Excuse to Visual Novels! Today I’m sharing a short story because of a challenge from a certain blogger. But I plan to make this a Visual Novel (or maybe Kinetic Novel as there’s no branching paths here) in the far future, once I’m done with my list of other projects/ideas.
I originally found about this challenge from a reblog in Dream Big, Dream Often. I thought it was a neat challenge and a good way to hone my skills in writing (since I’m not that good with words). I ended up visiting the original blog post in Kasim’s Korner.
The challenge from Kasim’s Korner: Make me sympathize with a man who killed his brother.
This part here is my adventure in brainstorming. I wrote it in white because they’re spoilers. You can drag it with your mouse to read it, if you want, after you read the story:
I’d like to make Visual Novels instead of short stories, but everyone’s made short stories so I figured that I’ll do a short story first before the VN. It’s fun when you try to squeeze your brain for ideas (remember about one of my very first posts about ideas?). I created this story with a help from my friend regarding with the story’s idea, asking if she can sympathize with a man who killed his brother.
But before that, I listed down my ideas: First idea was mercy killing. His brother was suffering from an illness so the protagonist had no choice but to practice euthanasia. Second idea was about a man who has psychological problems ever since he was a child because his parents were too strict on him, and do comparisons with his brother. He kills him with jealousy, but there are hints where he still loves his brother despite of envy. Third idea… (I don’t know why this idea crossed my mind) was about a man who had a twin. He kills his twin (don’t know why he kills his twin but anyway, this is just an idea) and in the end, his twin is himself. It appears that he has some sort of split personality… 😆 and he thought he really had a brother with him. The third one was a little bit crazy so I ditched it. 😛
After storming my brains out, I found out that one idea I liked the most. I asked a friend “Would you sympathize with someone who killed his own brother?” And as a response, she said “Depends on the situation. If his brother’s gonna kill him, then it’s self defense.”
With her idea of killing his brother because of self defense, it felt to me like it was an accidental murder, and I don’t want that. I want it to be a real, direct murder. And her idea also lacked of love. So I revised her idea, ditched the “brother’s gonna kill me so I’ll protect myself” thought, and put more love between protagonist and his brother.
This is the story that I came up with:
The Monster in My Room
I like my white blanket. Mommy says a daddy gave it to me a long time ago. She said it will protect me from anything. So I cover myself with it and then I feel safe. But in the end, that monster still comes. He comes at night to love me. But I don’t like him loving me that way. It’s kind of weird.
I hide from him using the blanket, so I’m covering myself with it right now. I wish the blanket would swallow me whole, and never spit me out. But he still comes every night. He’d rip the blanket open, and then me next.
“Mommy… I’m scared.” I told mommy this morning.
“I told you, honey. There’s no monster in your room. Just go to sleep.” Mommy always tells me this. She thinks I’m a liar but I’m not lying.
“But it’s true. The monster scares me. He touches me everywhere. He does weird things.”
“Honey, you’ve been having bad dreams lately. I’m sorry I can’t stay with you. I have a lot of things to do at work. Ever since your father left… …”
“… Ever since your-“
I see tears in her eyes. I don’t like how her blue eyes drown in deep water. Mommy’s crying again. It makes me cry, too. And I hate it. I hate me. I made her cry again. She wiped her tears away. But she doesn’t continue her sentence.
“Want me to call your older brother for you?”
I keep my mouth shut. My older brother brings the monster into my room.
“Mike, honey… Do you hate your older brother that much?” I shake my head.
“I know his daddy is different from yours. But you’re still brothers, okay?” I don’t understand the daddy part, but if mommy says so, then we are brothers.
“Don’t hate your brother, okay?” I shake my head again.
“I don’t hate brother, mommy. I hate that monster.”
Mommy gave me a sad look. Her tears fell down her cheek. She hugged me tightly.
“Nothing’s gonna harm you, sweetie. Your brother, he loves you so much… Be brave, just like your brother. You can defeat that monster, okay?”
I nodded. I don’t want her to cry again. It made me feel shards of glasses inside my throat. I couldn’t breathe. This time, I’ll try to be brave.
Mommy smiled at me and went to the door. “Your brother’s gonna be home soon. He’s just busy at school, so you wait for him, okay?” I nod again.
Tonight, I remain in my room with my blanket hugging me. I thought I’ll be safe, but my blanket is soft and thin, it can’t protect me after all. I look at my pillow on my bed. I reach underneath it, and I feel the hardness of steel. I feel it cut my skin with its sharp edge, and a red droplet smeared the pure, white blanket.
“Mikey~” I hear the monster’s voice calling me. It’s not my brother. It’s the monster.
Whenever mommy is around, my brother is very cheerful and he plays with me a lot. I love my brother so much. He scares Archie away, the bully next door. He treated my wound when I fell down the stairs. He helps me with my homework, too.
But now, it’s the monster before me. His voice changes. He acts weird. It made me feel weird, too. It made me feel scared. I don’t like it. I want this to stop. I want to kill that monster!
“I want to play that game again. You want that, too, right?” I shook my head under the blanket, but I doubt he sees what I do. “Hey, Mikey. Let’s play that game.”
I hear his steps slowly approaching me. It made my heart beat faster. It tortured me from the inside. Mommy is not here. She goes to work every night and comes back in the morning. And every night, the monster appears. Who will protect me? Where is daddy? Everyone should have a daddy, right?
“D… Daddy…” I muttered under my breath, thinking that a daddy will come if I called out.
“Don’t worry, Mikey. I don’t have a daddy, too. It makes you feel sad, right?”
I nod. My lips shake. I can’t breathe. I can imagine my eyes drowning from deep water, just like what happened to mommy’s eyes this morning. The sheet is covering me. The monster can’t see the tears that fall. He can’t see the red liquid that falls from my hands as I reach for that hard and sharp thing. I need something solid to hold on to. Not an imaginary daddy… not my mommy that is always away… not my brother who turns to monster every night… But this.
“Don’t worry, Mikey. I’ll be your daddy. I’ll treasure you. You know how much I love you, Mikey.” I can feel the cushion on the mattress as the monster sat on it. He grabs the blanket with his two hands. I can see the monster’s claws digging for me. “I love you, Mikey.”
The monster pulls the blanket away, revealing my small hands clutching the tool that I got from the kitchen.
“GIVE ME MY BROTHER BACK!”
I aimed for his throat. I pushed it so hard to plant it on his throat. So he can’t call my name again with that creepy voice!
The monster made jerky movements. Red liquid splattered everywhere. It was disgusting. This monster is disgusting! I miss my older brother’s voice. My real older brother. His voice, his gentle smile, his calm eyes… Where’s my brother?!!!
The monster fell on its back. Now, the white blanket drowned from that red liquid… and so am I… but my tears were the only thing that isn’t red.
I look at the monster’s face. It looks a lot like my brother. Only that it’s drenched in red water, and it has that sharp thing sticking out from his throat. I tried to wake him up. But he just lay there, eyes widely looking at me. He’s not dead, isn’t he? If he’s dead, there’s no way his eyes can be that wide open, is there? I tell myself that he’s still alive, he’s just tired so he doesn’t move. I tell myself that I needed to do it… To get my brother back again… To make it back the way it used to be… but the truth is… I was just scared… I just wanted him to stop…
I cried and cried… But I could only cry softly. If I shout and wail, my brother might get angry and scold me. It’s already midnight, and he doesn’t want to disturb the neighbors…