Breaking the Sound Barrier

Aiden wasn't one to complain about most things, but he knew when he was getting the short end of the stick. He lived with both his parents and his dog. His father was a pale, scrawny, pathetic shell of a man, and his mother was muscular, brash and a very forceful type. Since the odds were against his father, things weren't always going well at the end of the day. His father would often be lying on the couch, bruised and tired. Aiden would ask, but they both knew what was going on even without the verbal confirmation. His mother had an overly aggressive and controlling perspective on things. If things didn't go her way, she would resort to violence to ensure they would.
He remembered how he ran home one day to his little white house in the woods, beaten up from school. His father, of course, ran over to check on him, but his mother quickly shoved him out of the way. Aiden kept mumbling through his salty tears, explaining how a girl had beaten him up at school. She scoffed at him and told him what he should have done to the person that beat him up, then she said it. “There is no place for the weak in a world like ours.” His mind lingered on those words, toying with them over and over. Still to this day at seventeen years of age, Aiden Carter still didn't understand what she had meant. How could somebody not have a place in this world?
His mother’s footsteps broke his concentration and silence throughout the house. Without any hesitation, he quickly clasped his hands over his ears tightly, trying to push the world out. Ever since he was ten, he remembered the term ‘tinnitus' being passed around from his doctor to his parents. To their surprise, the ringing only began when Aiden was exposed to moderately loud noises, unlike most patients who experienced the ringing in quiet settings. Doctors had suggested getting Aiden some headphones to help muffle the sounds and protect the sensitivity in his ears. He grew such a passionate hatred for those unbearable sounds that would ring in his head. He usually fled whatever scene he was in and was greatly distressed afterward for a long period of time if he heard that awful ringing. The doctor had warned about this turning Aiden into an angered child, but that problem never occurred. Rather, Aiden began to isolate himself to avoid the situation altogether. 
He hurried up the stairs, two steps at a time, and went into his small room. A thin, black husky was sitting on his sheets. This was Home, an eight month old Husky. Aiden adopted Home from a town fair when the dog was about a month or so old. His father thought since he was alone and quiet too often, and he would need something to make sure he wouldn't be completely isolated from the world. He loved his pet dearly, it was one of the only things who showed him any reciprocated love aside from his father. So, his attachment towards the frail, little animal was almost instantaneous. Aiden sat down and pulled Home onto his lap, gently running his fingers through the black dog’s soft hair.
Once again, his mother’s footsteps creaked up the old wooden steps. He had be waiting before for the chorus of screaming and slamming doors to begin, though it never came. This is the calm before the storm Aiden thought to himself as he glared at the closed door. Home sensed his master’s distress and looked at the closed wooden door, his ears flattening as if he was disturbed as well. His mother opened the door and peeked her head in, holding a bag of cookies and various other pastries in her hand.
“Aid, I brought you cookies.” She tossed over the bag and he caught it quickly, setting it aside. His saffron-colored eyes meet her emerald ones. He didn't resemble his mother as much as he did his father. He had his mother’s muscular build, which developed over time like his mother wanted. He had his father’s face structure though, he had that same charcoal hair and those lifeless, sinking eyes. 
He could have pulled off being a model, or so he was told, if his body wasn't covered in as many scars. He nodded and averted his mother's piercing gaze. He could feel her eyes staring into his soul and he quickly glared at his wall, which was draped with posters to cover the peeling wallpaper. 
“Good day, mother...” He politely answered, with a bit of a harsh growl. She rolled her eyes and left. As long as he lived in her house, he was still under her rules. No amount of disrespect would change that. He looked inside the bag, slowly digging out only the sugar cookies with Hershey Kisses in the middle, those were the kind he enjoyed the most. He quickly wolfed them down, then set the bag up high where Home couldn't get to them. He sat up quickly and mentally prepared for the horrors that would await him downstairs.
He hurried down the steps and wandered around aimlessly through his house as he awaited dinner. His father was watching the golf game silently on the couch while his mother was in the kitchen. This was one of those ‘Once in a Blue Moon’ moments where everything and everyone were at peace. Although he knew it wouldn't last long, he sat down next to his father and watched the game. What most people failed in understanding about an abusive parent, was the cycle that a person become accustom to. Everything will seem alright for a short while. Nobody will scream or yell. There aren't any bruises, and one could actually think that the parents are happily in love. Then, someone snaps and suddenly it's what seems like an endless night of bloody knuckles and relentless screams for help. The cycle repeats. Aiden would love to live in the happy moments forever and enjoy them, but he knew that he was just in the eye of the storm. Soon, the fighting would begin again. And his father would fall victim to the hopeless dreaming that his wife would change.
