The eternality in our ephemerality

Chapter 12. It wasn't me, it was my genes.

The needles in the clock kept flicking indecorously: at each tick the scandalous vibration of uncertainty collapsed above my head, reminding me of the crystal barrier that once shattered and vexed my feelings.

The attempt, to neglect the thought that excruciated my anguish, could be awarded a medal honor. I did nothing but to think over and over and over again who he was. Who Spencer was. 

What will happen to Sean? I knew that intriguing my heart, as deeply intrigued as it now was, was not an easy task to do. But this speedy act can easily be mistaken by desperation, a bizarre emotion I rarely encountered with.

My hands, and hence my mind, were always entertained by baking tomorrow's lunch and supporting my mother by simply kissing her.

But the questions, questions also concerning my emotional and mental sanity, crept into the heedless sphere I had for mind... Without much light shaded on that area, I exited the serenity my bedroom provided and entered the shivering frights the moonlit balcony embedded. I stared, with my glasses and uncertain shiver, at the blinding hope that sphere of light emended. I peeked, with a certain frown, at my phone just in case any new notices were made and I remained ignorant to them: Nothing.

At least not something new, something that would intrest me. No one had yet posted any Instagram stories concernng me or with me. My mom told me she didnt call the cops, only my condos security and my closest friends.

The tea had been spilt, I did it myself.

But how bad will it burn me?

As expected all my close friends new about my incident, and had written to me. The classic concerned messages:

I am here whenever you need to talk to me

Hang in there we love you!

Are you okay?

I loved them, but never in one did someone offer to give me a hug, to wipe away my tears just as I had wiped the puke off their shoulders when they were too drunk to remember, or held their books when they had broken their feet. I held their hands in the flu shot, burned myself for them for giving them the last bit of sunscreen in last summer's camp...

Sometimes the girl who is there for everybody needs someone to be there for her too.

And I waited for someone. I hoped and prayed. I waited patiently, smiled during it....

But, spoiler alert, he never came.

So that someone turned into something, and that thing almost killed me.

But no one saw that. I never said a word, I only smiled.

And they thought I was too innocent for that.

So they had come up with 2 theories on why I did such an imprudent action: I was either crazy and attempted to commit suicide or a selfish bitch who wanted to draw attention.

There was no middle point, I was either a victim or the cause to all harm.... No matter how hard I tried to scream, I would never be able to tell my story.

Andrew had that privilege, Oliver would be a more reliable source than me...

Spencer would be seen as the savior to an action I was unconscious to.

The one who wins gets to tell, and I had renounced to that privilege at the moment I stepped inside those woods and lost any trace of consciousness and sanity in my mind.

But I at least got recognition, for being brave enough to run. I didn't think almost dying would deserve some sort of applause, but here I am.

I continued to stare at the sphere. My palms, opening as the petals of a confounded flower, secured my face in the middle. My spine curved in order to crib my heart.

Without introduction, my beloved sister walked inside the room and centralised her attention into admiring my peaceful caprice not even she had truly seen the splendour of.

"What are you doing here? It's three am" she spoke with her caramel voice. I smiled at her and invited her, with an open arm, to sit next to me and cover herself with my blanket: she did not hesitate to do so.

"Is it?..." My tongue replied: she enforced my answer "Okay fine, I can't sleep" I confessed. Her smile was my answer, and she snuggled closer to me and the fragility contained by my heart. Her lips, automatically, formed into a grimace: caused and strengthened by her totalitarian affection and the urge to support me, she simply was unaware of how. I kissed her on the forehead and my arms held her as if she were a silk cell, her heart beat calmly, the overwhelming energy that she always had, seemed to have fallen asleep as had her vanity and ego. For the first time in months, she wore nothing more than her pijamas.

"You don't have your bracelet on you!" She noted, petrified. I nodded at her discovery, shame and sympathy grovelling in. "You love that bracelet...."

"I suppose is the punishment I get for going into the woods" I spoke, her face darkened and pain glistened in her near amber tonality eyes. "Mamma did not place me any real punishment: she just placed me more chores."

"Uuuuu" she squinted

"But it gets worse. She was not even angry at me. You weren't even angry at me..."

Her lips, debating whether to speak or remain in her silent veil, finally got the courage to speak.

"I know it hurts," she pressed my wound, then, cribbed me with her satin arms. "But I don't know how it feels to have your heart crushed carelessly. I know you fell to the ground and can only guess how the heart punches your rib cage like a sand sack. You forgot everything and simply left, you ran. You ran...but you have always been so tough on yourself, and now, this is the most human you've ever been..." She passed her fingers through my silky hair. "But yes, you can't do that to me. I was so scared, so frightened someone had done something to my little sister... I know I have neglected you, that I have been all over the place, focused on Peter and his drama- "

"If there's anyone who's been selfish it is me" I corrected. "·I am so sorry for everything, and if there was a better word for sorry, I would say it. I'd make one up I'd do anything sylvie. Ill stay home, ill stop going to parties, heck i'll even clean my room and you know i never do that" She giggled. "I am so sorry"

"Now you better remember that, for eternity." She swore: I placed my pinkie next to hers and kissed them with my lips.

"Pinkie promise" She affirmed.

The needles in the clock kept twisting its anchors and exhausting our time; we laid on the floor for more minutes that carelessly turned into hours: the silent gasping of the palm tree and the sporadic lights of a sleeping city. Time kept spinning until it unnoticeably became the initial sparks of daylight.

It had been years since we had slept together, since she sat in the balcony, since she holded hands with me. Al the cheesy things she did were only with Peter.

In a sense, I lost my sister to a guy, to him.

There's a tradition in this family. But one only the women follow. The women in this family lose themselves to guys. Every time. So it wasn't me who caused this, my genes did. 

But she came back. She heard.