The Bitter Truth
"Greg, he blamed himself, but I didn't believe it was really his fault. He was very upset. And at the hospital, he was genuinely worried."
"Dad, there's something really wrong with Don. When the wasps just started stinging me, I heard him. He was happy about it. And when I first started school, he played a really mean prank. I still don't know how he did it."
Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds had just experienced the worst time of their lives. Their youngest child had been in a coma for four days, and one night. And when he finally woke up, he insisted it was his brother's fault.
"I need to go see the doctor for a minute, but your Mom will be here. I'll be right back. Are you sure you don't want me to call Don?"
"Please no, can't we wait a while longer?" he pleaded. He looked scared.
"Of course, whatever you want." Casey Reynolds said soothingly. He gently closed the door.
"Doctor Stephens, could he be mixed up? He seems to remember the accident in detail, but I think he has it wrong."
"That's entirely possible. There are cases of people filling in the gaps with what was most likely to be the truth. False memories, or Confabulation are a lot more common than people realize."
"But he's not even close. He's blaming his big brother for the accident."
"I don't know. We can run some tests. But in the end, we might never know for sure. For now, I suggest that you do everything you can to avoid stressing him. He could have a relapse."
"Of course. Greg's health is my first priority."
"And there is the chance that he's right. It could be as simple as a misunderstanding between the two, or there might be something more sinister going on. There have been cases of children doing terrible things, but it's relatively uncommon."
"Not my son. Don would never deliberately harm his brother. When they were little, Don grabbed and ate a whole package of bitter apple gummies which they were supposed to share. When I asked him why he did it, he said he didn't want his brother to have anything that bitter."
"I don't know him, so I can't advise you in that area. I can just suggest that you don't do anything which might upset Greg. Even if this means keeping his brother away from him."
"I talked to the doctor, Greg. He wants to do more tests, but it seems that you are well on your way to recovery!"
"You didn't call Don, did you?" he asked, fear in his eyes.
"No, and I won't until you want me to."
"Thanks Dad." said the tired child, relief flooding through him.
Meanwhile, Don and Taspirin had been very busy in their own neighborhood. John, the kid down the street, was only a casual acquaintance. And in all honesty, he was terrified of Don. This made it easy to obtain an alibi when the occasion called for it. In this case, an alibi which allowed Don to stay home alone.
He didn't exactly stay home though... There was too much mischief for two demons to stir up in the sleepy suburban neighborhoods.
For the first couple of days, they stuck to fairly tame entertainment. A few broken windows several blocks over, with firecrackers attached to the rocks. Some prank calls to 911 from a phone he stole from an old lady on a bus going downtown. A few car wrecks, mostly Taspirin's idea.
After that it became gradually worse, leading up to the big event. "What do we have here, Taspirin? An empty house? I wonder where the Petersons are? Maybe we should just go in, and make sure they turned off the oven."
"Woooof!" exclaimed the demon possessed puppy. His tail began to wag as his eyes glowed like hot coals.
Don looked under the mat. Sure enough, there was the key. He took a quick look around, then opened the door. Once inside, he went directly to the kitchen.
"Let's see what we can do to help fix the place up. And maybe bake some cookies for a welcome home treat." he said with an evil grin.
He turned the oven all the way up, then placed a cookie sheet in - with a dish towel featuring chocolate chip cookies. Meanwhile, Taspirin was gnawing on the cord of an unplugged lamp.
Don closed the oven door. Then he looked around. He put some leftovers from the fridge in the microwave. Along with a metal spoon. He set it for ten minutes. He checked the stove, and turned off the pilot light. The gas was still sizzling softly.
"What did you find? Oh, you think we should shed some light on the situation? Let me help you." he said, plugging it in, sparks erupting.
Don then locked the door on their way out, and went home. It was at the other end of the block, but the demon possessed child was confident that he would know when the excitement happened.
And he did. If the loud boom wasn't enough, the bright lights and sirens were a dead giveaway. He waited until the neighbors began to trickle out, and joined them.
The results were impressive. The place was leveled, and pieces of it had flown quite a distance. He and Taspirin looked at each other. It had been a thorough job.
"Did you see anything unusual, Ma'am?" asked an older policeman. He looked like a real veteran.
"No Sir, but my security camera also covers the front door. I didn't have a chance to look at it, but here's the file." replied the middle aged lady. She handed him a USB stick.
Don froze. He slowly backed away, and ran home. Immediately, he packed up his things. And all of his mother's heirloom jewelry, as well as his father's Rolex watch. And to top it off, he turned off the pilot light of the stove in his kitchen.
This is a 100% power up post
Original Fractal artwork by me, edited in Canva