V.

by Emily N. Kay

  Standing in the dark doorway was Violet, in her little polka-dot pajamas set. “Can I come in? Please,” she whispered.

  Relief flooded over me. How stupid of me to think that he could be here. At this house! Then I felt ashamed… for even thinking about him.

  Violet didn’t wait for my answer as she slipped into my room. She looked around, her arms crossed over her chest, as if she’s cold. I wondered how she felt seeing me taking over her mum’s old office. In my defence, I didn’t do much with it. I didn’t have much stuff, and I couldn’t care less about making this room my home. In fact, I liked that it made me feel like I was living in a temporary hostel rather than in a real house with a “new family.” This way, it would be easier for me to leave when the time comes.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked Violet, perplexed.

  She hopped on to my tiny bed, making even less space, and she took it upon herself to snug into the quilt before she answered quietly, “I’m scared.”

  “Of what?”

  “The storm! I hate it. And the thunder—” It’s as if the sky heard her as a lightning struck with an angry roar. She started, squeezed her eyes shut and let out a high-pitched shriek.

  “Why are you here?” I asked again. Her being here somehow made me uncomfortable.

  “I told you I’m scared!” Violet pouted. I realised it’s a thing with her—the pouting. Maybe she thought it’s cute or something.

  “Go to your daddy’s room then,” I stupidly said. “I have a math test tomorrow. I needed my sleep and you woke me up,” I lied—about needing sleep to pass a math test.

  Violet glared at me in disbelief. “I can’t go to Daddy’s room! Meg will think I’m a coward, and I don’t want her to think I’m a coward,” she whined. Then her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How can you sleep with all this noise anyway? You weren’t sleeping. I know you weren’t.”

  I rolled my head back, annoyed. How can I get this girl out of my room!

  “I promise I won’t disturb your sleep. I just don’t want to be alone in my room tonight,” said Violet, sounding like she’s about to burst into tears.

  I looked at her, and I knew that she’s never going to leave this room—at least not without tears. So I huffed out a huge breath and said, “Fine.”

  That night, the two of us laid side by side, under the same cover. She didn’t keep her promise. All she did was talk. All I did was pretend to sleep while listening to her talk about the mean girls at school and her favourite TV show about mermaids and some other stuff I couldn’t care enough to listen.

  When the sky cries again, she jolted beside me, burying her face in the crook of my arm. I wanted to yank my arm away—mostly because I didn’t like people touching me, and because it tingled. But seeing her so afraid, so cowered, I decided it’s okay to let her hold me just this once. She’s just a little kid after all. She’s my step-sister.

  After a while, it felt kind of nice. To be held by someone. To feel as though they couldn’t bear to let you go. At that moment, I felt like I really do matter… and that felt great.

  The moment she finally stopped talking was the moment I knew that she’d fallen asleep. I peered over at the little girl beside me, her long hair sprawled all over the pillow, and I noticed how much she resembled her late mother. I had seen some photos of Leah in a photo album left in one of the drawers here—her high cheekbones and thick lashes were identical to Violet’s.

  It’s usually on rainy days and nights like this that I couldn’t help but muse on the existential question of why things happen the way they do. In that particular night, I thought: Do we have someone up there to decide for us what event is going to happen? Is God even real? Mum is not that religious so I didn’t know what to believe. And is fate real? Is fate the reason why Leah was gone so soon, why Dad had to be the way he was, why we had to move here, why Mum had to work at this store, so that she would meet Frank? Does fate dictate the life events of our two families so that we would find each other in the end? Do we get our happy ending now? Will I be content with this new family of mine? Will I get my happy ending?

  My thoughts were all over the place and I was too exhausted to think about any of it. So I slept, not knowing that that particular night was the first of many nights to come—thunders or no thunders.

  **********

  I look at V now. She is smiling widely with her eyes closed in those black bikinis, a ring poking through her belly. In both her hands is a half-bowl of watermelon filled with neon-coloured smoothie, her skin glowing. Under the picture writes: No better way to spend a day.

