Twisted Sister, & Me
Dad has passed away, he didn’t mean anything by what he said. If anything, he was a coward. At least, in the past he was. Sometimes, I look at myself, and do you know what I see? A familiar face.
‘Come on, inside… We can talk about this.’ The woman whispered.
‘O-okay, but, is he… going to be okay?’ I cried.
She raised her hand in the night sky, I let go my dad’s left hand. Seeing my sister above me, made me sick. She was in the wrong, maybe it wasn’t her fault, but she was in the wrong. Why did she go to all that effort, trying to keep me away from dad? So many questions, little answers. Was she a changed sister, a completely different person?
‘So you‘re just going to leave me… out here?!’ My sister screamed.
‘No… You need to apologize to him, you, you were in the wrong…’
After the woman, the woman I didn’t quite know. She made it clear that my sister was not to come down. Not to come down, unless she apologized to our father. She took my hand, walking me inside. The cold bitterness of what I had witnessed made me think back to the good old days. Granddad made it pretty clear, he made it clear that good old days were the best of days.
‘Now, what are you going to say to her?’ I asked.
‘Asking her… Your sister? – What would that accomplish? She’s up there crying her eyes out, and you’ll asking me to do you a favour?’ She hissed.
‘Fine… Tell me your name then, make it easier for me,’ I sighed.
‘Hasn’t your father told you? Oh forget it!’
‘He has told me enough, enough… that you’re his new girlfriend,’ I cried.
‘And you just believed him like that, he was hardly truthful…’ She denied.
She got up off the sofa, looking me in the face before, leaving the room with me being alone. Dad would never lie about someone he loved, so why is she denying true love? My sister wasn’t always a good truth hider, she was called that by father. She had a strange reason to talk about mum in an aggressive manner. But, she portrays her as a hero whenever I’m around.
I left the room too, it was time to get some answers. Obviously, the first location to search in, it had to be the bookshelves. Dad had a private library, I remember it a little too well. He called it his business office, he made business there. Not the kind of business I thought so as a kid. Lunch breaks too, he disappeared on lunch breaks, just… just after mum would leave to do some walking.
After finding the bookshelves, the wooden bookshelves. I searched book by book, looking for some answers. “Skinning a fox” a title that I never had heard before. I didn’t like the sound of it, skinning? Anything with skin in a name, surely that means trouble. I continued searching through older books, I managed to find something more worthy of being read. “My Diary,” a book that made more sense for what it’s worth. The book had a strange label, dark black with white stripes on the cover. Opening the book was the easiest task, I opened it scanning it quickly with my eyes.
‘Why are you messing with dad’s old books?’ A voice whispered.
‘What, me? I’m not looking through books!’ I lied.
The light came on, showing my sister’s face.
‘Little brother, you can’t lie to me…’ She gasped.
‘Sis, I don’t plan on lying to you, ever…’ I continued my lies.
‘Where’s that woman, Where is she? That penny pinching bitch!’ She whispered.
‘Ha, she left without telling me anything. – I learnt little about her, to be honest.’
My sister sighed deeply, not long before leaving the room with just me alone, again. I read through several pages, skimming and scanning each page as if it was a book, and less of a diary. I found a line, it was a sentence that told me a little about this woman. Dad clearly liked her, why else would he write entries about her? The Diary read:
The world has been good to me once more, it has delivered me a passion. Remember when I spoke about passion fruit? It was the kind of fruit that sweetened me like my son’s mother. They both had a keen identity, she was sweet and sour. And the passion fruit, it felt a little passionate. Something his mother was clearly missing. If she was still here, I’d love to make her see eye to eye. We had our differences and our arguments. She was just a complete selfish woman, she was never supposed to lure me down memory lane. Yet she did, she did it with ease. And the worst part is, I let it get to me.
After having a nervous breakdown, well she was quite good with situations like that, wasn’t she? Once she left me and the kids, it was time to give up smoking. None of my kids ever figured out my smoking addiction, I’d always hide it from them. Telling them what you know, it just would rip me apart. I’d end up in a mental home, before… well you know. After going to a no-smoking class. I managed to find the girl of my dreams, she too had the same issues as me. She knew me quite well, to begin with. After the walk I had taken, away from my family. She didn’t give me up, just like the passion fruit, she had passion and a heart only I could love. She was caring and considerate, but never demanding too much. Not as much as the old bag…
Alice was her name, I learnt it after a strange reaction I had with her. On the train, she greeted me with several tissues in a box. I thanked her for waiting for me, I thought she’d leave without me. I guess I doubted her, I now know that she was never to be doubted. This is my life and that’s the way it was supposed to be. The kids will love her, surely… And if they don’t – well who am I to deny true love?
- April 3rd 2010 –
‘So dad, he was going to get rid of us?’ I whispered to myself.
‘So you know… I tried to tell you, I really did.’
‘What do you mean? You were running away from him, with me!’ I cried.
‘Little brother, who else would I run away with, obviously not Alice.’
‘You, you kept this from me… I’m a fool for even trusting my own sister!’ I screamed.
‘It wasn’t intended, honest. I did what I had to do, looking out for you.’
