The Catalyst

Anchor (Ten Years Ago)

"Will you be home soon?"

It was the beginning of Winter break. Amber tried to mask the disappointment in her voice as she watched her brother put his shoes on. He had promised to play video games with her today, but like all the recent promises he made, he broke it after getting a call from his friends.

Amber could tell that his brother had become popular since the night of the party. He had been so busy and distracted that he hardly had spare time for her. It was good and all--Amber was happy that he seemed closer with his friends--but she was starting to feel lonely. She was often home alone since their mother was too busy making ends meet, even on holidays.

"I won't be long," Axel said, smiling up at her. "I promise."

Amber stared at her brother, knowing that his promise would most probably become another lie, but she didn't want to burden him so she smiled and said, "Okay. Have fun, brother."

Axel grinned. "I'll be home for dinner. What are you making tonight?"

"Fettuccine Alfredo, your favorite," Amber answered, trying to match her brother's enthusiasm. Then she pursed her lips, trying to decide if it would be alright to expect him to keep his promise this time around because he looked like he meant it, but at the same time dreading the possibility of being let down yet again. She took a deep breath and continued, "I'll be waiting, okay?"

I don't want to eat alone.

"Alright," Axel said, ruffling her hair, before leaving through the front door.

Amber watched her brother's figure by the window, getting smaller and smaller until he was out of her sight. It was only a few minutes since he left, but the absence of his warmth made the house colder, bigger, emptier. She wished she could invite her friends over to keep her company, but they were all on vacation. It was the holidays, after all. Families were all out and about, catching up and enjoying their free time.

Sighing, she sat on the couch and switched the T.V. on, wondering if any show was entertaining enough to distract her for a few hours. After flicking through channels a hundred times and failing to find a single program she liked, she turned it off and went up to her room to play her electric keyboard instead.

Within minutes, she was absorbed in her own music. At first the tune was cheerful and fun, but it soon followed her mood and became melancholy. Her fingers danced through the keys as though they were the strings of her heart--she had perfect command and yet, at the same time, she didn't. Her fingers moved on their own. Her soul spoke through her music. She loved it. She was one with it.

The melody gradually became mellow as the knots in her stomach untied. The disappointment and sadness she felt earlier were all melting away, humming in the air, caressing her ears, leaving a taste in her tongue like honey.

Then a sound that did not belong to her music--the sound of the front door opening--made her fingers freeze on the keys. The melody stopped just as abruptly as her breathing. Slowly, she stood up and lingered at the top of the stairs, listening for his brother's familiar voice.

Could he have gone home early?

But it was too early. Did he forget something so he decided to come back?

"Brother?" Amber called as she took deliberate steps down the stairs. "Is that you?"

There was no answer.

"Brother?" she called again.

At the last step, her blood ran cold. There was an unfamiliar man in the living room, staring at the painting of a prarie on the wall, smiling as though he understood the meaning behind the art. She involuntarily took a step back, the wood of the stair creaking as she did so, and the man turned to face her.