(Chris' POV)
"Mom?" I whisper out to her as I help her sit up. She doesn't say anything and her eyes stay looking at nothing. Her expression is blank.
My eyes are withdrawn and my face heats up, knowing that she's not the same as she was before. Don sits down nexts to me and wipes my tears that I had no idea escaped my eyes.
"What have I done," I ask, letting the tears fall.
This is the most feeling I have felt in a while and it's all crushing me.
"It's your fault, Chris," Sybil says, standing over me. My blood boils. Can't she see this isn't the right time?
"Fuck you, Sybil," I scream at her and that's when I finally snap. I finally remember I'm not supposed to be her little puppet.
I think Don snaps too because he stands up and in a flash, he's right in front of Sybil.
He grabs her by the neck and squeezes. Her face freezes in shock.
"It's partially my fault because I made a deal with you in the beginning in return for helping me get Chris back. I regret it now, but I won't let you control us anymore," he says in a deadly tone.
"Don, you know I would never hurt you guys on pur-" she tries to speak, but Don cuts her off by squeezing her neck harder.
"Shut up. I'm really trying hard not to kill you right now. We're done with your manipulation. You should burn in hell," he growls at her.
Sybil's begging turns into laughter and she puts a smirk on her face.
"Fine. Have it your way," she says. She blows me a kiss and disappears out of thin air.
"You should've snapped her neck," I tell Don and he frowns.
With all the new silence, there's nothing else to focus on, but my vegetable mother.
"I'm so sorry, mom. I should have never did this. You were in paradise and peace with all our ancestors, and I just ripped you out and brung you back down to this hell."
She doesn't answer. She doesn't tell me it's ok and that everything will be alright. She doesn't hold me.
My mother is gone and I'm not getting her back. Others had to suffer for me to realize that and I will never forgive myself.
"Don, hand me that knife." The knife that Sybil used for the spell, to bind her and Don, taunts me. The same knife that brought my mother back is going to send her back to where she belongs.
"Are you sure," he asks and I nod my head. He walks to it and picks it up as if it's fragile and will break any second.
He hands it to me and I skim my fingers over the designs. It's small and sharp. I prick my finger. It looks crafted out of diamonds.
"I guess I shouldn't let you suffer any longer." I suck up my sobs and lay my mother on her back again. I think I can even see joy in her eyes now. She wants to go back. This is the right thing to do.
"Let's not drag this on then," I whisper to her. "I know you were never really one for patience or wasting time."
I place the blade on the side of her head and get ready to drive it through her skull.
Don sits back down next to me and rubs my back. The gesture makes me start crying again, but I wipe them away and focus.
"3,2,1-"
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I open my eyes to see an open window. It's slightly open to let in some breeze and the sun shines through. The baby blue curtains float in the air.
This scene reflects the exact opposite of how I feel inside. A storm brews inside my head even though I'm now the only person that has control of it now.
I don't hear the persistent ringing of a dog whistle to obey commands, but now I feel dead. I should be dead, but I know that's the guilt and shame talking.
Waking up from a bad dream doesn't feel like a relief anymore when all I dream about is the worst memory of my life.
Where the hell am I? I haven't even fully taken in that I'm not in some old cave filled with the ashes of the ones I've killed.
Christian and-
"You're up," I hear a voice say. I don't bother to turn, but the voice can only be one person.
I hear footsteps coming around from the other side of the bed. Legs come into my view and then the person bends down and I see Greg's face.
Another person I've let down.
"How am I here," is the first thing I ask him. He sits down on the bed next to my legs.
"I brought you here. Alaric and I were on our way to find you and Don. We spotted Don carrying you and walking on the side of the road."
I look at him and his eyes look sincere. It pisses me off.
"That's not what I meant. Why haven't you killed me already?"
He doesn't answer, seeming even more sad about what I said.
"Why would I kill you, Chris? It's not your fault any of this happened. You didn't even have control of your own mind."
I get up into a sitting position on the bed and send him an angry glare.
"How would you know that? I came into your house and killed Christian with my own hands. Even if I were being mind controlled, I still felt joy after doing it. I felt joy taking commands and that makes me guilty."
"Chris, Don told me everything that happened. It's not your fault. You couldn't have done anything against it."
"I could have fought back," I scream at him. I want him to get angry at me, but it's not working.
"You were vulnerable. You're mom died and you missed her. Anyone in your position would have done the same. I would have easily given over control of my mind to get Josephine back."
"Not if it made her suffer and you had to kill her after you only had her back for a couple of minutes."
It's my final scream to make him hate me, but it doesn't work. His eyes still hold sympathy.
I break. I cry. I scream, but all he does is pull me close and holds me.
Like my mother used to do.
"It's all going to be alright. I promise," he says and I chuckle bitterly.
"How would you know," I ask him. There's no way anything can be fixed now.
"Because Anne's back. The pieces will start coming together now. And with the new baby, there will be a new beginning."
When he says that, I kind of do feel a new chapter beginning.