Tomorrow Will Be Kinder (Watty Awards 2012)

II: Repercussions

My vision is blurred from all the drenched ringlets of black sticking to my face. 

Gingerly, I peel one off and study it. Completely soaked through, as usual, hanging limply from my wrinkled fingers. I watch as water droplets make their way down the thick, dark fibres until they drop off and fall eighty centimetres to the ground. 

I wish I had my camera here. Capturing videos the falling of the water droplets in slow motion would get me an A+ on my photography assignment for sure. 

Not that it mattered or anything now, though. 

A bitter grimace spread across my face. 

Damn her. 

Damn her to hell and back. 

Why did she have to come back? 

Why? 

What had I done to deserve this? 

Angrily, I yank my vibrating phone out of my pocket and glance at the caller ID. An image comes up, of a girl smiling at the camera, long dark hair falling across her shoulders, and bright blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight. 

Incoming call from: Desirée

Sighing, I reluctantly hit the ‘ignore’ button and shove the phone back in my pocket. I hate blowing off my eldest sister, but I really don’t feel like talking to anyone now. 

At all. 

Don’t get me wrong. I love Desy, I really do. She’s the best sister anyone could ask for. Kind, loving, generous, sensible and supportive. Although she has hundreds of modelling and acting jobs around the world every year, she always manages to stay in touch with me every day. We call, text, email, Skype… you name it; we’re always talking to each other. I don’t know what I’d do without her, and I hate being rude and ignoring her calls when she’s only just trying to help me. 

Which is why, when I feel my phone buzz again, I frown deeply and pull it out once more. 

One voicemail from: Desirée

Sighing again, I slowly click the buttons and lift the phone to my ear, my other arm holding itself tight around my waist, trying to stop the chills coursing through my veins. 

Damn this rain. 

The phone clicks, and I can hear the message begin to play. 

“Hey, Maisie, sweetie… Listen, we have to talk. Where are you? Are you okay? Please don’t ignore me. I’m on the plane right now, I’m coming home, I’ll be there in twelve hours… Just hold on, okay? Please. For me. I can’t stand to see you upset – wherever you are, if it’s safe, stay there, if you want. Okay? Just please, please don’t make this worse than it already is. Please don’t – just – argh. Okay. Listen. I’ll be there as soon as I can. And if you won’t talk to me, at least talk to Izzy. Okay? Okay. I love you. Hold on, sis.”

A tear slips down my face as I shove the phone back in my pocket a second time. 

I hate this. I hate hurting her. I hate it. 

Shivering, I pull my arms closer to my body. My whole body is completely soaked through now. I sniffle as a few more tears slip out. Hastily, I wipe them away, and reach for my phone, which has vibrated again. I look at the caller ID, which has a picture of another beautiful dark-haired, blue-eyed girl attached to it. 

Incoming call from: Izzyyyy Dizzyyyyy <3 <3

I grip the phone tightly as I hit the ‘ignore’ button, feeling the hole of pain and guilt in my heart widen.