In the Shadows

Chapter One

"Avery, I'm home! I got the medicine for you!" I yell into the house, my voice echoing through the chambers. I dump my school bag and winter coat to the floor and kick the door closed, cold wind ceasing to bite at my back, but the memory remaining. Not even a cough erupts from the depths of the house, so I tighten my grip on the CVS bag in my hand subconsciously and take a few steps into the living room. Regardless of her age, I hated when Avery, my little sister, was sick. Especially when I had to go to school, leaving her completely alone until I got home.

"Mr. Dilworth was at the CVS again," I crack a smile and gesture to the bag, even though she can't see it. "he was complaining about the movie selection for Redbox again." This earns a laugh from me, my little sister sure had a childish sense of humor, she cracked up every time he was there. But still, nothing. Maybe she was asleep?

Avery was a light sleeper, I knew that from the many nights she stayed awake, not being able to go to sleep because of a thunderstorm or something. And the only time she would be able to ignore my yelling through the house is when one of our parents forced her to take medicine. Neither of our parent's cars were in the driveway.

I quicken my pace and walk through the kitchen with not much more than a glance at the clock. 4:23

She's been alone for ten hours.

A lot can happen in ten hours.

No. I can't think like that. She's fine.

"Avery?" I call again, practically running down the hall to her bedroom. Her bed was messy and the sheets were sprawled out, dipping over the sides to graze the carpet. The top drawer of her dresser was wide open and half of its contents are spilled messily onto the floor. The rest of her room was neat, tidy, untouched, how it usually was. Avery hated having a messy room. This was so out of the ordinary, so unnatural. My stomach dropped.

Something was seriously wrong. 

There weren't many places in the house to be, and I had searched most of them already. Where the hell is she?

"Avery? Are you here? Answer me, please." I say for the third time. Nothing but dead air to greet me.  I backpedal out of her room and almost run down the length of the hall, passing my room and my parent's, closing in on the bathroom. The door was closed.

"Avery?"

Silence greets me violently, ripping my heart to shreds. Slowly, I reach out and turn the knob, letting the door creak open. The CVS bag thumps to the floor with a dull thud, the hand that was holding it now covering my mouth, muffling strangled sobs.

I found Avery, swimming in a pool of red on the white tiled floor. Her head is tilted in a weird position, mouth slightly agape, her wide, dead eyes stare straight up at me. She's not moving.

Not blinking.

Not breathing

Not alive.

My throat tightens and through my lips escapes a squeak of disbelief and shock.

One of her hands is balled into a loose fist, while the other holds an exact-o knife, which is dripping with blood like a horror movie. From her wrists, a thin trail of blood fans out down her wrists, forearms, and hands, where the skin and veins were sliced. Her skin was pale and gray, her usual vibrant eyes, faded, deprived of color.

The world seems to move in slow motion as my knees buckle, slamming my side into the doorway, my heartbeat thumping in my ears. Numbing pain shoots up my spine and my head pounds with Avery's laugh, which I'll never get to hear again. Sobs erupt in my chest, shaking my entire body, wetting my hand with tears, wrenching my frame forward.

Something deep inside me cracks at the sight of my innocent, sweet sister, sprawled out on the floor like the bed sheets on her floor were. I squeeze my eyes shut as if when I open them, she'd be alive again. Instead, her body is imprinted on the back of my eyelids, every detail carved into them. I open my eyes again to let the tears loose.

As I stare at her, my mind paralyzed, but somehow my hands grab my phone, and with numb fingers, they call 9-1-1. It picks up quickly, and I hear the line click.

"9-1-1 what' your emergency?" A male operator says, his voice demanding authority. It made my stomach tie into a knot. 

"It's my sister she's-" I squeak out before cutting short, not being able to say it.

"What happened to your sister?" He asks, his voice the same tone as before. Anger bubbles in my tight stomach, the thing deep in me cracking again. He didn't care. He got these all the time. He probably didn't even realize that a life was cut short. My sister's life. I swallow dryly and try to continue.

"She,"

"Ma'am, you have to tell me what happened. I can't help if you don't." He repeats. I crawl to Avery with one hand and stroke her hair softly with my shaking hands, my tears falling onto her cheek. I look down again, this time to the balled fist. A slip of paper peeks out, and I reach over and unravel it.

You never heard my cry for help. I finally broke.

"Ma'am listen to me please tell me what's going o-"

"DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?!" I scream into the phone, anger bursting to the surface. "MY SISTER IS DEAD! SHE FUCKING KILLED HERSELF!" I don't even bother hanging up, instead I lose it, hurling my phone as hard as I can at the wall, my lungs burning from screaming. It splinters to pieces just as I hear "We're on our w-" through the speaker. I hunch over and chant to Avery.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I love you. I could've helped you..." The words spill out of my mouth,  over and over like a broken record.

It isn't until the thing deep inside me shatters the same way my phone did do I realize what it was. 

It was my heart.

My hands are red from her blood. My shirt is damp with tears. The crumpled up note is wrapped in my fist. 

I am a broken record.

My entire body is paralyzed, unable to move, so I sit there, my head on her chest, sobbing, the broken record playing again and again. 

"I'm sorry. I love you. I would've listened. I could've helped you."

I'm yanked away from her by a cold, gloved hand. I struggle against it, trying to get back to her.

"Let me go! I have to be with her!" I cry, kicking and flailing at anything I can to get away. 

"I have to be with her!" 

It takes four people to get me outside into the cold and away from Avery. They wrap a blanket around my shoulders and clean my hands, then sit me on the edge of an ambulance and tell me to stay. So many people are already here. Some people have their phones out, some people I know. Most of them are police officers or others of authority, already putting up the crime scene tape. My body goes numb again as they bring Avery's body out in a black bag. The papparazi outside the tape goes crazy, the sound of snapping pictures echoing in my ears. 

Nobody gets it. They see this as a way to get 'likes' on Instagram. Not that my little sister is dead and in that black bag, never to laugh, or smile, or cry, or breathe again. They don't care. 

I want to scream at them.

"I'm so sorry. I should've listened. I could've helped you." The broken record keeps playing.

My parents arms wrap around me, tryig to soothe me, stroking my hair, whispering words of comfort in my ear. I don't hear them. My eyes stare blankly at the ground. My body shakes. 

"I'm so sorry. I love you. I could've saved you."

The broken record repeats as my father lifts me into his strong arms, carrying me to the car. It plays as we drive, my parents completely silent. It plays even when we arrive at Uncle Leo's doorstep, pleading to stay the night because their 'little girl' is dead. I'm lead inside his house, one I've been to many times yet seems so unfamiliar, to the guest room. Mom tucks me in and kisses my forehead, reassuring that tomorrow would be better.

The broken record plays itself to sleep.