“Dinner will be ready soon. I want this to be a nice family dinner tonight. So, both of you can get your asses up and join me at the table.” Aiden rolled his eyes in annoyance and looked away from the kitchen where the broad, angry she-devil stood, waiting. Both men hesitantly stood up as if they were ragdolls being ripped away from the ground by their strings. They walked along slowly to the kitchen before sitting at their designated seats, silently dreading every moment they had to be with her.
Home sat between his master’s legs, patiently waiting for Aiden to slip him a little food every once in a while through the meal. Nothing was really said during dinner, which in the Carter's household was a blessing. Aiden slowly and silently ate his meatloaf, finishing off the corn and mashed potato sides. He excused himself and walked to the sink to wash his plate off. Aiden could hear his parents talking quietly behind him as his sensitive ears began to ring.
“Henry, you've got to do something about that damn dog.” Aiden tensed up as the ringing grew louder, but resisted the urge to make it noticeable that he was distressed. His mother loved the dog for the first few weeks, but started hating him afterward and was just itching for a way to get rid of the mutt. Guess they really do call it 'puppy love' for a reason, he thought to himself. The woman couldn't even love a single thing for more than a month. He continued scrubbing the dishes until he could make out his reflection in one of the now pristine plates. He wanted any excuse to stay away from that dreaded oak table. 
“You know he loves that dog Sandy... He ain't doin’ no harm to us. He’s good for Aid’s social problems, that’s why we got ‘im right?” His father ate quietly, talking between mouthfuls.
“He is doing harm! He ate my sandals and peed in my room! Aiden hasn't bothered to punish him for doing all of these shitty things to me. Get rid of him, or I’ll do it for you! And I promise you won't like my way.” She stood up after their discussion, her patience running dangerously low despite this being the first conversation she's had with Henry all night.
“Henry. Now.” She growled with her sarcastically calm expression, giving Aiden’s father sharp glares. Henry hesitated, then slowly got up and walked to Aiden’s room. This quickly caught Aiden's attention as he began to follow, but he was caught by his mother’s arm. Aiden’s father walked down with the dog in his arms. Home started thrashing and violently snapping as if he knew what was in store. Henry's trembling, weak arms struggled to keep the restless creature in his arms when suddenly the dog bit his finger clean off. He quickly dropped the dog and Home sat there barking and snapping at Aiden’s mother and father, blood smeared around the corners of his lips and a bloody finger laying on the floor beside him. That was all the justification she needed for what she was about to do next. In the Carter household, second chances were fictitious.
“He... bit you… Henry we are putting that damn dog down now… It's the only thing we can do to protect ourselves.” She ordered at her husband with a revolting smile slowly creeping across her lips as she realized the quickest way to get that disgusting creature out of her life for good. Aiden kicked and thrashed against her, but it was to no avail. Nothing he did or could do would help his situation, nor prevent what was coming. Henry looked at her with desperate, glossy eyes. His quivering frame stood beside the black dog, watching as all feeling of hope washed away. 
“You don’t need to put him down!!!” Aiden began to scream as his mother tried yelling over him. The ringing in his ears become intensely louder and louder. He lost control of his body for a moment, but it felt like weeks. He was watching himself. He looked like a monster, or a wild animal. He clawed at his mother's arms and was almost sure of it that she would punish him later for fighting against her, or maybe she'd reward him for 'actually having a backbone' as she would put it. 
“He bit your father!!! It has to be rabid! Henry, take him out back and do it!” She gestured to the backyard. Aiden’s puppet-like father slowly trudged to the backyard with the dog gripped by the back of its neck, hoisted into the air by Henry's good arm. Aiden didn't know what to do anymore. His heart grew heavy as he watched the dog fight with every ounce of its life. Henry bound the dog's fighting legs with a chain and disappeared into the toolshed. 
“NO!!! PLEASE!!! ANYTHING!!! PLEASE!!!” Aiden began crying as his fighting grew weaker and weaker. His heart began to ache as all the energy began to slowly burn away from him. His mother walked over to the window and placed his head against it, leaving him nowhere else to look. 
“Your father, Aiden. He's weak. He'll do whatever I say. ” She said heartlessly, with an emotionless look plastered on her face. The hatchet rose up, then came down. Blood sprayed through the air like rain and the dog’s insides spilled out onto the wet evening grass like worms. Aiden didn't move. Not an blink or breath came from him as he watched the dog's body slowly go completely still. The rattling of the chains from the dog's struggle had stopped. All the noise stopped. It was as if he lived within a frame, and this very snapshot in his life was all that he could see. His heart dropped in his chest completely. His father, the man he loved and trusted, had betrayed him and destroyed his trust in one moment. His mother let go of Aiden then went upstairs, saying good-night to them all. Henry walked inside silently, looking down at the ground with complete and utter remorse.
