𝐌𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐢, it means heavenly cloud. If you look up my name, you will see two options.
Cloudy sky or Heaven.
My parents named me with the idea that I'd be heaven on earth.
I don't think I'm very religious, or well let me rephrase that, I have a hard time believing in Christianity.
It's ironic isn't it, I was created and named on the bases that I would do all good and live heavenly.
You can romanticize me all you want. Tell me how I had no choice, I did what I had to do, but at the end of the day, I have acted as God and taken the lives of five people.
That's a sin in your religion, isn't it? To kill someone?
To act as if you have the same power as the man above? To decide who can live and who can't.
I didn't do what I had to do because I didn't have to do anything.
Now, if you're a Christian I bet you already have bible verses swimming around in your head to defend my actions, trust me I know them.
Samuel 17:41-54 or even Luke 10:29-37.
See, I told you.
But in Exodus 20:13, does it not say thou shall not murder?
Exodus 9:14 says, for this time I will send all my plagues on you and your servants and your people, so that you may know that there is no one like me in all the Earth.
If your God is real, I should expect the most strenuous plague huh? Are we too modern for plagues now? Shit. Is it a sin to have questioned God's ability as well? Fuck, I've gone and done that too, huh?
All I'm saying is, it's unlikely for another plague to sweep through and wipe me out right now, right? I hope so at least. But your God, well he has some imaginative ways of punishing me.
Like taking my mother. My friends.
Or even just by creating me, knowing I'd always be a fuck up.
My name is Aolani, it means heavenly cloud. If you look up my name, you will see two options.
Cloudy sky or Heaven.
I think it means a cloudy sky.
I can't be heavenly, I didn't do what I had to do because I didn't have to do anything. I could've tossed the bag to Darrian, he might not have had it in time but I wouldn't have blood on my hands. It was my choice, to reach into the bag and pull out that gun, my choice to fire once and then over and over again.
Have you ever read Virginia Woolf?
She once asked, how many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn't pull the trigger?
I draw.
Right now my bed is littered with three teenage boys and my brother is slumped back into my hanging egg chair.
With ease I pull myself over Notti, sneaking out of the bed and towards my window. I slyly open it silently praying that the rusty creak awakes no one. When I make it outside successfully I wince as the noise sounds again when I pull it closed.
My art supplies remains where I left them yesterday.
As I take my spot perched against the rough brick of my building I take notice of how dark it is outside.
I could tell you what time it is based on the colors of the sky if you'd like.
The top is almost pitch black, but as you lower your gaze the darkness transforms into a deep purple. Beneath the purple dark blue forms and blends into a lighter blue.
A blue like the ocean, not American waters no. The blue blends into a lighter blue like the ocean from my father's home. The water surrounding Samoa. Yeah, that's a perfect comparison.
Peeking through the blue though is a golden yellow.
Realistically, I know it is the sun rising. But when my mother died, and my fire escape became my solace, the sun when first rising with no definite shape, just a spreading soft glow in the distance, kinda looked like heaven's gates.
In the early morning, the sky looks like heaven, and I wonder if this is what my parents expected when they looked at me. Did they expect me to be as beautiful as the morning sky? Was I supposed to speak to people as it did to me?
I think my name means cloudy sky. I pull the sketchbook from the ground and onto my sweatpants-clad legs. My hand has a mind of its own as the shading reveals a dark angry cloud. And behind it, a sheltered sun.
It's 4: 58.
My friends and my brother remain asleep in my room, I crane my head to peer into the dark room, seeing the yellow glow swim on my walls.
They look peaceful when they sleep.
With a sigh, I heave myself up and travel back into my room, stopping at my dresser and pulling the top drawer which revealed all of our phones.
Quietly I pull mine out clutching it in my hand as I creep from the room. When I reach my living room I turn my phone over, the screen immediately lights up.
I am not surprised when I see the large number of notifications glaring back at me. I click the first one I see and it's a post from the localdrillny page. They had been covering me a lot lately.
Damn, if I wasn't going to get myself arrested they damn sure are.
_
The door behind Aolani creaks open slowly, too captivated by the comments she doesn't attend to it. Elias freezes when he sees his sister.
From his spot in the middle of the hallway, he can see her smaller frame straddled on the piano bench, she is crouched over with her head lying gently across the lid of the piano which is currently covering the keys.
What does he say?
The living room is cold and dark, the only light peeking through being the soft dark blue tones from the early morning sky.
Wordlessly he strides over and takes the empty space beside his sister.
She locks her phone, keeping her head down but turning it a little to observe her brother.
"Good morning." she croaks out, her voice is raspy and her mouth is dry and he can see the dried tears still settled on her cheeks from the night before.
"Morning twin."
