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I’m stuck.

Frozen.

And I fucking hate it. I feel the fire burning inside of me, despite my body feeling cold and numb.

I know where I am. The North wing of the house. I know because I memorized the carpet. The stupid white carpet that my mom loves so much.

I’m being held down on the floor by a faceless being. I can never remember their faces.

There are taunts. Laughter. Jeers.

The only faces I can see are my parent’s faces.

There are tears. Begging. Screams.

Mom is on her knees and her head is wrenched backward by her hair as tears stream down her face.

“Please don’t hurt my baby, please, he’s just a child.”

“Shut the fuck up, you traitorous bitch,” One of the faceless men growls, slapping her across the face.

My dad lets out a snarl as he struggles against four guys holding him pinned down to the floor. Someone puncheshim in the face.

“You’re gonna pay for leaving the Southside and selling out to these Northside fuckers.”

“She didn’t fucking sell out to anyone!” My father roars, spitting blood onto the floor. “Let her go!”

More taunts. More laughter. More jeers.

Then there’s a knife.

My mother’s eyes go wide. Her cry for help is cut short, turned into nothing but a gurgle as they slit her throat.

Red blood splatters onto the carpet in front of me. I can smell its metallic tang. They drop her body to the floor along with that godforsaken knife, its blade dyed red.

My dad lets out a guttural roar that shakes the floor near me as if all that was left of his humanity left with my mom’s last strangled breath.

The weight on top of me leaves me.

Bang.

Silence.

My dad’s body slumps to the floor, a bloody mess of skull and brain matter on the backside of his head where they shot him.

My ears ring. My vision goes red.

“Kane!”

I know that voice.

“Kane! Please, wake up! You’re not there anymore, I promise.”

Peppermint. Comfort. Safety.

I know that perfume.

My eyes meet deep pools of blue. I jerk backward when I feel the warm touch of her hand against my cheek.