Lullaby | Brahms Heelshire |

Chapter 14

Sleepyhead, close your eyes,
   I woke up to find that Brahms was gone and had been replaced by a pillow. I slowly sat up and stared at the vacant spot next to me. when did he leave? Daylight peaked in through the bottom of the curtains and I yawned, wondering how early it was. I couldn't even remember falling asleep. The last thing that I could recall was resting my head on Brahm's chest and listening to his heart beat.
   I lifted my arms into the air to do a quick stretch before jumping out of bed. I needed to find Brahms so that I could thank him again. What he did last night was the most beautiful thing a person could do for me. As I turned the corner out of my room, loud music suddenly erupted from down stairs. Brahms was in the study room. I rushed to the main floor, my steps were in sync to 'Nisi Dominus:IV', the song that Brahms was playing. The haunting melodic tone seemed to make the house appear eerie. I entered the study room and quickly had to cover my ears. The music was blaring! No! I thought as I rushed to adjust the volume of the record player, Brahms must have been in the walls.
   My ears sighed in  relief as the music played more softly. Maybe Brahms would come around to see whyI had turned down the music. The song continued to play and I couldn't help but sing along.
Cum dederit dilectis suis
somnum
Ecce hereditas Domini filii
mercis fructus ventris.
   I heard a faint squeak of a door opening followed by footsteps. I turned to find Brahms enter the room holding something coral in his arms. "Hey!" I exclaimed. Seeing his face... Well his masked face made me brighten inside. "Good morning." His response was short and formal. I took a few steps closer to him and awkwardly intertwined my fingers behind my back. "Brahms. I would just like to say thanks. Again. What you did last night was incredibly kind." Brahms responded with a small nod. "You're welcome."
   I smiled at him and my eyes flicked to the fabric in his arms. "What's that?" I asked leaning in a little bit to get a closer look. Brahms took a second to respond, probably pondering what he was going to say. "It's for you." His voice was quiet when he finally did speak. He held out the coral fabric and it unraveled to reveal a dress.
   I took a step back, genuinely surprised. "For me?" I smiled and looked into his eyes. He held the dress out, looking eggar for me to take it. I reached out and gently took the dress. "What is this for?" I asked, smiling at the lovely little thing.
   "You gave me new clothes so I thought that I could give you a new dress." He stated.
   I smiled and held the dress up to my body to simulate wearing it. "Thank you", I looked up at him "It's very lovely."
   A sinking feeling suddenly erupted in my gut and I suddenly was aware of the problem that had just taken place. "Brahms?" I asked lowering the dress from my body. "Where did you get this?" I had almost forgotten that Brahms didn't leave the house. I doubt that he snuck off for secret shopping trips while I was away. How did he have the dress? Brahms didn't have a sister. Was it his mothers? I very much doubted that it could be Mrs Heelshire's. Was there another woman that had been here once?
Emily Cribbs. Her name flittered around my mind like a ghost. No, it couldn't have been her. That was years ago.
   "Brahms?" I asked again. I knew that he had heard me, he just didn't want to respond. He looked at his toes for a second then looked back up to me. "It's time for you to wake Brahms up." He said before turning and disappearing around the corner.
   I stared at the fabric in my hands, my mind was racing. Why did he have this? I searched inside the dress and found two papery tags. So he didn't make it. I tried to shake my skepticism out of my head. Brahms made a sweet gesture, I should just accept his gift.
~*~
   After I showered and had gotten ready, I sat with the Brahms doll at the table. I just stared at the plate of food in front of it. Why was I doing this? Brahms was alive, the doll was a doll. I knew that I had promised myself to be patient, but I wasn't going to take care of a doll.
   I took the plate of food and stored it in the fridge, for later, and walked out of the kitchen. Leaving the doll at the table. I wanted to confront Brahms and tell him that I wasn't going to be taking care of a doll. But in a house this size it was hard to figure out where he would be. Especially since he hung out in the walls. So I decided to wait for him to appear to tell him.