She didn't spare him another glance, head turning in the opposite direction. She lifted her arms, crossing them and placing them under her head gently.
She took in a deep breath, a shudder left her mouth that Elias knew was to keep her composed.
She didn't want to cry.
She never cries.
As weird as it may seem, Elias was always the more emotional of the two, he was her brother, her older brother at that so you'd expect him to be the tougher one. He wasn't.
When his mother died he cried enough tears to water the desert. Laney cried for a while but after that, she had shut down it seemed.
Elias wasn't shy about admitting his feelings or being open. His baby sister on the other hand walked around like an impassive robot.
He could blame his father.
For not giving his sister the comfort she needed when their mom died, for throwing countless instruments her way instead of a hug. For isolating himself instead of being a father.
His sister wasn't an openly expressive person. She liked to suffer in silence and keep things to himself. So it was no surprise when he could see her dainty hand reach up and swipe at a tear before it even had the chance to drop.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes." She said it with enough conviction he almost believed it. But he knew his sister so he prodded again. "No, you're not, it's okay though."
"Are you okay?" She had spoken it so quietly that he almost missed it.
"No."
"I'm sorry." she croaked.
"No, it's my fault." He cut her off, "I shouldn't have-"
"I shouldn't have picked up the gun, it's my fault. My actions aren't always a result of you, you're not to blame for everything wrong that I do."
He began to speak, yet she continued. "I killed people last night and it had nothing to do with you."
"You saved Darrian." He voiced, hoping it ease her harsh thoughts of herself.
"Yeah," she started again, her voice muffled from her face being stuffed in her arms, "I would do anything for Darrian, I made a stupid choice, but as bad as it may seem I'd choose to do it over and over again. It was my choice, my decision."
"Saving people you love isn't a stupid choice, it's not a choice at all."
"I had a choice." Her voice cracked, the tears began to pool at the corner of her eyes and she jammed them shut in an effort to stop the flood before it arrived.
She'd never been good at the emotional stuff. She hated crying, she hated yelling, she hated being sad, but she was always good at getting angry, but she hated herself when she allowed herself to be. So she always displayed herself as barren.
She was an angry person. She wasn't melancholy over the lives she had taken, no, she was enraged.
Enraged that she had gotten herself out of character. Enraged that she allowed herself to lose control. Enraged that they had taken someone from her. She felt guilty, yes, and she would mourn the lives she had taken for the rest of her own, but god, was she angrier than anything.
More than last night she had always been an irate child. She was angry with her father, though she'd never tell him that. For stepping in and being a dad when it was too late.
She was angry with her mother for leaving her behind.
She was angry with god and with life and with every simple mistake.
She was good at being angry but she didn't want to be, so she always remained empty. But that scares her sometimes, being empty. The emptiness she sees in her eyes when she shouldn't.
She hates that about herself, her ability to feel utterly self-destructive inside while always having to display herself as the stronger person.
Her brother was the emotional one, so she refuses to let a single tear drop from her eye as he reaches over and tugs her to his side.
He was the emotional one so she allows Elias to place his chin on her head as his tears wet her scalp.
Elias had enough years with two kind parents to know that it's okay to express himself.
She was raised by an intense but caring man who thought feeling anything but strong was a weakness. She was raised to believe that you channel your emotions through other things, like playing the piano until her fingers physically hurt, drawing until her pencil nearly snapped in half, and playing the violin until her bow shreds the strings.
So maybe she was also angry at Elias, even though she knew she shouldn't be.
Because unlike him, she doesn't know how to tell people how she feels, she is hostile and angry, yet he is able to know peace and show kindness. Somehow he always got the best pick of the litter, he always won in this life.
Elias means "my God is Yahweh", If you couldn't tell by now, their mother was very religious. Yahweh is the name of the God that came to earth as Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ is Yahweh in the flesh," Elias is a spinoff of the name Elijah, once again a prominent figure in the bible. Are we surprised?
Elijah devoted his life to God, he understood the power of God and the depth of the depression, he was a vessel used by God to prove a point. Elijah Was a prophet.
If you google the definition of a prophet right now, it'd say, a prophet is a person gifted with profound moral insight and exceptional powers of expression.
Does that sound familiar?
Laney always wondered how her mother was able to envision the lives of her children before they even exited her womb, how she'd know the destiny of her children even if she wasn't around to see it.
As Elias silently sobs above her she takes her other arm and wraps him in a hug.
"I love you Vaea." She hums, nestling her head farther into his chest.
He cried harder at that, his hand squeezing hers tighter.
Elias was the prophet, yet here she was consoling him when she was the one who needed comfort.
Three loud knocks rattled the door, Elias lifted his head eyeing the door, and slowly Aolani followed suit.
The knocks were so loud that they woke Leati and her three friends.
