"Alleah!"
Silence.
"Alleah."
Silence.
"Alleah?"
Nothing.
Andrew poked his head out from around the corner of the bed and grinned at me. I was in the corner of our bedroom furthest away from the door, the door whose view was blocked by the body of the bed.
I sat blankly and stared at him with my same face I'd had since I entered this heck. Tears were still spilling from my eyes and my dress was ruined from all the stains they were causing. I kept my arms folded and didn't even bother to smile as I looked him in the eyes.
"Alleah, please. Please stop crying. You're home with Dad! You're home with me."
I looked at him in the most agonizing way I could make myself look, an expression of despair and horror. The truth was that I felt that way and I wanted him to know without a doubt that it was all his fault. His lips pulled down at the corners and he looked at me sadly. I was not going to let his sad expression change my mind for anything.
He went beside me and I felt his arms snake around my knees and my back as he pulled me into his arms. This was one of the last places I wanted to be but I didn't have it in me to fight him. He sat where I had been sitting and kissed my cheek sweetly like a father does to his daughter.
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to come home," he whispered into my ear. "Dad's been so worried about you and I have too."
I buried my face into his shoulder and just kept on letting the hurt trickle down my face. I couldn't even speak. The sorrow of everything was crashing down on me. Oliver had ruined everything. My father was now alone without me and he had to be hurting too. All the family he had left was gone now and he really had no reason to live anymore. It was ten at night, exactly three hours since I'd been kidnapped.
"Look, I know you're upset about leaving that Brent guy but let's just face it," Andrew continued. "I needed you more than he did."
"You don't even know what you're talking about," I choked, wiping a big glob of moisture away from the corners of my eyes.
"If you say so," he shrugged. "I think it's true."
"Well you're wrong," I snapped at him. He had Zemlicka here to take care of any want, need, or even problem that he had. My father had nobody. "Dad needs me more than you or that Zemlicka freak."
"Oh, so now you feel like talking? Good. Let's talk then."
"Not if you're going to keep trying to convince me that Zemlicka is our father. I'm so sick and tired of listening to that bull crap. I don't want to hear another word about it."
"Okay, fine. Let's talk about what we've been doing without each other."
"What's the point of that?" I muttered. "I've just been trying to keep my freedom, but all is lost now. I might as well just curl up and die right here."
He looked shocked. "Alleah, what has gotten into you? We're doing this for your good."
"How is it for my good? He's taking complete control of us! Has he ever told you why he loves you so much? It's because of your powers, thats why. He's using us, Andy."
"Why would Dad use us? He wouldn't. Stop letting Brent fill your mind with lies! I'm tired of it."
"He's not filling my head with lies," I argued. "He's serious! Zemlicka is the one lying to you! Haven't you ever wondered what happened to our mother?"
"Of course I have," he frowned. "She got killed by Brent."
"No. She. Didn't," I said through my teeth. "He reversed it all. I doubt Zemlicka even knows where her grave is."
"Of course he does."
"Have you seen it?"
"No."
"Exactly," I said a little angrily.
"Exactly what?"
"Zemlicka doesn't even know. Our real father, Brent? Yeah, he's taken me there during the first few weeks that he brought me back. He obviously knows where it is."
"Because he's a flipping stalker."
"Why would he stalk a woman he doesn't even know?"
"You tell me."
"Andrew, he didn't!" I said loudly. "He knows where she is because he's the one who buried her, duh." He furrowed his eyebrows at me and frowned even more.
"Alleah, drop it. I don't want to fight with you about this," he sighed, frustrated.
"I'll fight you until you believe me!" I hollered, pushing him away from me and getting off his lap. "I will never give up!"
"And neither will I," he said darkly. I opened my mouth to say something but instead all that came out was a choke of gurgling sobs. I collapsed on my bed and started crying even harder than before. Nothing felt hopeful and I just wanted to curl up and die.
I felt his hand brush against my side and he sat next to me on the bed, trying to comfort me. His hand made my heart break even more. I remembered when I had been told at first that Andrew existed. I had been so excited.
