♱ Evelyn

     Her parent’s gray eyes stared down at her horrifyingly, and Evelyn met his shocked gaze with one of a mix of her own surprise. It was slowly the light faded from her father, once drunken and enraged gape now gone silent, only winded coughs leaving him. The young child had only done it in self-defense; Evelyn feared the man would let down his broken bottle upon one of his two children, and she couldn’t let that happen to her brother. 

     The high pitch scream of Ambrosius rang through the house, snapping Evelyn from her dazed state. Her twin’s high-pitched voice let out loud sobs, wailing at the sight of just her sleeve. The twin couldn’t bear to look any higher than that, he held back a hurl as he just imagined the pain of his father. Quick breath left him as he hyperventilated, falling  to the ground as dizziness set in. His world was spinning- a sickening reality he begged to wake up from. The poor six-year-old could barely comprehend his situation, his only thoughts being scrambled and confusing. Ambrosius curled up on the floor, gently knocking his head as if it would awaken him.

     Evelyn, flicking bb from her tiny hands, rushed to his side, using all her strength to unravel him from his fetal position. Her brother was only making the situation worse, causing her to feel the revolting rise of panic in her own chest. She was only met with more ear-piercing shrieks that made her wince.

     “You killed him! You killed father!” Ambrosius cried out, balling his fists so tight his nails caused little indents in his palms.

     “Will you be quiet!?” she yelped, tossing him over to look into his delusional eyes, “I was protecting you! And us! You’ve seen the damage already done, where did you think Mom went?”

     The young boy went silent, unable to even pass a glance at his sister. Of course, she had a point, but Ambrosius hated thinking about it. Their other parent had left months earlier, their father’s violent outbursts only becoming more and more dangerous. He still hated thinking of it with all his heart, though.

     “Besides,” she continued when she heard no answer, glancing back at the body behind her, “There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

     “We have to get somebody!”

     “No,” her voice was stern and loud, ceasing any retaliation from Ambrosius, “What do you think will happen to me, huh? They’ll put me in jail! Lock me up with those big ugly men with warted noses. That's what Mom said. Do you want that to happen to me? Do you?”

     The young boy quickly shook his head no. 

     “Then help me move him.”

♱ 

     ”I don’t like this,” Ambrosius muttered, standing side by side with his sister. Hard rain pelted him and soaked his hair and clothes, the noise of water uncharacteristically loud as he sniffled back tears. The ground was slippery with mud, his boots sinking deep within it.

     Their makeshift grave was messy, and you could still see a finger sticking from the ground. It made that disgusting lump in his throat reappear. The twins had exchanged little word, only Evelyn’s stern orders rang through the cold air when they dragged the man behind the house. Ambrosius tripped multiple times, having to look away as his hand wrapped around frigid legs. He stood there shaking while his sister struggled to dig with the large shovel- giving up halfway and sufficing for this shallow hole. Ambrosius had helped to cover the body, having to use his hands as Evelyn refused to give over her shovel. 

     Now, his face twisted in repugnance. He skidded into a run, mud flicked chaotically into the air when he dashed for the door. His jaw smacked the ground as he slipped to a fall, agonizingly forcing his tired and queasy body up once again. Evelyn’s twin disappeared through the door with a SLAM.

     She scrunched her face, trying to drown out the noise of the gagging. The sound was faint, yet it still made the young girl feel a sense of biliousness. The unrelenting rain felt like little bullets on her skin, wet hair she didn’t have the energy to move obscuring her vision. The world felt like it was stretching and morphing, her reality cracking and shattering around her. Noise muffled, as if someone had taken their hands and cuffed them around her ears,

     Yet, she winced at a new, clear noise. The call of a disheveled crow. Its black eyes stared at her questioningly from its perch upon a birch branch, its head tilting side to side. It seemed to ask Evelyn so much so silently, picking her brain for the answers to its quiz she did not yet fully have. 

     She slowly turned, taking elegant steps towards the back door despite all the mud. Now that he was done with his business- assuming as she could no longer hear his retching -Ambrosius could help her with the stains. 

     Evelyn only turned back when the sound of wings hit her ears, eyes widening as she watched bird rip flesh from finger.