Baby Roy

“Hey, freak, come here!”
I clutch the blanket the paramedic arranges over my shoulders and slowly walk towards the mummy lying on the stretcher next to the ambulance. Her sorrowful face, with her red, swollen eyes from crying, breaks my heart.
Everything is chaos. Police are going in and out of the mansion, along with the coroner, ambulance nurses, and an unbearable pain inside my soul.
“I can’t believe she survived a blow to the head, old woman.” I stretch out my hand from the blanket, holding her fingers in mine. Her battered face is bruised. I wipe the tear from her cheek, which trickles down her face as she cowers in fear.
It was a miracle that the damned Lira didn’t manage to kill her. The maid smashed a vodka bottle over Aunt Charlotte’s head. Her old body, with little balance, fell forward, hitting her face on the edge of the dresser, leaving her more injured. Her thin, wrinkled hands rise, cupping my face, caressing it tenderly. I turn my face, kissing the palm of her hand, trying to comfort her as she looks at my forehead through her tears.
“I was so scared, Baby. Scared for you, for Jon, and Jonathan.” My smile is weak, forcing me to hold back tears. There’s no way to tell her that Jon is involved in this, not now, with her so shaken.
“It will be alright, Aunt. Everything will be alright.” I hold her hand against mine, kissing it with love.
Aunt Charlotte won’t be able to handle this, and neither can I. My body feels numb, and I can still see Jon’s cold eyes shining at me. I didn’t retaliate. I couldn’t retaliate against my own son. My body leans in until my face rests on Aunt Charlotte’s chest, hiding my tears from her.
No one can have coffee. Ginger’s empty chair swallows every gaze. Aunt Charlotte looks at me with a mute question, and I just nod in response. I knew the moment I saw Jon leave his room alone. When I asked if Gim was still asleep, he told me she had gone, that there was nothing of her left in the room. When Roy’s gaze falls on the empty space, I know he will lose control.
“Did Lira serve the coffee in her room?” I breathe slowly, squeezing my fingers in my lap, thinking about how to tell her. “Baby, I asked you a question!”
“Gim is gone.” Jon’s voice whispers, his shoulders slumped, with a sad look, lifting his face to Roy. “She didn’t even say goodbye to me, to anyone, I think. She just left us forever…”
I close my eyes, feeling my heart skip a beat. I know Jon didn’t say it on purpose, but it’s the same as hitting the off button on Jonathan. My brother breathes heavily, his fingers gripping the table as he focuses on the spoon, trying to align it with the rest of the dishes before him. He removes it, swaps places, moves it by size, until the cup shatters against the wall when he throws it in a fit. I release the breath trapped in my lungs as the chair crashes to the floor with a loud bang when Roy’s heavy body rises.
“Roy... Roy, my love, look at Aunt…” His reasoning is no longer present, not even turning when Aunt Charlotte calls him.
I get up, circling the table, stopping her from going after him. Everyone in the mansion hears the room being destroyed, the screams that sound like the roars of a wounded beast. I pull Aunt Charlotte into my arms, trying to calm her, not letting her go after Jonathan or enter the room.
“Jon, go to the library, love.” I feel my eyes burning, the pain in my chest increasing. I want to keep him away from what’s to come. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” I look at Lorane, asking for help to distract Jon.
Aunt Charlotte’s fingers clutch my clothing, lifting her head to me, terrified.
“Baby, don’t let him try again. He won’t come back…” Like me, Aunt Charlotte knows what might happen.
The last time Jonathan had a crisis, overtaken by his disorder, we received a call saying his car had gone off the road. But Roy didn’t lose control, he tried to take his life, and almost succeeded. When he came out of the coma, his instinct and desire for death were dormant, like an underwater cave hidden within himself, waiting only for an outburst to explode.
“It will be alright, Aunt…” I fall silent when I hear the front door of the mansion explode.
I pull away from her, rushing to the door. My heart stops when I see Jonathan getting into his car. My screams of despair only cease when I hold his arm before he can leave.