   I wandered into the room with the bookshelf. I had a late shift today so I was planning on running to pick up some books before work. I looked across the shelves, reading the titles. I wanted to make sure that I wouldn't get books that we already had. As I searched the spines, a small hidden book caught my eye. It seemed out of place near the shelf of big books. I reached into the shelf and pulled the small book out. It was surprisingly heavy in my hand. The covers were made of hazel brown leather and was stamped with a rose.
   I flipped open the small book and found scribbles of cursive handwriting inside. I gasped excitedly. This was a journal. I fanned through the crisp yellowing pages till I landed on the inside front cover. The name Margret Heelshire was written in the very center of the page. Was this Brahm's mothers'?
   Hope suddenly sparked inside me. What if this was it? What if this little book held the answers to all my questions?
   A grin spread across my face. I heard a creak from somewhere inside the house and nearly jumped. I didn't want Brahms to know that I had found it. I quickly rushed upstairs and tucked the journal in my purse. My heart fluttered. Maybe I didn't need to wait for Brahms to tell me anything. Maybe I had all the answers in the palm of my hands.
~*~
November 13, 1996
   When Emily didn't come back to the house with Brahms, I didn't put much thought as to where she had gone. When I asked my son the location of her whereabouts, he simply told me that she had gone. And I believed him. Brahms was always such an honest child. And I took pride in that. He was my perfect little boy. Emily must have felt ill and walked home. However the walk was far to get to her home, but I didn't think about that at the time.
   It was around dinner time when I received a call from Mrs Cribbs. She sounded so worried. She told me that Emily hadn't returned home, and it was getting quite late. I apologized to the poor woman, and explained to her that her daughter had left hours ago. I remember looking over to my son and I found him intently staring at the phone. There was a corrupt smile on his face.
   And that is when I suspected that something was wrong.
   The moment I hung up the telephone I demented my son to tell me what had really happened. He just answered me in this little sweet voice. "She didn't want to play with me anymore mummy." My heart cried out for my perfect little boy to give me answers. "Oh Brahms what have you done?" I fell to my knees and took hold of his tiny shoulders. He looked at me with his beautiful honest eyes. "She didn't follow the rules mummy." Sadness and dread for poor Emily came upon me. "Brahms!" I shouted pulling my hand back and swinging it at him. His face remained perfectly still. Un affected by my punishment for him. His cheek began to burn a flushed red.
   "What did you do Brahms?" My sons perfect eyes seemed to shine. "I hit her. I hit her until she stopped screaming. Because she didn't follow the rules." His small mouth curved upward. "Brahms how dare you! It is not your place to punish people. You have done something very bad."
   My son's eyes widened "But she was mine! She was mine and she didn't follow the rules. She needed to be punished!" I was unsure of what to do next. "She was bad! She had to be punished!" He kept shouting.
   It pained me to look at my son. They were going to take this away from me. They would soon discover that Emily was dead, and they would take Brahms from me. My perfect little boy. It wasn't fair. I wasn't going to let them take him.
   Me and Henry decided that if  the police questioned us, we would deny that Brahms had done anything. After all, there were no witnesses to testify against him. So how would he be proven guilty?
   It was when I got a phone call from the police that I began to get nervous. They informed me that they would be coming to question Brahms. They had finally found Emily's body in the woods near our home. Her skull had been smashed.
   As soon as I hung up the telephone, I rushed to find Brahms. I informed him that the police would be arriving soon and that we quickly had to make up a story. He kept telling me no. That Emily had been bad and that he needed to punish her. I told him that if he told that to the police, they would take him away.
   He became so worked up that he finally shouted "She needed to be punished!" And then slammed his tiny fist on the table.
   I watched in horror at what happened next.
   A long candle that had been sitting on the small table he hit, tipped over. It seemed to fall in slow motion on to Brahm's right shoulder. Flames erupted from his linen coat and reached right up to his perfect face. He screamed a scream that will haunt me for the rest of my life.