“Aiden… I’m-” Aiden whipped his hand across his father’s face, tears trailing down his own. Aiden's eyes were bright red and his lip trembled as he screamed at his father, angering himself even more because of the noise.
“WHERE WAS THE FATHER I KNEW WHEN I NEEDED HIM MOST?! WHERE WERE YOU?! YOU SAID YOU’D ALWAYS BE THERE FOR ME!!! WHERE WERE YOU THEN!?” He raised his voice and gestured outside to the hatchet, still stuck into the bloody dirt with the small dog lying next to it. His father gave a defeated expression, knowing nothing he could say or do would make his only child forgive him again. Aiden sank to his knees and sobbed into his hands, trying to muffle the sobs, but they grew louder with each minute. Henry stared at him for a while, wanting to say something. After giving up, he walked away with a guilty feeling burning in his chest.
Aiden had passed out on the floor after crying for a while, when he arose, it was 10:30 at night. He got up, then stumbled to his room. He slowly trudged up the old stairs once again. He shuffled up to his room, sinking down to his knees in front of his bed. He laid his arms down, burying his face into his sleeves. He sobbed, taking in the realization. Home was dead. He howled and cried in anguish, trembling as he gripped his sleeves. He was never really the type of person to openly express himself. He ran his fingers through his black as night hair, holding onto his head. He was afraid if he didn't he might just explode from his anger towards his parents. The ringing started again. Aiden would have taken the hit for Home. He would have skipped lunch, dinner, for God's sake, he would have starved to death for his best friend. He couldn't do anything though. He knew it was going to happen one day, he just didn't know it was going to happen so soon. Slowly, his eyes grew heavy and he fell asleep praying that this day was only just a dream. 
Aiden woke up and walked downstairs, he looked around, waiting for the scratching of tiny paws at the door to come, but they never did. He ate silently having breakfast by himself, holding a piece of greasy bacon between his fingers, ready to drop it for Home, but the wagging tail never hit either of his legs. He was alone. Each day was the same. He woke up, took a shower, ate, and went back to bed, lying in bed until night came. This behavior went on for many weeks. His mother and father didn't notice. It's not like they cared, Aiden would think to himself as he laid underneath his navy blue sheets. His father was nothing but a puppet to his mother, who only cared about her own selfish emotions. It was about three weeks after Home was killed. Aiden sat up and looked out his window. It was raining and pouring outside, puddles were covering his yard. He stood up, walked over to his closet, and picked out a white t-shirt and a pair of grey, stained, and ripped sweat pants. He hurried down his stairs and sat down on the couch. He glanced around and noticed the garage door was open. He sat up and walked to it, peeking his head in. The smell of car oil and the overall musky garage smell filled his nose. His dad sat on an upside down bucket, tinkering with something between his fingers. He noticed Aiden then gave a small smile to him. 	
"Hey Aid, why ya up so early? I was goin' to let ya sleep in fer a while." He shrugged and looked back down at the thing between his father's fingers. Aiden walked over and sat on the ground next to him. He started to shake a little again. Murder. Killer. Traitor. Those words cluttered his thoughts as sat against the cold cement floor. Aiden looked around and took in his new surroundings. He was never really allowed in the garage. It had so many sharp objects, that Aiden could have taken them and stabbed himself or something. They used to be better parents, but they eventually gave up. Why would they bother treating trash like it was worth something?
"Anyway, I'm really sorry 'bout yer dog." His dad mumbling quietly, so if Aiden's mother was around she wouldn't hear. Traitor. Betrayed. Those words slowly began to clutter his vision, on the walls, on the floor, everywhere. Bloody, smeared words against the cold, chipping walls. He began glancing around quickly and stood up, feeling light-headed. A faint ringing began to grow unbearably loud. He looked at his father, his eyes creamy white and blood trickling down his face from his eyes, ears, and nose. Aiden backed up and covered his mouth, trying not to gag from the hideous sight. His father stood up and out stretched a hand towards him. Aiden screamed and squirmed in his grasp, he shut his eyes and shouted. When he opened them, everything was how it used to be. The words were gone, the blood wasn't on his father's cheeks, and his dad's eyes were their usual slate color. 
"Aid?" His father had a concerned expression on his face, with furrowed brows and a frown. Aiden looked at his father, then pushed his hands away from himself. He quickly walked out of the garage, turned the corner, and hurried up his stairs, practically flying up them. He ran to his bed and dove onto it, shutting and covering his eyes. That wasn't real... Was it? He couldn't tell what just happened. He didn't like it though. 
Slowly, Aiden began getting these visions more frequently, each one worse than the last. Every one was accompanied by a chorus of that loathsome ringing. He began going outside to see Home's corpse, which his mother had neglected to clean up. Maggots were pouring out of the eye sockets and battered into the fur. Little bitemarks from nocturnal animals were all over the dog's body, along with chunks of flesh scattered across the yard from scavengers who couldn't carry all they had taken. He scooped up the half-decomposed body and walked inside. He walked to his room and sat on his bed, running his fingers through the hair like he used to. He would sleep with the dog's corpse, then hid it under his bed when morning came. Sleeping with the dog brought him the same joy he used to have. It's like... he isn't even gone, Aiden though to himself. 