"Yeah, I am pretty confused," I remembered saying. "There's so much I don't understand. Like Barry and Phil kept talking about some other person and they were constantly comparing me to them. I asked them who it was, but all they said was that they would let you explain."
"Oh, really?" my father had asked.
"Yeah and it's really bugging me. Would you by chance have any clue who they're talking about?"
"I'm guessing they were talking about your twin brother Andrew," he had told me.
"Whoa," I had gasped. "I think I heard you wrong. Could you run that by my again?"
"You have a twin brother, Alleah," he'd repeated, looking confused. "His name is Andrew."
"I'm a...twin?!" I'd choked out. The words had seemed so completely wrong.
"That's exactly what you are and what you've always been," my father had nodded.
Now here I was with Andrew after struggles and trials. He was here and I was with my blood related brother, the one I'd shared my mother's womb with, but it wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling. I felt anger toward him for not believing me.
"Andrew?" I whispered through my blotchy, swollen face.
"What is it, sis?" he wondered, rubbing my back gently.
"How long have you known about me?"
"My whole life, pretty much," he replied. "Why?"
"I was just wondering," I shrugged, wiping my eyes against my arm. I couldn't help but feel a little but jealous. I wished I'd known in so many ways.
"Ah, I see," he nodded. His hand was becoming more and more gentle against my back. "How long have you known about me?"
"Not very long," I admitted, pursing my lips. "Less than a year."
"Brent didn't even tell you about me?" he said, his face twisting painfully. I could tell this made him angry, so I quickly backed up what I said.
"I've known about him as long as I have known about you."
"What?"
"I was adopted, Andrew. Dad put me in an adoption center so that I could grow up with a mother and so I would be safe from Zemlicka. I didn't know either of you even existed until Dad's men came and picked me up."
"Are you serious?" he gasped. He stopped rubbing my back for a second to gather his thoughts together. "Here I thought Brent had raised you."
"No, I was raised by a sweet lady whose husband left her right before she decided to adopt. It was her and me until the beginning of the school year. Sixteen fabulous years."
"Well that's comforting. What did you do in high school?"
"I played volleyball, basketball, and softball. Right now it's the beginning of softball season and I'm missing it. I miss it a lot."
"Aw, so you're an athlete," he poked it tongue against his cheek. "It does fit you. You're tall for a girl and you have the body type."
"What's that suppose to mean?" I asked.
"You look strong. Healthy and strong. I'm glad they encouraged you to go that way. I'm happy you aren't one of those people who go home and watch television all day like those people on TV. It's such a turn off, if you ask me."
"Good job, me," I joked. He smiled at me and patted my shoulder.
"This is the first time we've really been together since birth. I can't believe I ever had a life without you, sis. It really is a kind of devastating thought. We are twins...we're supposed to be together all of the time."
"Yeah, I know. I wish people hadn't torn us apart."
"Me too," he grimaced, staring at the frame of my bed.
For a while there we just sat and bonded. I still felt angry at him but as soon as I remembered the crystal inside my dress, it reminded me that I needed to gain his trust if I ever had any hope of breaking the curse. As much as it pained me, I knew breaking it was the only chance I had left of being with my father again.
We talked about a lot of things together. We talked about Jessica and my volleyball team, we talked about my basketball years and how long I'd been playing. Andrew told me about his education and what he'd been doing here with Zemlicka while they'd been constantly searching for me (which made me feel very creeped out, if you know what I mean).
Our talking time was soon interrupted by the devil himself, which made my stomach twist painfully.
"Kids?" Zemlicka called through the door when Andrew and I were hugging each other on the edge of my bed.
"Yes, Father?" Andrew called. His words put a bitter taste in my mouth, but I bit my tongue and didn't say a word.
"Are you two hungry? I know it's getting close to resting time, but would you like a little snack? Sandy made us a treat."
"Sure, we'll be right down," Andrew called back. I made a face and stood up, brushing off my dirty dress.
"Who's Sandy?"
"She's our chef," he responded. "She's a beast at making fruit tarts and pasta casseroles."
"That's yummy," I said, just to make him smile.
"Yeah," he grinned. "Come on, we can get you some food and I want you to get to know Father better."
"Andrew..."
