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“Oh Dios mío,” my grandmother blurted as she embraced me.

“Everything's okay, you’re safe now.” Am I really? My whole family was just slaughtered, and I haven’t slept in days. Everywhere I look I see my family members deceased, twisted, morbid ways. Maybe I’m just overthinking all of this. This is a new start, but I can’t shake the feeling i’m being stalked. It’s the same feeling I had when I found them. My anxiety rose to new heights, the world became blurry, then it all went black. I had entered my old New York home; in the basement my younger sibling’s laughter faded in the background, I turned around and saw a sinister apparition holding my sister’s severed head. A feeling of dread overcame me, I was paralyzed with fear. Why am I seeing this? Why can’t this just go away? I tried shutting my eyes but I couldn’t, my body was completely immobilized. Anger built up as I witnessed my sister’s head be crushed under his vicious grip.

My sister’s voice whispers in my ear, “Why didn’t you help us, you left us to die.”

“How was I supposed to know you were gonna be killed right after I left,” I exclaimed.

“You’re the reason we’re dead, big brother, you killed us the moment you left.” She’s right, I abandoned them all, and now my sister lays dismembered, her biggest fear. I should’ve done something, now whatever this thing is, it’s coming after me. This monstrosity stood above my sister’s dismembered corpse.

“Why am I seeing this, I just want to start over, I want to move on,” I said fraily.

“Because you killed them, you’re the reason they’re dead.”

“Who are you?” I asked curiously.

“You,” he whispered as he faded into the cloud of smoke. I don’t understand what he means; was I in town? I couldn’t have been, Blake and I were at a party, right? Everything about that day is just so hazy. I walked up the concrete steps of the basement up to the first floor. The hardwood flooring shined just like the first time I walked on them; the table set exactly like the first and only time we ate as a complete family. My mother sat quietly at the table, the only sound now was her fork hitting the plate.

“M..mother?” She didn’t even acknowledge me, I approached her carefully. She turned around slowly and I got to see her sky blue eyes for one last time. Tears rolled down the side of my face, I remember a time when my mother chased her dream of being a singer, she always used to sing me her favorite Michael Jackson songs. I can hear when she used to sing Dirty Diana while she washed dishes.

“What’s the matter chico, you look like you saw a ghost,” she had a warm smile but her eyes were empty, and shallow.

“You’re not real, you died right in front of me,” I asserted. Her expression turned from warm to blank. Her eyes began to bleed a crimson red, and the smell of a rotting corpse filled the air.

“I could’ve had a happy peaceful family if I had never given birth to you,” she ranted, “All my children, my husband, my mother and father. All of them are gone because of you.”

Why, how, I don’t understand, I wasn’t home that night. There is no way i could’ve done this, right? She kept ranting about how she could’ve been this huge celebrity, but I tuned her out. There is no way I could’ve killed them, it’s probably just my head making me feel guilty about leaving them. She kept ranting, but that’s when she picked up a knife from the kitchen table and put a gash right on my cheek. She had my full attention now. I dodged each slash, until she backed me against the wall.

“You don’t want to do this mother.”

“Yes I do, you’re a disgrace to this family. You don’t deserve to carry on the family name; once you’re gone it will be cleansed.”

Her eyes were pitch black now, an expression of hatred covered her face. I managed to take the knife from her, but she attempted to tackle me and instinctively I shoved the knife right through her neck. Exactly how I found her that day. I began to tremble. Did I kill them? What the hell is going on?  No,no, no, I couldn’t have but I can’t shake that feeling of uncertainty. I roamed the rest of the first floor, empty. The carpeted staircasing was stained with blood, and each step had a letter spelling out “The Reaper.” I walked up each step cautiously; every door in the tight corridor that is the upstairs of my New York residence was closed; except the door to my brother’s room. I vigilantly walked in the room, empty, I sighed in relief. His room was a mess, broken furniture lays in the middle of the room; a hole in the wall the size of a cannonball. Blood streaks cross his walls from end to end, the stench of decomposing body parts was particularly strong.

“Hello little brother,” I jumped in panic, “I see you’re still as jumpy as ever,” he said as he chuckled. “You like the new look? I do, I went for something more…. Chaotic.”

“You’re still as insane as ever,” I retorted, I pointed to an open freezer full of my father’s body parts in the corner of the room; he started to laugh.

“I was always the one that dreamed about killing the family, but I never thought it would be you to carry it out,” his laugh became more maniacal.

“I didn’t kill them,” I responded defensively.

“Oh sure you didn’t, I guess I didn’t just watch you put a kitchen knife through mom’s throat,” his laugh was now more mocking,” And I guess I didn’t watch you crush Elizabeth’s head. You’re not fooling anyone.” He’s angry, this isn’t good. “We know you’re insane too little brother, don’t be so hypocritical. I saw every moment of it, up to the point where you gouged my eyes out and burned me alive.” I felt a chill up my spine as an ominous wind blew into the room. I turned towards the window, “I’m tired of you little brother; you stole my shine, I guess this is goodbye.” My brother morphed into the black cloaked apparition I encountered in the basement.

“What the hell are you?” I said shakily.

“I’m the Reaper, or in other terms, i’m you.”

“You’re lying, there is no way I did all of this,” I exclaimed unsure of what was coming next.

“You still don’t see it do you? How much clearer do you need it to be.”

“Lies, lies, lies! You’re lying!” I screamed psychotically.

“Am I?” He lifted his hood and what I saw a mirror image of myself. “Do you understand now? I don’t know how to make it any more clear.” No…. no, this can’t be real.

“Leave me alone!”

“That’s not possible, you and I are one in the same. My experiences are yours, yours are mine. We’re two sides of the same coin. Everyone we love will die by our hands.” The world became blurry and I woke up on my grandmother’s couch. What’s going on? What happened to me? I guess that was all a dream, but what the hell was all that.

“Grandma?” I questioned as I walked into the kitchen.

Blood stained the kitchen floor, the marble countertops were flooded with blood. My grandmother’s head sat in the sink, and my grandfather was hanging from the ceiling. What the hell, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening. I looked down at my hands and clothing, I was drenched in blood. Now crying uncontrollably, I ran to the bathroom, looked in the mirror and noticed a deep gash on my left cheek. I cried out to the sky, I was lonely and scared, but only the Devil responded because God wasn’t there. Tears flowed down my face. I walked into my grandfather’s room, opened up his closet, and took his Revolver. They say death takes you to a better place but I doubt it. I ended the nightmare with one bullet, mine at least. The Devil grows inside of the hearts of the cold and wicked, white, brown, yellow, and black color is not restricted. You have a self-destructive destiny when you’re inflicted. You’ll become one of God’s children that fell from the top. You’ll become, a Reaper.

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