Bob
"Hey...Brother." the call was coming behind me and the voice was slightly slurred...I figured it was Scott. Tucking my bangs behind my ears I spun around. A striking pain shot through my right side, a slicing sensation ripping at my stomach muscles. I glanced down in horror as a sparkling blade
was recklessly yanked from my body, droplets of blood falling from the knife.
"Uhh...My gawd." I gasped and pressed a hand against my large wound, blood covering it
within seconds. Tears fought with my eyelids as I watched dark red blood ooze between my fingers. Suddenly another shrill of pain was sent through me, I could feel the cold blade in my left side. "Oi!...Stop." I cried, as my tear stained eyes raised to the culprit.
"Stop? You want me to...what?" It was Clint, his voice harsh and edgy. Dark brown eyes were full of hate and rage, he was going to kill me...I could see it in his eyes.
"Clint...Don't." I pleaded, "Please...spare me." He chuckled and ran the knife along the bottom of my chin, he was going to kill me. Slice me down in the kitchen. Oh gawd..Where were you Dave? Scott?
"Spare you? Sure Robert." I smiled softly up at him, dizzy due to the much loss of blood. "I'll spare you in your next life time." I felt the blade press deep into my jaw, and make jerky motions in and out...in and out.
I shot up into a sitting position, my body covered in sweat. My eyes focused on the clock, 1:14 am suddenly I shook rapidly I could still feel the blades in my sides as if it had been real. The dark blood oozing slowly between my trembling hands still stuck in my mind as I fought a wave of vomit. Giving up, I slide out of bed and stumbled sleepily into the bathroom where I threw myself over the toilet basin, hurling up the contents of my stomach. The sickening, red hot taste of acid scorched my throat and I coughed roughly into the echoing confinement of the basin.
"What's happening to me? Where is all this coming from." I questioned myself, rubbing the back of my hard across my sweat filled forehead.
"Bob...Are you okay?" I ducked my head slightly to get a look under my arm at the pair of feet that stood in the doorway of the bathroom.
"Scott, I'm fine." I assured him, "I just felt..." My words were stopped by another wave of vomit that made my lungs burn like someone was holding the olympic torch to them.
"You're not okay..." Scott said, coming into the bathroom and standing over me, rubbing my back soothingly "did you eat something bad?" Ha! Clint did poison me. I can't believe this, My own brother is trying to kill me.
"No" I spluttered "I ... I had a dream". I heard Scott sigh and squat down onto the floor next to me. He pulled a paper towel out of the dispenser and gave it to me and I wiped my mouth. "Someone was trying to kill me..."
"Huh?" Scott spat, raising his eyebrows up slightly, "Who was trying to kill you?"
"I dunno...Some guy." I lied, my voice wavering with the stench and taste of sick. "Anyways...Did you just get home?"
"Yah. Don't tell anyone or I'll kill you." Scott wants to kill me too? Oh my gawd. I guess the look on my face showed horror because Scott punched my arm slightly, "I was kidding."
"Where were you...?" He shrugged and stood up, heading towards the door.
"I just went out, get some sleep Bob. You look awful."
Dave
I lifted the silver fork to his lips, allowing the scrambled eggs to invade my mouth. It was something to enjoy at 9:30 Saturday morning, since I hadn't slept much. I was too busy trying to figure out where my older brother had disappeared to. Across the table from me, Clint shoveled mouthful after mouthful of corn pops cereal into his mouth as if he hadn't ate in days.
I watched Bob slowly stumble into the kitchen, his face flushed white and his eyes glazed over...he looked like he had gone to hell and back. Suddenly he stopped, leaning against the counter his face etched in pain as he held his side. "Hey..You okay?" I called across the room, as Clint turned to see Bob slide down to the floor crouching in a little ball.
"Bob!" Clint yelped in horror, "Bob..." I just stared at him, as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. What was happening to him...to this family.
"I..I'm fine." Bob spat, pressing his hand to his forehead, "I just got a headache..."
"Scott said..." I started, about to ask him about his dream last night.
"Oh great! I forgot...Blabber mouth Scott! Hasn't anyone heard of the word privacy?" He was upset, and he wanted to keep it to himself. This was odd...usually Scott was the one to bottle up emotions, not Bob.
"If there is anything we can do..." Clint soothed turning back to his cereal as Scott hurried into the room. A yellow coat on over a dark green sweater.
"Looks like someone has a bad case of bed head." He cracked nudging his head in the direction Bob, as he sprinted thowrds the back door.
"Hey! Where you going?" I cried, as he turned back to me a evil grin plastered on his face. I knew it was coming...I knew he was going to just give me that simple answer i'm going out.
"Big D, Can't I got out Saturday morning?" he asked, his voice snobbish and annoyed.
"You never did before." I retorted.
"Well, I'm going out."