Madness

Chapter 3

~The strongest souls are those tempered
by suffering. The most solid
characters are littered with scars. ~

The next morning I was jolted awake by the roar of a car that made me look quickly out the window: I saw a purple Lamborghini barreling down the driveway and Steve trying to catch up with the raging car. The gates opened before the car could crash through them, and the vehicle launched itself into the street, plunging into the oncoming lane and forcing cars to stop. The sound of honking horns filled the air, along with the rumble of the car as it quickly disappeared from view. Steve continued to look in the direction of the vehicle, running a hand through his hair, and when he saw me looking out the window, he blanched, gave me a small, embarrassed smile, and then walked back out. When I came out, I found Stephanie running after her brother, who was about to go upstairs, and I instinctively hid behind a pillar and listened to their conversation.

"Where is he going?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't know, okay? And I don't even care! He can even kill himself for me."

Steve was about to go upstairs when Stephanie yanked him angrily, forcing him to turn around and pointing her finger at him so menacingly that it sent shivers down my spine.

"Pray nothing happens to him or I'll make you pay for all your sins."

He made her lower her arm by slapping it with his, then moved his body closer to his sister.

"You do not threaten me."

Before she could counter, he climbed the last few steps as the woman ran after him.

"Don't you care about him at all?"

She yelled after him but got no response, only the sound of a door slamming as she turned to see me hiding, trying to calm her breathing. She looked at me in confusion and then addressed me.

"What are you... what are you doing here?"

"I heard you arguing and..."

"It doesn't matter at this point."

She also went to her room and barricaded herself inside, I went downstairs and went to the kitchen and found Margaret doing the dishes. I sat down on a stool, grabbed a cloth, and began to dry the dishes.

"You don't have to, miss!"

"Don't worry, I'll be happy to."

While helping her, I took the opportunity to ask her what had happened this morning, and although she was vague, I noticed a strange pain in her eyes that made my heart clench.

"Stephanie and Steve have barricaded themselves in the room."

"They are divided by a different love: one loves him and the other hates him, but don't think Steve doesn't feel anything for him, because sometimes hate is another side of love."

"Love... who?"

"Douglas."

"Who is... Douglas?"

"Douglas is..."

"...my brother."

We both turned as soon as we heard her voice as she slowly approached us.

"He is my father's second son and the only one of us who witnessed our mother's murder."

"I'm sorry..."

But before I could finish the word, Stephanie continued.

"He was about 7 years old and I was 3 months old, we were walking on Christmas Eve to do our last shopping when a drunk hobo attacked us, Douglas hid behind our mother and he snatched the diamond necklace from her and, before she could do anything, he shot her. My mother fell to the ground and I hit my head so hard that one of my eyes changed color." I felt tears welling up at such a tragic story as she told it so naturally. "My brother picked me up and held me until help arrived. At the police station, he was the one who made the statement before our father and brother arrived." She looked me steadily in the eyes, hers cold, mine hesitant as I listened to her story. "I don't remember anything, but Douglas does, he remembers everything perfectly: he remembers the pain, his mother slumped lifeless on the ground, the blood flowing like a red river, the guilt for not being able to intervene. We all try to help him, but it's as hard for him as it is for us. Steve and Douglas hate each other and that's why they don't get along, sometimes I think Steve doesn't care about him."

"No Steph, that is not true! He loves him but in his own way."

"I hope so!"

I felt compassion for this boy that I still did not know, as a child I believed that there was no worse tragedy in the world than the death of my father but, at this moment, I understood that it was not so. She looked at me again with those expressive eyes that seemed to touch your soul.

"I'm sorry to have upset you."

"No... it's okay."

I said, shaking my head vigorously.

"If you want, we can go riding."

"I don't know how to ride."

"That's okay, I'll teach you."

We went to the stables and found many thoroughbreds, I watched them in wonder as I approached a white one with a black spot across its forehead and petted it.

"They are beautiful."

"This stable was built by our father for Douglas, he loved to ride horses."

We scrolled down and found more wonderful horses: there were beautiful specimens, the hair was shiny, as was the coat, and they had such sweet eyes that seemed to welcome you. But as soon as we reached the last one, it whinnied and kicked in its cage, reared up, and knocked me to the ground in fright. Stephanie immediately stepped in and was able to calm the stallion down and later help me up.

"I'm sorry if it scared you, this is my brother's horse and it doesn't let anyone near it but him."

"Oh relax, I'm fine."

The horse was extraordinary, the most beautiful of all the horses present. It was so dark black that its coat could have trapped the sunlight. It had green eyes that looked like emerald gems and seemed to have fire in them. It continued to rise, its flowing hair fluttering in the air. For a second, my eyes met its and it almost seemed as if it wanted to tell me something. Stephanie helped me up and approached another gorgeous white horse who, unlike the other, seemed very pleased to see my friend.

"This is Lucy, my horse, it's very calm, don't worry. Shall we go?"

"Yes, Stephanie, we go."

"Call me Steph, everybody does."

"Thank you, Steph."

She smiled at me and unhitched the horse, mounted it, and held out her hand to help me up. As soon as I grabbed it, she set the horse into a gallop, and I screamed in surprise, clinging to the waist of the woman who was riding the horse, who instantly burst into laughter at my gesture.

"I'm sorry if I startled you."

"Go slower!"

"But then there is no fun."

She led it at a trot as I slowly relaxed and began to enjoy myself. As we walked, she showed me the blue gardens due to the presence of numerous roses that gave off an intense scent. The path continued with other varieties of flowers, some even rare ones that I had never seen before. Amidst the colors of the flowers were spectacular white marble statues. They were incredibly beautiful: some depicted satyrs and nymphs playing with each other, others beautifully depicted gods and goddesses. I returned late in the afternoon to get ready for dinner with Steve. I wore a simple little black dress and tied my hair in a messy bun, leaving two curls framing my face, and used a carmine red to paint my lips. I walked slowly down the stairs to the place where we had agreed to meet. As soon as he saw me, he smiled, stepped in front of me, and kissed my hand.

"You are beautiful!"

I smiled back at him and he opened the car's door for me to get in. Just as we were heading for the gate, the Lamborghini pulled back in. I turned sharply and looked out the window: I saw Steph running to hug the man who had gotten out, who returned the hug, but just as I was about to see his face I felt a hand squeeze my knee.

"Don't pay any attention to him Arte, he's not worth it!"

I turned to look ahead, wondering if I had made the right decision to come here.