Wolf

"My sister is dead. My sister is dead. My sister is dead." The words in red ink bleed on the page, etching into the mind of Curt the truth of the words. How inanely empty he felt, yet, as he knew all to well, it was innate within him. A redundant existence that knew only "repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat" which covered the pages of his books, filled with poetry, lies, truths, and feelings. 

"God Im stupid" he said to himself, looking down at the floor, seeing imaginary red spots whenever he closed his eyes. "My sister is dead" he repeated in his head. He felt a tug on his fingers while his eyes remained closed. He knew, yet he didn't know, who tugged at his hand, pulling him towards something. A squeal emanated from the other side of room. They had found him. Considering his options, Curt choose to lay still. If he reacted he would face his demise. If they somehow overlooked, then he stood a chance for survival. That tugging on his sleeve and fingers finally receded, and he knew she/he/it had moved on to more important things.

"memory. False. memory. False." The familiar mantra added context to his life. 

"Put it down or we will shoot!" shouted the man from across the room. "No, I don't have a gun" Curt replied briskly and quietly to himself. "I don't mind, Im afraid!" The quizzical look on the mans face was comical. "you can only please yourself! I don't care!" Curt was scared and confused. He was always confused and scared. 

"Why can't God clone himself huh?" He cried, tears streaming senselessly. "I've found God, but then I lost him, found him, lost him, found him and again and again and again. Why is it that he has to be one? Maybe they are all clones of God. Maybe Im to blame for all Ive heard? I can't wait. I don't care. Tell me why I am here." There is no response. He feels the tug on his sleeve. The red spots grow larger, thicker, and more humid. 

"Im so happy!" Curt exclaimed. The change, though drastic, wasn't unique. Laying on top of his bed, Curt fell asleep. He rested peacefully. He wasn't going to crack. He liked it. he loved her. He almost killed her. No. He did kill her. She was too young. He could have saved her. 

"God, kill me! Sacrifice me for my crime! I raped her, and I tortured her, but I loved her. She was mine. She liked water and food and I just can't help but think that the world is pleasing itself right in front of me. World pornography." Grasping at the bed sheets Kurt cried again. All the pain he felt, it made no sense. It made sense. He was suffering. He watched the woman he loved murdered in front of him. His sister killed her. He killed his sister. 

"I promised you heaven true. I plucked your dirty wings. I was supposed to be your keeper. Try to love everybody right now I would always say." Curt curled in a ball, and felt the fiery furry of hated eat away at his insides. He couldn't handle it. He had to find a way, a better way. 

"Brother, I love you." Curt opened his eyes. The red spots no longer dotted the floor before him. She was beautiful the little thing. Curt rubbed her smooth head, and smiled. "Hey there sis! Sorry I was away for a while. How are you?" She smiled and hugged him.