“Roy, get out of the car! Please, Jonathan, don’t do this!” His face is lost. Roy has never been like this, so fragile and exposed. “My brother, listen to me, please. Give me the keys. Don’t do this to me, don’t do this to yourself, Roy.”
“You were right, Baby. You were right when you warned me I’d regret it.” His fingers crush the steering wheel, whispering like a boy. I see the wounds on his skin, with open cuts and blood dripping.
“Jonathan, give me the keys, it will be alright.” I extend my hand to him, my fingers trembling. “It will hurt her much more if you do this to yourself.”
His face lifts, looking at me, as if considering my words.

“Do you think I want to die?” His voice is soft as he looks at me. “You’re mistaken, Baby. I want to live. I want to find her and tell that woman what she did to me. I need to ask for her forgiveness…”
My fingers fall, seeing him so clearly, as if it's the first time I’m truly seeing his eyes. It's not a desire for death that shines in Jonathan’s blue irises, but a desire for life. I step away from the car, taking a step back, praying that I’m not mistaken in what I read on his face. Jonathan skids over the grass, tearing off in the car. I rush back into the mansion and go after Aunt Charlotte, who is anxious and looking at me in fear.
“It will be alright, Aunt.” I drape my arm over her shoulders, helping her to her room.
She climbs the stairs in silence, her breath weary. She lets her gaze wander towards Ginger’s open door, but I don’t let her go there and lead her straight to her own room.
“Are you sure he’ll be okay, Baby?” I smile to contain her distress. I nod, helping her settle into bed.
“Yes. And you were right, old gossip.” I raise her hand in mine, giving it a gentle pat. “I should have looked after Ginger that night…” I sigh wearily, shrugging my shoulders. “If I had, I would have seen the loving look she gave him. And that’s what holds Roy, this new feeling he’s never experienced and is learning to cope with.”
Aunt Charlotte closes her eyes, shaking her head slowly, with tenderness.
“I was there when Reimond went to pick her up from the asylum during her last stay. Sonja blinded him, manipulating his feelings as if they were fine strings she wove any way she wanted.” Her eyes open, bringing a distant melancholy. “There was never that look between them. Never, Baby. Sonja never looked at your father like Jonathan looks at Miss Fox. Your mother never felt guilty for the unhappy way she left my brother.”
I remain silent, letting her close her eyes again. Aunt Charlotte blames herself for her entire life, for not being able to keep Sonja away from Dad, for not seeing what was happening with Roy.
“It will be alright, Aunt,” I whisper, looking out the window. I hope the past won’t repeat itself.
“I should never have kept my brother’s old belongings in that chalet. I should have destroyed everything, any damned memory of Sonja and what she did to my nephew and my brother.”
I spend half an hour with her in her room before leaving her calm and more settled in bed. My steps lead me to Gim’s room before I go after Jon in the library. It’s a mess. Every corner he could have destroyed and broken, he did, to release his rage. I hug my body, leaning against the doorframe. I have no idea how this story will end, or if it’s right for him to let Ginger follow her path, but somehow, the only thing I can be sure of is that Ginger changed Jonathan forever, breaking the damned monstrous link that tied Sonja to him. I rub my face in sadness, ready to leave her room, but my steps stop when I hear noises coming from Jon’s room. I look at the door, wondering if he might have returned to his room, and walk to see him. The door is ajar, so I push it open slowly. My eyes stop on the bed, where I see Lorane gripping the mattress, her breathing rapid as she bites the pillow. I can't believe what I’m seeing. Jon, sweaty, penetrating her slowly, his face contorted in agony. My brain shuts down; it’s like I’m watching that old tape again, as Jonathan’s crying face replays in my mind. I feel my veins burning. My body, driven by rage, crosses the room in seconds, pulling him away from her. The first slap of my open hand hits Lorane’s cheek as she screams in fright, turning towards me.