Wings

September 15, 2013

I spent the next several days with Zach, delaying the inevitable return to my estranged sister. I stayed in Zach's apartment while he had classes during the day, and he would return home the moment he finished to spend time with me. At night, we would go on our own adventures together, whether it was going to an arcade and "beating" my older brother at all of his games, seeing indie flicks at the local theatre, or just sitting outside and looking at the stars. I had longed so badly to be reunited with my brother, and I was utterly content being there with him doing whatever we pleased.

I woke up this morning, rolling out of bed groggily. The aroma of cooking eggs, mushrooms, and ham wafted into my nose, and I walked into the living room to find my brother. Zach was standing over the stove in the kitchen, his eyebrows knit together in concentration.

"You're actually cooking," I laughed. "I didn't think that you could make anything other than cereal , ramen, and toast!"

Zach looked up at me, a mischevious grin on his face. "Just 'cause I let mom do all the cooking doesn't mean that I can't make breakfast for my baby sister."

I giggled, and sat down at my place at the table. Zach followed, sliding a freshly made omelet onto my plate. "Mmm, my favorite," I said, breathing in the smells of my breakfast. "This smells good Z." Zach gave me a small smile, fidgeting in his seat. My smile dropped. "What is it?"

Zach shifted uncomfortably, refusing to look me in the eye. "Syd..." he started to trail off.

"What is it," I snapped.

Zach rubbed the back of his head. "Look, mom called..."

"No."

"Syd, you've gotta go home eventually."

"NO, Zach," I snapped.

"Sydney. You have to go home, c'mon." He held both of his hands out, trying to reason with me.

"Please, don't make me go back there, Zach. I'm begging you." I could feel myself tearing up, and Zach quickly got up, standing behind my chair and wrapping his arms around me. He rocked me back and forth as I continued to cry, bawling into his arms. "Please, I can't go back."

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We pulled up to my house, my eyes puffy and red from crying. All I could do was stare out the window, my gaze fixed on the garage door. Zach leaned over, his left hand still on the wheel. "You know I don't want you to leave, right?" I remained fixated on the door, refusing to answer my brother. "Syd," he pleaded. I started to open my door, pausing when Zach set his hand on my shoulder. "If it were up to me, you would be living with me permanently. But you need to go home, Sydney." I nodded, climbing out of the car.

Zach got my bag from the car as I stood with my arms in front of myself. He hugged me tightly, pressing his chin to the top of my head. "It'll all be okay, Syd," he whispered. I pulled away, nodding, and wiped a tear from my cheek. "Call me tonight, okay? I want to make sure that you're okay." I nodded, and he smiled before getting back into his car. I stood in the road, my bags in my hand, watching my brother as he drove away. My mind flashed to the moment when I left Adam standing alone, and my heart rattled with hurt. I took a few deep breaths, attempting to rid myself of the painful fragments, but it didn't work. So I picked my head up, and walked to the front door, turning the knob with shaking hands.

I shut the door carefully behind me, walking inside of my house. This institution had housed us since Zach was born, and its walls had been privy to the many whispered secrets from the children within. We had spent out entire lives in this house, but it would never be my home. A home was a place where families loved each other, where childhoods were happy, and where you wanted to be all your life. None of this applied to me, and if walls could speak, they would scream blasphemous words of my secret life.

I walked into the kitchen, immediately struck by the image of my mother, leaning on the counter, her eyes boring into me. "Hi Sydney," she said evenly.

"Hello mother," I replied, matching her tone.

"How is your brother doing?"

"He's fine," I answered, shifting uncomfortably. My mother had something to say, I was just waiting for her lid to blow and spit it out.

"You know, you've made your sister extremely upset lately." There it was.

"Excuse me?" I asked. I couldn't believe that my mother was pulling that bullshit with me.

"You heard me, Sydney. You have to consider what effects your actions will have on this family."

I could feel my anger bubbling inside of me, and it finally burst. "Fuck you, Christina."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," I replied curtly. "I said, fuck you. But thank you for begging, that really helps."

My mother stood there, a shocked look plastered on her face. "You have no right-"

"No right?" I spat. "No right? No, you have no right, mother. Emma fucking destroyed me the other night, and you're still defending her! I mean, are you ignorant, or just plain stupid?"

My mother looked at me with an expression of steel, then finally spoke. "Get out," she said shortly. "I want you to get out, and to never come back."

"Mom," I said quietly, tears filling my eyes.

"You heard me, Sydney. Get out, and don't you dare attempt to speak to us ever again. You are disrespectful and rude, and we will not tolerate you in this family."

I slowly turned, walking out of the kitchen, and walking upstairs in a slow stride. I entered my room, shutting my door, and began to fill all of my duffle bags with clothes. I had all of my essentials, and then I saw the tin glistening in the drawer. It had caught the sunlight just right, and that was all I needed for a reminder that it was there. I slowly lifted it up, sitting crosslegged on the floor.

I lifted the lid off the metal box, finally looking at the contents. It had been five months since I had seen them, but I could feel the familiar itch that I always got before I did it. I lifted a small one out of the box, turning it over in my palm. It was small, but sharp, and it had been my favorite.

It only took a millisecond for me to make up my mind. 26. Arms, hips, thighs. I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to do it. But damn it, it felt so good.
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hi
i've been busy i'm sorry i'll write more soon.