Tick Tock [short story]

[r]un over

Tuesday, July 16th, XXXX ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀11:57

United States of America

NXX XXXX

————————————————————————————-

I don’t know when this habit of mine started.

My mom calls it a bad habit, and my counselor thinks it’s some coping mechanism that I’ve developed over the years to deal with a traumatic event. She thinks said traumatic event is the loss of my kid sister, Kassie. But that’s not it - no offense to Kassie. But she was always my parents’ thing. Their habit, you might call it.

I wasn’t very close to her. We didn’t even argue. It was distant, but entirely in the way that strangers are. Our relationship was, what, in biology, you might call commensalism - one benefitted from the relationship, while the other wasn’t significantly harmed.

I benefitted - Kassie drew the attention off of me when she was born. And she was hardly affected my lack of caring toward her. In fact, she didn’t seem to notice at all. My parents probably took it upon themselves to love her in my stead.

And then, a few years ago, she died. Passed away. Went to the next world. Whatever you feel most comfortable with. She got run over by a car. There was blood all over the road. We were able to get money from the driver through the legal system. There are payments in the mail every few weeks.

My mom says I’m too crass. When I lay out all the facts, naked. But I don’t see the point in swathing them in fancy cloth. Will saying, “My sister passed away,” make her come back? Will Kassie roll over in her grave in horror?

No. I don’t think so.