Dead

2┊Twisted

┆Indigo ┆

"Indigo, dinner's ready. Come down please." My mother's voice travelled up the stairs, floating into my half-open door. I slapped my laptop screen shut, eyeing the rosewood door, which had been deprived of varnish for too long, and shifted, so I was facing the mirror that was directly parallel to my bed.

It was safe to say that I looked frightening; my curls were tangled and my eyes appeared too wide in their sockets, leaving only my flushed cheeks to provide some colour to my complexion. I shouted back: "I'm not hungry."

"Indigo Viola Rivers, you come down to dinner right now. I'm not in the mood to argue with you, understand?" I rolled my eyes at the typically patronizing tone my mother took on with me, indefinitely making me feel inferior to her.

"Mother freaking Rivers, I'm not hungry."

As expected, footsteps began creaking up the stairs. I set my jaw, arms crossed and chin up, ready to face her head on. But it wasn't my mother. Phoenix, my eldest brother stepped inside nervously, his smile wavering ever so slightly. I found myself smiling back at him after a few awkward moments.

"Phoenix." I blinked, dazed. "Did mom send you up here? Because I'm really not hungry."

He shook his platinum blonde hair roughly, "I heard the shouting and figured it was better to escort you down myself." I let out a breath, secretly relieved. Pausing at the foot of my bed, he leaned against it, fixing his steely gaze on me.

"Are you really not hungry or did you want to continue avoiding your two older brothers at home too?"

My stomach dropped in sheer embarrassment. Heat rushed to my cheeks, tinting them cerise. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I shot him a practiced smile. "I wasn't avoiding you as such. I was just avoiding the people who would go on and onabout how great you were when they don't even know you. Or the people who'd gossip until my ears felt like they were so full of bullshit, I couldn't hear any more."

Stepping down from my bed, I moved forward, feeling minuscule in the shadow of my older brother.

"Honestly, I don't blame you." Phoenix's eyes were like mine, but darker and had indigo-coloured shards lining his pupils; he was every bit the American golden boy. Handsome, smart and athletic.

I apologized anyway.

We walked side-by-side and in step with one another as I skipped down one step and he stepped. "How was California? I heard mom saying you might be offered a scholarship there." I couldn't hide the disappointment in my voice.

He smiled down at me. "You heard right. California –" his expression became inadvertently brooding as he spoke. It was as though a far off utopia had been captured in his eyes, lighting them up, thus allowing his shoulders to slump with nostalgia.  "Was the best year ever. Football, parties, girls–"

I scrunched up my nose. "Too much information."

He laughed, ruffling my hair. "I don't regret it one bit."

I pondered upon that for a few moments. "Well, I suppose maybe I'll take a year off school next year to go somewhere I want to go. Maybe I'll earn myself a scholarship too."

 "Indi, I didn't just take off for fun; it was a transfer program and I was chosen to go to California for the year – for the football."

"And you left me behind and went half way across the goddamn country." I muttered so quietly I thought he wouldn't hear. We entered the dining area silently, drifting apart to our seats.

"Finally – the chicken's going cold." Mother shot me a cold glare and treated Phoenix to a slightly warmer glare, her auburn eyebrows rising as he kissed the top of her hair affectionately.