Pinky Promise [ 𝕸𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖊𝖑 𝕷𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖉𝖔𝖓 ]

5. 𝔎𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔢

I had no idea being older felt this way. It felt strange. Empowering, maybe. But it also felt sickening and not in the way teenagers say. Only me and my brother know what it feels like to grow intensely in one night. It was just that my body rejected that growth very badly. My muscles hurt, my head is pounding and my stomach feels like it is going to puke itself out in front of me. As if my insides were going to be thrown onto the floor right in front of me. 

Once I eye myself in the mirror I do not recognise the person I see. My hair seems to be longer. I think I have become lightly stronger as well. Now I can push open my bedroom door more easily. I tend to stay in my room all day today. It would disgust me to show myself to the world like this. It is not that I did not like how I looked, but it was not what I was used to. It made me feel sick. As a plus side I did not want to see my brother either. We had gone through the same thing even though he did not look like he was too bothered by it. And that was simply because he was more favoured by the man with the horns. It had not been fair. 

I saw movement by my door. Feared as I was, I jumped a little, but was rather surprised to see my grandma there. It was not usual to see her with a burning cigarette in her hand; usually she would do that when we were not in the room. Right now it looked like she felt no shame anymore. I looked older, so why did she care? It looked like she suddenly had grown a disgust for me.

''You know who you look like?'' she spoke as she blew out all of the smoke she had absorbed in her lungs. ''Your father.''

''The devil?'' My voice was still as tiny as it ever was, yet it sounded like a whole different person.

''No,'' grandma huffed just lightly, as if that sounded ridiculous. ''Your real father.''

''You never tell me about him,'' I claimed. ''Why?''

''Because he did something evil that brought you and Michael upon this earth,'' she said. ''A thing I wish to forget. A thing that made me wish I was never his mother, even though I loved him.''

''Loved?''

''There is much that you do not understand about this world and this house yet, Katherine,'' grandma said. ''And I hoped to got that you never had to find out. But I supposed that one day you would ask about it anyway. A day that was doomed to me. You are a whole lot different than your brother. You are the most innocent little girl I have known. I do not want to ruin that, of course.''

''Then ruin it,'' I said more roughly than I wanted. ''No matter how innocent you think I am, it appears so my life is not so innocent at all.''

I watched as grandma strode across the room, rolling the cigarette between her thumb and index finger. As she grabbed the lighter and lit the thing I could feel the smoke puffing through the room. She looked at me, curious innocent me, as she huffed in her spot. 

''Of course you look like him,'' she blew out a cloud of toxins in the air. ''Of course you do.''

''Grandma,'' I exhaled. ''You are scaring me.''

''I tried to pray it away,'' she continued, as if switching to another subject. ''Ridiculous, I know. He is my own grandson. I knew that he was innocent all this time, the both of you. I knew it was not his fault.'

I kept staring at grandma as if she was about to lash out any moment. Maybe she was and I was the victim of such a thing. I waited and waited, as I listened to grandma bantering about Michael, about us. About Michael being not so innocent at all. About me who should stay away at all cost if she were ever come to die. If I did not know any better, I would think that she was going completely mad. 

''Michael is not your brother, Katherine,'' grandma suddenly spoke. ''You do not want him to be your brother. And if you ever thought that he could change; you are wrong.''

I loved grandma very much, and if it were not for what I have seen, I would have taken her advice and stayed away from him. But there was still something very similar about us. That was our father. Not Tate Langdon. The devil. We both knew we could feel him inside of us. No matter how much I would make up excuses for my brother's bad behaviour when we were having nannies over. I knew we could not escape who we really were. Maybe there was a reason I turned out like the angel my grandma believed me to be. Why she perceived Michael as dangerous. Maybe our father found me useless, unlike Michael. Then again...

Why did I grow along with him?