  A better way would be to fucking spend it with me, I think bitterly.

  Ever since V left the house, I’ve been busy trying not to think about her. I’ve cleaned my room, and bathroom, and even the kitchen! But as soon as I saw that V has uploaded a photo of her in the car, it was over.

  So, that’s what I’ve beeen doing…

  I keep on refreshing V’s Instagram Feed—I don’t know for how long—until a new photo pops up. I immediately clicks on it. This one is of V and that fucktard Kyle… kissing, in a middle of a crowded beach, the sun shining brightly over their heads. I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste metal on my tongue as I read the description: Couldn’t have asked for more.

  For fuck’s sake. It’s like she thinks the people on that beach will look at them with adoration. No one wants to see this! Two teens locking lips in a beach full of young kids? Disgusting.

  Fuming, I go to Kyle’s Instagram. He only has a few pictures posted. Which is surprising… considering how much of a narcissistic prick he seems to be. He hasn’t posted any pictures from today. Useless.

  Then I realise, I haven’t checked Stacey’s! I took me three seconds to find her Instagram. And there they are. As expected, there are a bunch of photos at the Gold Coast taken today. The first few photos were of the blue water in contrast to the warm, yellow sky. I skip past Stacey’s pouty-face and all her ass-showing photos to the one with V in it. This one is taken in what looks like a café (vegan, no doubt). V is caught laughing, her white straight teeth showing. In front of her are a plate of some greens and a bowl of vibrant berries and yogurt. Lit food = happy gurl, writes Stacey.

  I unwittingly roll my eyes.

  Before I can go back to V’s Feed and refresh it again and again, I get a new text.

  Caitlin: Wanna hang? No one’s home ;)

  I stare at the message. Two conflicting thoughts come to my mind: I could be at home, where I would be obsessively stalking V and her friends on their social media, being miserable while she’s having a blast. Or, I could go to Caitlin’s and… I don’t know, do something. It’s not the best idea, considering how crappy I’ve been feeling for using her, but at least… I will have someone to distract me from V.

  Shit. I’m using her again.

  Maybe I’m not different from Kyle Rogers after all… The thought lasts about a second before I shake it away.

  No. The difference between us is that I love V, and he doesn’t.

  I text Caitlin back: Be there in twenty.

  At least V is home before nine, right before Frank and Mum are leaving for the airport. After saying their farewells, Mum turns to me and says, for the hundredth time, “Take care of your sister, okay?”

  So I tell her for the hundredth time, “Of course.”

  V just stands there, now in a white t-shirt and denim shorts (thank God), smiling like a good little girl. But I can tell from the sparks in her eyes that she’s up to something.

  “And the shop. Remember everything I told you?” Frank asks me.

  I nod. “Sure. Do everything the store manager tells me to do.”

  “Good.” Frank smiles and squeezes my shoulder one last time before walking out the door with a huge suitcase. Mum follows him out. And our parents are gone.

  We’re alone in the house.

  V shoots me a big smile right after the door closes. “You won’t believe what I did today!” she sa
ys breathlessly.

  “What did you do?” I ask, a little weary. It better not be something about Kyle.

  “I went sky diving! Sky diving, Josh! Can you believe it? It was amazing I thought I was dreaming, but I wasn’t. It was real. Of course, Dad can’t ever know it or he’ll freak out. So you have to keep it a secret, okay? Anyway, argh!” She’s practically jumping now, laughing. “You have to try it for yourself to understand. Maybe we can go together someday. I can’t—”

  I don’t hear what she says next… We. Together. Someday.

  “Josh! You listening?” Her wide, excited eyes blink at me.

  It takes me three seconds to recall what she said and reply, “Yeah. Sky diving. Awesome. But isn’t it a bit… dangerous?”

  Her face suddenly shifts. “Ugh, forget it. I don’t know what I was hoping to get from you.” She brushes past me into the kitchen.

