-y?" 

"I ju-jus-t want to be with her." he muttered, his breath rattling in his lungs.

I glanced at Damian, shouting desperately:

"Call the ambulance!" I squeezed Joseph's hand encouragingly, though my despondent tone was anything but that: "Stay with me. Please stay with me, please stay..." I repeated. 

I pressed my palm harder against his chest, but there was blood, so much blood, and it wouldn't stop. It just wouldn't stop. When I realized how futile it was, I moved closer to his head and drew him up into my lap, running my fingers through his hair. It was the only thing I could do to soothe his pain.

"Do-do you think Monica will forgive me?" he asked, more blood spilling from the corners of his lips onto his pallid, white as paper skin.

What could I answer to that? What else could I answer but...

"Ye-yes, she will."  

He smiled weakly and stared up at me, as if he couldn't really focus on my features, and then he turned his head towards Damian.

"Tha-thank you for saving my soul." he said to the both of us, shudders racking his body. His eyes rolled back, closing. 

Those were his last words. 

I rocked back and forth with him in my arms, shutting my eyes in anguish. He was gone. I couldn't believe he was gone. Tears fell and fell from my eyes, just like the downpour outside, each drop embedded with a sliver of my innocence, until it was all lost.

A killer. I'm a killer. 

"May God forgive you, for I can't." I whispered to his lifeless body, and I kept on crying and crying, not moving at all, even when the police came into the house. 

Even when detective Nichole's arms wrapped around me and pulled me away from Joseph. Even when Damian lost his conscience and was taken away by the ambulance. Even when my parents stormed to me and hugged me in the hospital.

Until I had no tears left to cry. Until I felt nothing.

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Author's Note: Umm, so....this is what happens when I listen to too many sad songs. Don't worry, though, the few remaining chapters won't be this depressing! 

But for now...excuse me while I go curl up in a ball and cry.