Together forever and ever

Chapter 2: The money

"I have an idea," I spoke again, turning away and walking towards the kitchen. My eyes flickered over to the knife holder, where a sharp, silver blade glinted in the light.

Looking for something to mask the smell, I searched through the cabinets until I found some whipped cream. My hand casually brushed past the knife as I reached for the can, feeling the cold steel against my skin.

"Have you ever tried a strawberry sundae?" I asked her, my fingers clenching around the knife as I ripped it from its holder. "My sister loves them, and it's the only time I feel fully alive," I whispered, my eyes fixed on her as I towered over her spread legs.

"Well Uh- after...I'll buy you guys some"

"I can't afford to buy them every day, so I make them myself. But even though I'm allergic, I keep doing it. My hands burn with every touch, but it's worth it just to see the look on her face."

I delicately applied the rich, velvety whip cream to her delicate folds, savoring the moment. "Yes, you will buy us some," I said with a sly grin, relishing the prospect of getting what I wanted. But suddenly, I felt the weight of the knife in my hand, the metal cold and unforgiving. Without hesitation, I brought it down upon her, plunging it deep into her stomach. All that mattered in that moment was the money - the solution to all my problems, the key to my sister's future. As I twisted the blade inside her gut like turning a key into a doornob, she let out a gut-wrenching scream, her blood gushing out and mingling with the sweet whip cream. The crimson stream cascading down her body like a red waterfall made for a gruesome yet strangely beautiful sight, much like a strawberry sundae that was equal parts delicious and disgusting.

Nina's house is like a colossal mansion before me, painted in a vibrant yellow that could blind the naked eye. The ostentatious theme of the house was accompanied by a grand piano, stationed next to a polished staircase that curved elegantly towards the upper floors. The air inside the house was filled with expensive perfume that made my head spin. While admiring the impossibly grand design of the house, a thought crossed my mind, "Rachael would love this."

As I made my way through the silent halls, I stumbled upon the master bedroom. The made-up bed with thick covers gave the impression of being untouched for days. The ashtrays at the side of the bed contained burning cigars that were still releasing smoke. Intrigued, I dug inside Nina's closet and found her purse.

The sound of the paper envelope was the only thing that broke the silence. My curiosity getting the better of me, I opened the envelope and unfolded the letter- Beneath the ink, the words conveyed a goodbye letter, which left no room for doubt that this was Nina's last words, if she were to die.

Feeling no particular emotion at her demise, I threw the letter on the ground and took the money inside the envelope. Tucking the envelope in my pocket for later, I made my way downstairs, where I saw Nina's lifeless body still lying on the table, blood pooling beneath her. Without a second thought, I shrugged and grabbed a plastic bag from the kitchen, stuffing some of her food inside.

As I made my way toward her body, I reached for a knife lying nearby and effortlessly slid it out of its sheath. In one motion, I walked out of the house, leaving her body to bleed out.

---

As I stand there waiting eagerly for my sister's arrival, my gaze sweeps across the bustling scene around me. I watch in fascination as throngs of children burst out of the school gates, sprinting towards their parents with reckless abandon. Some beam with excitement, their faces alight with the desire to share tales of their fun-filled day at school.

Others move more slowly, their faces downcast as they nurse grazed knees or bruised egos. And then, there are those who shuffle out of the gate with an air of resignation, knowing that their only refuge from the horrors of their home life awaits them. For them, home is a place of fear, and they know that whatever happens within those walls will stay there, forever hidden from the outside world.

Rachel bursts into view, sprinting towards me in her vibrant purple boots that perfectly complement her entire outfit. Her face lights up as she greets me, calling out "Brother!" Her tiny hands wrap tightly around my legs, the only part she could reach.

"Do you know what happened at school today?" she begins, but before she could continue, I crouch down to her level, placing a single finger on her lips with a smile.

"Me first, okay?" I say. "Today, just you and me are going out for lunch at a fancy restaurant, and you, my dear, get to eat until your heart's content."

"Seriously?!" Rachel exclaims, her eyes lighting up with excitement. I hoist her up with ease and place her on my hip, grinning down at her.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

---

I observe Rachel's reaction as she frantically covers her ears, desperately trying to mute out the deafening cries of the distressed babies nearby. Her eyes follow the rambunctious children running circles around one another in a chaotic frenzy, and I sense a wave of disgust and annoyance emanating from her posture.

Friz Pizza, a modestly upscale eatery in our small town, is the closest thing we have to a fancy restaurant. The truly upscale restaurant is located uptown, but I cannot risk Rachel's safety in that area. Local gangs lurk in the shadows, hoping to rob and possibly murder the unlucky souls who venture to the high-end establishment, anticipating finding a millionaire or wealthy patron. Instead, they often find only a happy family celebrating, caught in the crossfire of greed and violence.

As the waitress approached our table, her heavy footsteps echoed through the dimly lit restaurant. She sauntered over, her notebook in hand as the pungent smell of cigarettes trailed in her wake. With a loud, smacking gum-chewing habit, she asked in a raspy voice, "What can I get for ya?"

Racheal didn't hold back, flinging her arms in the air and shouting, "Pizza and Pasata and browiness! And cake!" The waitress smirked slyly before turning to me. "And what about you, sir?"

I turned to face her, taking in the unpleasant smell and trying my best not to wrinkle my nose. "I'm fine," I spoke.

But Racheal wasn't content. "Brother, you never eat anything! You're like a monster!" she accused, crossing her arms as the waitress looked on.

I dismissed the waitress, who was still watching curiously. "Does that upset you?" I asked Racheal. But she was too focused on me, not even bothering to look at her favorite food as it arrived on the table.

"What do you think?" she spoke with red-faced anger, upset that I was not eating anything.

"You aren't going to eat?" I countered, frustrated with her passive-aggressive tactics.

"Not until you do," she shot back. I felt my eyes darken in annoyance.

"Don't do that," I spoke, slightly raising my voice.

"Do what-"

"Blackmail me," I stated firmly. "Do you understand?" The once-loud restaurant now felt silent with tension. The air thickened with unease as Racheal nervously gulped, realizing the gravity of her actions.

"Good news, Mom sent the money for your trip to New York." However, instead of the expected cheerful response, Racheal remained silent, slowly nibbling on her slice of pizza. Her mood spoke volumes, telling me that she was still upset from the recent disagreement we had.

Trying to break through the silence, I asked her, "What is it you wanted to tell me?" She let out a groan before admitting with a blush, "Tony asked me out." Her confession raised my eyebrows as I had not expected this news.

Curious, I asked, "And what did you say to this Tony?" Her silence spoke volumes, but the intense blush on her face revealed everything. Not needing an answer, I realized that she had accepted Tony's proposal.

With a sense of mild amusement, I remarked, "I see." However, I was not truly worried about my sister's 'dating' habits at this stage of her life. I figured that once she was close to my age and a suitor tried to win her affection, that would be the time to become concerned.