Neither Elias nor Laney moved from their spot, as both doors creaked open from the Hallway.
With a confused and sleepy gaze, Leati eyes his two children as he saunters over to the front door.
Notti, Dd, and Ddot peek from the door silently, from their view they can only see Leati opening the large door.
The second the door opens an inch it is harshly pushed open as five officers barge in.
"We have a warrant for the arrest of Aolani Anoa'i"
Her entire name is pronounced wrong as they scan the room for her.
Instinctively, Elias blocks his sister from view as he stands guard in front of her.
"For what?" He exclaims, his arms spread at his side.
They ignore him, opting to communicate with Leati instead. "You can follow us to the station sir, your daughter is facing charges of first-degree murder."
"What!" Leati shouts stepping back in surprise.
"No, you got the wrong kid," he objects blocking the cop as he begins to approach Laney. "My daughter is a good kid, you got the wrong person."
Laney feels her father's words hit her like a ton of bricks, his confidence in her character is almost enough to have her doubling over and heaving up her insides.
I am not a good person, I am not a good kid. She cries internally.
"Sir, back away and calm down before we have to arrest you as well." The officer warns taking another step forward. Leati blocks his path again.
Notti, Dd, and Ddot storm down the hall in a frenzy.
That apartment is filled with shouts and objections as they argue with the group of officers standing in the living room.
Silently, Laney rises from the piano bench, she maneuvers around her brother's protective frame as the cops yell for her family and friends to stand back, at the sight of a hand touching the gun at their waist she speaks up. "I'm right here." she announces, "I'm here. It's okay."
She steps in front of her father holding her hands in front of herself cautiously, "please, just stop." Her words were directed to everyone in the room, to no avail they had no authority as the yelling resumed as the buff cop roughly pulls at her hands and yanks her towards him.
As he turns her to face her family and friends he tugs at her wrists harshly pulling her arms behind her back and cuffing her.
"I'll say it again, she's under arrest, you can meet us at the station."
From her position, she could see the remaining officers containing her brother, dad, and friends in their places.
She had no time to register what was happening as she was pulled from her apartment, the shouts from inside are drowned out as she sees her neighbors peeking from their doors. She is pushed through the hallway passing by the older lady who lives in the apartment next to hers, she can't hear what she says but her eyes catch her lips moving, "stay strong baby."
The apartment across from hers has the door wide open, the four kids stand at their door nosily, eyes wide in shock as they watch the young girl who plays piano for them and babysits them sometimes while their mother works being hauled roughly from the building.
The youngest kid, only four years old steps into the hall behind them, screaming out her name over and over, those shouts go unheard as her head spins and her wrists ache.
Behind her, they have broken free from the manmade barricade of the officers and chase after her as she is directed down the stairs.
As the door to the building opens the early morning air hits her in the face, the sound of police sirens echoes throughout her head and the situation becomes all too real. The block is littered with bodies, some recording others shouting for the police to leave her alone.
She can't focus as shouts of her name surround her, lights are blaring from every which direction and she doesn't know where to look. She turns her head in a frantic search for her brother and she finally sees him break his arms free from the hold the bulky officer had on him and push out of the door.
"Laney!" He yells frantically, "Laney!" he calls out.
She is pushed into the car and the door is closed almost as fast as it was opened.
Surprisingly she wasn't angry, she felt that she deserved to be dragged out into the open and be made for everyone to look at like some circus show. She was sure the moments she spent hugging her brother at her sleek piano would be her last memory of freedom, if it was, she was content with that.
Notti is next to exit the door, he is out of breath and struggling to keep himself upright, but as he sees his girl slumped over in the back seat of the police car his heart drops.
He wants to run up to her and tell her it'll all be okay, that she has to stay strong, but just as fast as he broke free, he was held back again. This time it was his brother, Dd slung his arm over his brother's shoulder pulling him into his side.
"It's okay." He muttered, "It's going to be okay."
Notti nodded, but he wanted to repeat those same words to Laney.
Almost as if she could hear his thoughts her head raises, and she no longer kneels over herself. Her head is now visible and she holds her chin high. Like two magnets, her head turns in an instant and she meets Notti's gaze. She is not crying, She is not angry, she is just there.
Notti mouths three words, "I love you." and she nods, head turning to face forward.
He can see the mouths of the two officers moving and he can tell they are speaking to her but she slumps back and offers them blank stares as the car pulls off.
The blue and red lights fade as they disappear from the block, and instead of the soft glow that had been present before, a dim gray covers the horizon. There is no sun peeking through the still-dark sky, it is just filmy and darkened.
𝐡𝐞𝐲𝐲𝐲𝐲𝐲𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲'𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲'𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤? 𝐋𝐌𝐊!