  I follow her. “What? I’m just saying—”

  She twirls to face me. “Why can’t you just be excited for me? You’re sounding more and more like my dad every day.” She suddenly pauses and her eyes widen. “Oh my God, you’re going to tell him about it, aren’t you!”

  I furrow my brow. “Of course not. Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know, Josh!” V glares at me. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you these days. You’re acting so old. Like, chill the fuck out!”

  Puberty. Hormones, I remind myself.

  I draw in a huge breath, trying to compose the right words in my head. “I know I’ve been… harsh on you. But that’s just cause’ I’m stressed out,” I lie. “With all the waiting. I mean, I don’t even know at this point if I’ll get the scholarship, and I guess I’ve been taking my frustrations on you. I’m sorry.”

  V’s face changes instantly. “Shit. Right. Your scholarship.” She shakes her head incredulously. “I am so sorry, Joshie. I totally forgot about that. Gosh, you let me go on and on about sky diving and what a great time I had—”

  “It’s okay, V.”

  V looks at me with such empathy in her eyes. “You’ll get it, Josh. I know you will.”

  I make a show of exhaling and nodding. “I hope you’re right.”

  “I know I’m right. They’re crazy if they don’t want you.” She smiles encouragingly.

  You’re crazy.

  “What did you do today anyway?” she asks. “And don’t tell me you’re home—”

  “Actually, I hung out with Cait today,” I quickly cut her off, feeling a bit proud of going against V’s expectations.

  V looks stunned. “Wow, you—really?”

  “Yeah, well, what you said got me thinking. I realised I should try harder with Cait, you know? I think I can see myself really liking her if I actually give us a chance.”

  All lies. I don’t see myself being with anyone but V. Hell, all I did at Caitlin’s today was playing with her dog. All the while she was trying to take off her clothes. I really thought it would be over between us right then and there, but it didn’t. Honestly, this girl deserves a medal for her patience with me.

  “Huh…” V muses, gnawing on her lip. I search for some kind of jealousy on her face, but I find none—only confusion. “I don’t see that happening, but okay.” She shrugs. “Anyway, you have to take me back to the Gold Coast. I really want to do it again. With you, Josh. It’ll help loosen you up.”

  And it’s a cycle. My heart has been ripped off, thrown to the ground, stomped on, picked up, dusted off, and now put back in my chest as I feel it beating again. Only V can do this to me.

  I let out a chuckle. “Where is that little girl who’s afraid of thunder?”

  At that, V bursts out laughing. “That girl is dead.”

  I force a smile. “Clearly.”

  But what I don’t tell her is how much I miss the girl who is afraid of thunder…

  Chapter 5

  Violet

  2015

  Violet loved Josh’s bedroom. The room was small and cozy. But most of all, she liked Josh’s company. It’s not often that Violet could find someone who was so good at listening. No one listened to her at school. The girls all thought she’s weird—for being too blunt and loud, among other things. And the boys didn’t like that she could beat them in an arm wrestling contest. But whatever. She didn’t need any of them. Because now she got her very own brother.

  At first, Violet needed to come up with an excuse to be in Josh’s room—nightmares, bugs in her room. She never ran out of excuses. But lately, she didn’t have to. She knew Josh liked to have her there as much as she did. He didn’t say that, of course. But Violet knew. Because whether Josh knew it or not, he smiled when Violet entered the room. And that had to mean that he had warmed up to her.

  Whenever Violet went to Josh’s room, she always brought with her a bag of Peanut M&M she had stocked up in her bedroom to share with him. Even Daddy didn’t know about it! He would take all the candies away if he knew. She risked a lot when she told Josh about this little secret of hers. But Josh would never tell on her. She knew because he barely spoke more than three words to Daddy in one day.

  On one Thursday night, Violet was hoping Josh could help her with her science homework. One thing she had learnt about Josh was that he’s super duper smart. To Violet, Josh was a genius. He could solve any math problems she had handed to him. Even the advanced ones! But that’s not even all. Josh had a photographic memory. Meg even confirmed that. He could recite a passage from the Bible once he’d read it all. It’s incredible!