"Please?"
"Ugh, maybe."
He shrugged and took my hand, leading me toward the kitchen.
It took a little while to get there, but eventually we walked into a white room full of silver pots and pans. An obese black haired lady was at the oven mixing some stuff together and Zemlicka sat at the bar stool with a plate of tarts.
"Hello, my sweet twins," Zemlicka gave us an evil smile and patted the spots next to him. "I'm glad to see you two bonding and getting to know each other better after the rough separation."
"I'm glad we're back together, too, Father," Andrew chuckled, taking a seat next to Zemlicka. I sat next to Andrew so he would be in the middle; there was no way I was going to sit next to the man who murdered my mother.
There was a long and awkward silence as we started into our fruity tarts. I didn't know what to do as Zemlicka and Andrew kept exchanging looks before they'd both look at me. A lump rose in my throat; I didn't belong here.
"So, Alleah, how are you enjoying it here so far?" Zemlicka asked. Andrew turned to look at me so he could hear my reply, but I stayed quiet, quickly taking a bite of my fruit tart. I had to admit, the silence was better than this sudden spotlight.
Andrew gave me a disproving look while Zenlicka continued to stare at me. I kept shoving my cheeks full of more tarts and when I got done, I scooted the chair back with my butt.
"Well, that was delicious," I announced, "but I really think its my bed time! Goodnight!"
I started to walk off, but Andrew caught my arm and shook his head at me. I mentally cursed as he pulled me back toward him and Zemlicka nodded in approval. Curses.
"Ah, ah, ah," Andrew shook his head. "Not yet."
"Andy, you're not my father."
"Yeah? Well he is and you should respect him."
"He is NOT!" I hissed, trying to grab my arm away from Andrew. He gripped harder as Zemlicka came to stand by me.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?"
"Don't ever call me that!"
"He's your father, Alleah," Andrew growled. "Stop being such a brat!"
"He is not my father!" I screamed at Andrew. He took a step back in retaliation, but his grip did not ease.
"How could you say such a blasphemous thing?" Andrew breathed, his eyes popping out of his school.
"Alleah, calm down this instant!" Zemlicka ordered.
"I will not take orders from you!" I shrieked in his face, sending an electric spark down my arm. Andrew let go almost instantly, muttering curse words and I took off running toward my room. Sadly, I didn't make it very far.
Curse those dang guards.
One caught me by the hair and threw me back against a wall. I felt my head slam into the thick frame and I felt on the ground almost instantly. My head started to throb vigorously and I sucked in an oxygen-rich breath. Why did people thing this was the only way to stop me?
"Ow," I whimpered, holding my head as Zemlicka and Andrew came closer to me. I closed my eyes tightly and kept breathing as the blood rushed up to my head, but I didn't have much recovery time. I felt Andrew's soft, warm palm come up and take me by the arm, pulling me up.
"I'm going to take her to bed," Andrew informed Zemlicka. "She's had a long day. Maybe tomorrow she won't be such a stinker."
"Okay, son. That's a wonderful idea because work starts tomorrow."
Tomorrow? I started to feel sick to my stomach. Now I knew for a fact that this man wasn't my real father.
"What has gotten into you?" Andrew hissed as soon as Zemlicka was out of hearing range.
"I'm fighting the devil himself. The man who tore our once perfect family apart," I growled back, trying to get him away from me.
"Would you quit with that nonsense?" he said angrily. "That's such crap!"
"No it's NOT! What's happened to you?" I yelled at him. "What happened to the fun brother I was talking to upstairs? He's gone! I don't even know who you are anymore!"
Andrew didn't reply. Instead he hauled me up to our room and threw me on the bed, cursing under his breath as I once again cried silently to myself. Being treated like this was making me miss my father even more and Barry and Phil also. Who needed Andrew when I had those two. They always made me feel special.
I closed my eyes and listened to Andrew move around the room. His steps were like the adrenaline you got before you got caught in hiding, quick and powerful. I froze when I heard his cover on his bed pull back, indicating that he was about to go to sleep.
"Alleah?"
Silence.
"I love you. Sleep well, sis."
Bitter silence.