His mother noticed something was wrong, but she was too frugal to pay for therapy or even bother taking him anywhere. Aiden slowly began rotting away, just like Home. His actions and words became slurred and barely understandable. If his mother said anything to him, it would take minutes for him to acknowledge her or respond. He was holding both his mother and father responsible for Home's death. Betrayed. Betrayed. The words began circling around the room almost everyday now. It was 10:48 on a Saturday night. His parents were sound asleep in bed. Not a sound echoed throughout the still house. 
"He was weak after all, wasn't he? So... I... It would be his fault! Weak beings don't belong in our world!" He took out the puppy's body, gripping it firmly, and shaking it violently. The dog's limp body hung in his hands, maggots dropping on his rug with little notice from Aiden. He dropped the body into a heap on his floor, kicking it with his foot. 
"Y-YOU DESERVE TO DIE! YOU DESERVED IT! YOU WERE WEAK! YOU ARE NOTHING!" He dropped the corpse and looking around. Something shining outside caught his eye. The now rusted chains and the hatchet stuck into the ground. He walked downstairs and out the door, towards both. He pulled the hatchet out of the ground, holding it firmly in one hand. He raised it up, letting the sunlight reflect off its rusted and stained blade. He wrapped the chains over his shoulder, letting part of it dangle loosely from his arm. He glanced back at his house. He opened the door wide, then walked around making sure he was correct about them both being sound asleep. He slowly creaked up the stairs. Silent and stealthy. Not only did he love silence, but he was good at being silent. He peeked open their door, finding them both sleeping silently. He unwrapped the chain from his arm and wrapped it around their necks, wrapping one end firmly to a bedpost. A soft ringing began. They were caught like flies in a web. Just like his poor dog was those few weeks ago.
"...The weak don't belong here... The weak don't belong here. The weak don't belong here!" His whispers slowly grew into shouts. As their eyelids fluttered open, he pulled the chain tightly, forcing both of their bodies to go tense and flail for their lives. The ringing grew louder and louder until he couldn't hear anything else. He began mercilessly driving the axe over and over through their bodies, the sounds of their screaming and fighting were completely drowned out by the ringing. Hacking over and over until. He grinned widely as his eyes began shaking violently at the sight. His face was pale and bloodstained, with his slate eyes staring at the dead corpses. His t-shirt was torn and blood was painted across it from his sloppy work. His grey sweat pants hung loosely against his frame, which were dirty from going outside without shoes. Aiden slowly backed up out of their room, slamming the door. He was hyping himself up. He screamed and yelled, finally free from all he endured. That witch and her puppet. He looked around, then ran down the hallway. He grabbed his dog's corpse off the floor, tucked it into a bag along with a handful of clothes, and practically jumped down the stairs. He glanced at himself in the mirror. A tall, slender, bloodied boy, with pale skin, and charcoal black hair was staring wildly at him. He shakily walked over and threw the hatchet into the mirror, sending shards flying like stars through sky. He laughed at the young man who used to be standing before him.
"Is it too tough out there for you? Stay inside with the rest of these weak pathetic people, your time has come to an end." As he turned out the door he laughed to himself, twirling the chains in a circle and holding the hatchet in one hand.
Neighbors from the other houses came to visit days after, finding the mess that used to be known as the Carter household. A young girl, Mary, held tightly onto her mother's hand as she looked at the house, she was too young to understand what was going on still, but she wasn't allowed to stay home alone. After her mother and father surveyed the outside of the house nosily, they all went home. They didn't speak a word of what happened again. They ate dinner together, having chicken at Mary's request and went on with their lives as if nothing had happened.
“Mommy? Can we go back to see Linda tomorrow?” Mary chirped as she asked her mother happily.
“Yes, we can if Linda and her mother aren't busy, make sure you brush your teeth then go to bed.” Her mother answered and walked to her own room. The small girl’s footsteps hurried up the stairs and ran into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and gave a toothy grin in the mirror after she was finished. She walked to her room, then stopped in the doorway when she saw a dark figure standing in the corner. Light shone off chains which were tightly wrapped around the figure's arm.
“...Is anyone there…?” She walked hesitantly into her room. “C-Can I help you?” The figure stood up walked over and slowly wrapped the chains around her neck. 
“No... Weak people can’t even help themselves…” He pulled the chains steadfast, ensnaring her. He picked up the axe, slamming it down as the little girl's struggled gasps came to a sharp silence.
Category:Mental Illness