  “I’m coming in!” she announced, knocked on the door once, and then barged in.

  But Josh wasn’t here. Not in the bedroom.

  The bathroom door was ajarred.

  “Joshie!” Violet called again, walking over to the bathroom. “What are you doing?”

  “Wait! Don’t come in!”

  Too late. Violet pushed the door open. Josh quickly turned his head to face her, his face pale slick with sweats. Both his hands were behind his back. He’s hiding something.

  Violet narrowed her eyes. “What’s behind your back? What are you hiding? Why do you look like that?” she shot the questions at him.

  His throat bobbed. He said nothing.

  Something wasn’t right…

  “Show me,” she demanded. “What is it, Josh?”

  “You need to get out,” he said, so quiet, almost a whisper.

  Violet was taken aback. “Why! What’s going on with you?” She’s starting to get angry. No one tells her to get out. Especially not Josh!

  She advanced and grabbed Josh by his left arm, yanking it so that she could see what’s in his hand.

  A metal clanged on the marbled bathroom floor. Violet jumped, so was Josh, who was now breathing rapidly.

  The sharp thing looked like what Daddy used to shave his facial hair. Did Josh take it from Daddy’s cabinet? Did he steal it? No, that’s not the point. Why does he have it?

  “It’s not—I just—” Josh started, stumbling over his words. “I wasn’t going to do anything!” he said, his voice high.

  That was when Violet realised… Josh was going to hurt himself. Or even kill himself, she could not be certain. She might be young, but she’s not stupid.

  Violet was frozen for what felt like minutes before she could speak again. “Why…” she breathed, letting the thought sink into her head.

  Why does Josh want to hurt himself? Why does he want to take their own life? Why? A billion questions rushed into her head. She didn’t understand. She could never understand people who want to end their lives. Well… she did know people killed themselves because they’re sad. Those were hopeless people. But Josh… There’s nothing wrong with Josh!

  Just then, when Violet thought things couldn’t get any worse, she saw a trail of blood dribbling down her step-brother’s wrist, a dot of red falling, then two, then three.

  Chapter 6

  Josh

  The day I knew I wanted to study law was also the day Mum was brave enough to le
ave him. That day… was also the first time I got hit. The first time I realised what he’s capable of. The first time I understood what Mum had been putting up with, what she had been protecting him from.

  It was a normal day—a typical school day. I took the bus home from school. And there he was, sprawled on the sofa, his arm sling over the face, shielding his eyes.

  Is Dad not feeling well? thought Little Me. He must be sick. Why else would he be home this time of day?

  “Are you sick, Dad?” asked Little Me, innocently, unaware of what was to come.

  He slowly moved his arm away from the face, peering over, his eyes squinted. As I walked closer to him, I noticed a sour smell. I learned what the smell was when I see several empty bottles of beer lying on the carpet, next to the sofa.

  “Are you okay, Dad?” I asked again.

  He just looked at me, with his red bloodshot eyes. “Am I okay?” he hissed, his face twisted. I never saw him like this before. “Boy, let me tell you if I’m okay!” He sat up, still unable to keep his head up. He coughed.

  “Dad…” Little Me whispered, scared.

  He waved me over.

  I went to him. The smell of booze intensified.

  “You have any idea why I need this fucking job? Why I fucking need it even when I fucking hate it! You know why? Here, lemme tell you why,” he said, his speech beginning to slur. “It’s your bitch of a mother that’s why! Why did I let her do this to me? She thinks she can talk me into getting a good, fucking real estate job because it makes more than an architect? All the while she’s working as a fucking pharmarcist because she loves doing it?” He scoffed. “So she’s allowed to do what she wants and I can’t. Just because I’m a man? Fucking bullshit! I’m supposed to pay for this house and your tuition? Fuck. I can’t even do that now!”

  I could only stare at him. Like I’d forgotten how to speak. Who is this man? He’s not Dad… Dad doesn’t swear in front of me. He doesn’t hate Mum…