Dimmed Lights Flicker Novels & Stories

Three years earlier, my adoptive parents were arrested for human trafficking, and the police finally tracked down my biological family. However, tragedy struck before they could bring me home. They were involved in a car accident on their way to pick me up. My parents and younger sister were killed instantly. Only my older brother, Derrick, survived because he had been working overtime that night. Not long after the accident, he was diagnosed with ALS. When we finally met, hatred filled his eyes. “If it were not for you, our family would still be together.” From that moment, I carried the weight of three deaths on my shoulders. I also took responsibility for the debt left behind by the accident, along with the rest of Derrick’s life. I dropped out of school and worked four jobs at the same time. When I felt hungry, I survived on cheap bread. When I became sick, I endured it and kept going. Every dollar I earned went toward Derrick’s medication. For three years, that was my life. Until one day, while delivering food to a private club, I saw the person who was supposed to be bedridden at home, waiting for me to turn him over in bed. Derrick. He stood beside a billiards table with a cue in his hand. His movements were smooth, precise, and completely free. No trace of illness could be seen. He struck the cue ball cleanly. One of his friends laughed and said, “Derrick, you have been faking ALS for three years. Even if this was a test, do you not think it has gone on long enough?” Derrick lined up another shot without looking up. “Harriet was raised by traffickers for ten years. No one knows what she learned from them. How could we bring her back into the Lawson family without testing her first? “Besides, Sheila was terrified that we would abandon her once we found our real family. She cried about it more than once. We needed to give her time to adjust.” A flicker of discomfort crossed his friend’s face. “However, Harriet has worked herself to the bone to pay for your treatment.” Another ball dropped into a pocket. Derrick smiled, pleased with himself. “Sheila and my parents are flying back tomorrow. Once they arrive, I will arrange for Harriet to return to the Lawson family. After that, I will make it up to her.” I lowered my head as a burning sensation rose inside my nose. A mechanical voice suddenly echoed in my mind. [Congratulations, Host. The Obsession Commission has been completed. Would you like to claim your reward?] I wiped away the blood that trickled from my nose. “Yes,” I replied quietly. “Claim it.” In three days, I would finally be going home. The Lawson family had never been the home I wanted.

When I drink the amber-colored poisonous wine, I can hear the joyful melody of a toast song coming from the manor. The wedding between Emanuela Romano and my ex-fiance, Benedetto Martini, is being held there right now. The elderly butler, Vincenzo Romano, puts away the wine glass with a blank expression. The way he speaks is as somber as one sounds when they give a speech at a funeral. "You know the Don's will very well, Ms. Andreotti. Five years are officially up, yet neither Mr. Andreotti, Mr. Martini, nor Dr. Foscari is willing to pledge their loyalty to you via the blood vow. According to the rules, you must take your own life within seven days. "The Don had left the Ashwine to you as a means of protecting… what little pride you have." Scorching pain begins spreading from my throat. I just smile at Vincenzo in return. Pride? Does a bastard spawn of a loose Iernian woman deserve to retain pride of any sort in the cruel Andreotti family? I begin making my way toward the banquet hall, which is brightly lit. As I walk past the shimmering waters of the pond in the family garden, I can tell that the waters are insanely cold. Then again, nothing is as cold as my icy heart right now. After taking a deep breath, I fall face-first into the pond… only to feel an iron-clad grip wrenching me backward. As such, I collapse onto the lawn heavily. My older brother, Alessandro Andreotti, has bits of grass covering his expensive suit. Disgust is written all over his handsome face. "Eva!" he grits out through his teeth, his voice lowered. "Must you spoil the mood on Emanuela's big day?" He then scoots closer to me, his alcohol-tinged breath fanning over my face. "You want to die, huh? Go ahead and do that, but can you die somewhere further? Don't stain the Andreotti land!" Alessandro turns to walk in the direction of the radiant lights, leaving me on the lawn, completely covered in mud. I can feel the countdown of my lifespan burning my insides. Seven days… I only have seven days to live. Meanwhile, my very own brother wants me to die somewhere further away.

I paid Curtis Robinett 200 thousand dollars a month to be a standby blood donor. My fiancée, Eden May, thought it was a waste of money. So she reassigned him to work part-time as her personal assistant instead. When Curtis accidentally submitted my marriage license appointment as a divorce filing for the 99th time, I kicked open Eden's office door. She didn't even look up. "We're in no rush to get married anyway," she said calmly. "Curtis is just careless. That's how he's always been." Later, in the emergency room, I called Eden while doctors rushed around me, my throat shredded from yelling. "Where's my emergency medical kit?" I rasped. "What did you do with it?" Curtis answered instead, his voice warm and smug. "You mean the expensive leather bag you kept in the cabinet? I swapped it out for a large party snack box. It holds everything just fine, and honestly, it looks a lot more cheerful. "Ms. May's brother and sister-in-law are both career soldiers. Your bag didn't really match that image, so I thought this would be more appropriate." My vision dimmed. My hands shook as I told Curtis to come donate blood. Eden laughed softly and cut in, "Stop pretending you're anemic just to get attention. If you're actually sick, deal with it. You're at the hospital; I think the doctors are fully capable of keeping you alive. Curtis is afraid of needles. He's not coming." Then, she hung up. She didn't appear until the surgical lights finally went dark. "Curtis had me bring you chocolate milk," she said. "It's good for recovery. It's not that he didn't want to help. He just faints at the sight of blood." She placed a settlement waiver on my bed. "I was the one who told him not to come. That 200-thousand-dollar monthly salary is his pay as my assistant. It has nothing to do with you. You didn't have to call the police for that. Sign this, and I'll go get the marriage license with you." I thought of what I had just seen in the operating room. Eden's brother, Harvey May, was bleeding out on the operating table, waiting for a lifesaving drug that never came. In the final moments of surgery, he could do nothing but lie there and die. I looked at her and said evenly, "You're the immediate family. It's not my place to sign that."