GrounDEAD

evidence of things unseen by SIMEN JOHAN

Its eerily serene now, the little house by the lake. It sits alone, and far from any other house in that part of the valley, except for the farmer's field in the next acre over.

They lived alone, Jonathan and Beth. Their mother had died giving birth to him, and their father and had up and left them just a week ago, not even saying a word. Jonathan, only seven and suffering from mental retardation from his problematic birth, blamed his sister Beth for everything. She was only seventeen but to him she was the source of which all evil emanated.

His red-headed sister never did anything wrong, nor treated him poorly. Quite the opposite happened after they were left alone; Beth tried to be the perfect sister and was patient with his disabilities. But she could see in his eyes, underneath his condition into his soul. Through his irises she could see a dark emotion lurking, waiting for her to come close enough to spring into action. It terrified her, and though she did love him, she was scared to be around him, scared that the shadow would emerge from his eyes and consume her.

Beth packed up their things that night, but not everything. When she was done she took Jonathan up to bed and didn't wake up until seven hours had passed.

4:19 am.

Her eyes shot open viewing the dark ceiling above her. The bed was cold and empty, sheets torn away from the spot where Jonathan had been asleep. A breath drew out to the right of her, and as she slowly turned towards the noise, she froze in shock. A pale face glared back at her with eyes she knew, the eyes that terrified her every second they were on her.

He had done this to her nights before. Beth's breath calmed down when she realized it was just Jonathan's sleep walks. She reached out a hand to him to help him back in bed when she saw a light fly, a reflection off metal he held in his hand. The knife dripped red, and as she heard the crimson drop fall and splatter to the floor, a pain shot through her abdomen. Beth clenched her jaw and reached her hand to her stomach and felt it wet. The terrifying dream that had always woven through her mind because of the fear her brother instilled in her was finally playing out before her.

Beth's eyes closed as she tried to scream out in pain. She did not see that Jonathan had raised his hand and ran the knife through her skin like butter. Cut after cut after cut. She was choking now, drowning in her own fluids, but alive enough to feel the pain.

Jonathan grabbed handfuls of her red locks and pulled her out of the bed, onto the floor, and down the short flight of stairs. His strength was unbelievably impossible for his youth, but through madness anything is possible.

Out the door, he continued to pull her onward and out towards the forest. Beth did not know, but while she had packed, he was planning his own packing. Beth felt her body fall below and land, crushed in an awkward position on her neck and shoulders. Jonathan stood above looking down, and by the look of his face, you could tell he could hear the last short breath his sister took slip away from her.

He pushed the dirt carefully over the hole, not bothered by the roaches and worms that had come along during the upturning of the soil. Sitting on his knees, he looked down over the hill and caught a glimpse of Mr. Hamilton, the farmer who owned the field next to his house. He had been spotted, and Mr. Hamilton was making his way up the hill.

And as the light began to rise up and away from the horizon, Jonathan grabbed a nearby twig and began poking at the newly formed pile of dirt, hoping, as the farmer approached, that he would not notices the few red tufts of hair escaping up out of the dark soil...