eighteen

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Sage and Sam didn't speak, they let the silence fill the air as they stared at a poster on the girls wall. The older boy didn't have a chance to process Joshua being back in town, he had people depending on him. So as the witching hour approached him, he found himself tiptoeing to Sage's room, to the only person who understood the thoughts racing through his mind. She knew the anger, the fear, and the utter devastation mixing in his veins, after all it was the same thing that replaced her blood.

For a moment in time they were back to being young, running off to their grandmothers house whenever things got loud, escaping into silence as glass shattered against a wall a few blocks away.  In moments like this, all they truly had was each other. Despite all the stretches of lost contact and hatred, they were each others anchor, preventing each other from drifting out to sea, floating towards something they couldn't come back from. The house had never been this silent, the boys were off patrolling or sleeping in their own beds, there were no floorboards creaking as someone snuck to get water. Sage's head landed on Sam's shoulder and he felt as his shoulder became a puddle. No words passed, just the silence carrying over a promise.

They watched as the sun slowly rose, and their eyes got darker, listening as the noise slowly returned back into the four walls, making it less a cemetery and more a home. The crickets went quiet and the frogs gave up chirping, their songs being tossed into the abyss never to be heard again. As Sage's eyes fluttered closed, Sam released a sigh pushing his feelings down as he prepared to face the choir. When the older boy got downstairs, he froze at the sight of a disheveled Paul. Sam nodded at him before launching into his typical activities.

Sage had never been a good coper. She became a lifeless body the second something happened, she didn't allow herself to feel anything, she just watched as things happened through foggy lenses. She skipped therapy, skipped school, checked off all the missed meals and listened as things passed her by. She was sure her peers thought her to be dead, maybe Joshua had finally won, she'd become the daughter he'd attempted to make her.

Her phone sat beside her, unread texts and missed calls pilling up. Her therapist, Kim, Quil, Charlie, Billy, Alison, Joy, Tiffany, and several others fading away in her mind, crumbling into people who didn't exist. Her door stayed locked, a firm and invisible do not enter sign hung up. Isolation was always her cure. Isolate yourself, no one likes a sad girl, no one likes a pity party.

Her hair was greasy from her nightly terrors, and her skin was coated in a layer of sweat but she couldn't find it in herself to care. She was her own burden, no one else's. She faintly heard the front door slam, and hurried steps coming up the stairs, she heard the persistent knocks on her door, but treated them as a background noise. they'll go away eventually, at some point everyone gets tired of trying to help.

Sage was proven right when she heard the frustrated release of carbon dioxide and the sound of retreating feet. As the house quieted down, she unlocked the door before wrapping herself around in her fuzziest blanket. When Sam entered she glanced at him, slowly taking the plate of food when he held it out. She slowly ate, allowing the silence to float around them, when the plate was half finished she set it on her nightstand, and turned towards Sam.

"Why didn't you come with me, when i moved to grandma's?" Her throat was scratchy and her voice cut in and out. The boy turned towards her and shrugged before looking towards a photo of them with Alison. Sage followed his gaze and found herself nodding, understanding the words he couldn't formulate. She gently closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel for one moment.

"When does it get easier." Though her eyes stayed closed she just knew the boy had once again shrugged. What she didn't know was that he didn't trust his voice, whether it be fear of anger morphing into an unplanned shift, or the immediate flood of tears. Sam had always been the man of the house, even when Joshua was around,  He'd always stayed strong, so that his sister and his mother didn't have to. That was the burden Joshua had forced him to take on at 3 years old.

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