My sister approached me, one step closer than on a daily basis. She looked at me with her arms out, she looked like she had passion. Her expression made me want to hug her, she was my sister after all. Why would I hate my sister? She never meant any harm, she said so, herself. I offered my small left hand out to her, I wanted her to hold my hand. Mother did, she knew how to comfort me. And she also mentioned my sister being a lot like her, as she grows up anyway.
‘Thanks, but sis, you don’t have to lie to me…’ I sobbed.
‘Lying to you, what else was I supposed to do?’ She whispered.
She spat on the dark red carpet, and looked at me for a brief second. She didn’t stop to notice me for too long, she acted like I wasn’t there. I tried to wave her goodbye, not for good. I just wanted to make her see why I care so much, a sister who is like mother. What more could anyone ever ask for? Mother Version 2.0, that’s what she’d be called, if she was older…
‘Alice, that’s the woman’s name right?’ I asked.
‘Yes… Why do you ask?’ She replied.
‘N-no reason, she doesn’t sound correct though…’ I sighed.
‘Correct? Don’t call me a liar, I’m telling you the truth, Alice is her name.’
‘H-how do I know that, how do I know you aren’t lying?’ I questioned her.
‘Little brother, you can believe what you want. If dad was still here, he’d know just what to say to you. Since when did you become so curious with his life, anyway?’ She hissed.
‘S-since he died…’ I held my head down.
She looked at me with a tear forming around her left eye. Her eyeliner mixed in with the tear, forming a dark black liquid. I held onto her hand, reassuring her that dad wasn’t bad at all. She hesitated. As her tear rolled down her cheek. Before I could look at her and tell her face to face that I love her. She wiped away the tear instantly, hiding away her face behind a dark woolly hood.
‘He’s a menace, I’m sorry…’ She whispered.
With her head down, she left the room again. This time, she didn’t make any sound in the background. Until, I heard the door slam. The door slammed with a bang, and I wondered whether she was going to come back. The storm outside began to clear up thought out our conversation. Alice walked back into the room, she looked at me with a depressed face.
‘Your father… Did he really mean anything to you?’ She bit her bottom lip.
‘Yes… He meant something to me at least, why does everyone doubt him?’
‘You clearly don’t him as well as you think you do…’ She sighed.
‘What aren’t you telling me, what else are you hiding, Alice?!’ I shouted.
‘Hiding! You can’t just blame me for keeping secrets, he isn’t right in the head, you should have known that by now…’ She looked disgusted.
‘He had passion, did you not read his diary?’
‘Diary? You didn’t, how could you look through his private stuff?’ She hissed.
‘So, do I have to cry my way through this? Or, are you just going to talk to me about my father. Tell me everything that I already know?’ I asked.
‘H-he was a good man, a great kisser too!’ She laughed.
The atmosphere in the room was pretty dark. I didn’t like the sound of what she had been saying. Great kisser? He was more than that, he was my father. Not some man who just makes a good impression on his first date. He actually tried to keep our family together. He tried to make amends with mother. He moved onto her, probably because she was desperate.
‘I don’t like your tone kid, I cared about him and you know that. Who was the one who let you have some time alone with daddy?’ She whispered softly.
‘Don’t make me feel sorry for you, you are to blame just as much as my sister…!’
‘Fine… That’s one thing he didn’t tell me about you, a kid who thinks like his father.’
The moment she finished speaking, I nodded my head in hesitation. Eventually, I dropped my head down in my two small hands. Trying to get a grip of what this so-called Alice was all about. She can’t just call me a father wannabe. He is my dad after all, what’s wrong with following in his footsteps?
‘I’m sorry… the truth is kid, I’m no good with children… Your dad loved me and I loved him. I may have lied about liking children, but, I do love children! They are nice to talk to, I just don’t know how to look after them…’ She cried.
‘For starters, you could find my sister…’
‘Your sister? She is outside, remember? Outside in the rain, on a tree…’ She hissed.
‘Yeah, but she isn’t on a tree… She got down, where have you been?’
‘Don’t get rude with me kid, she was being a brat out there!’ She raised her voice.
Our conversation wasn’t going too well, and the heat was really heating up. She came closer to my face with a disgusted look on her face. She held me by my left wrist, tightly, not willing to let go of me. She raised her voice as she shouted at me about my sister being some brat. If she is a brat, then why does she care about me? No brat leaves a family member behind… Oh wait…
‘Her father died out there, the man of your dreams!’ I rang her bell.
‘Dreams? He was indeed, but, he didn’t fulfil my excitement, what I was hoping for…’
‘So what, at least he loved you for who you are. I can’t say I’d make the same mistake!’
‘Mistake?! That’s it, I’m sick of you… Get out, get out now!’ She screamed.
Before I knew it, I was thrown out the house, out the front door. Nothing to my name, just a kid who’s been thrown out on the streets. I looked down in sadness, at the dark cobble underneath me. Wondering where my sister had ran off too, I sat on the doorstep crying. The weather started crying too, clouds dropping rain drops. Difference was, my tears didn’t quite reach the ground.
‘Son, is that what you wanted for your birthday?!’
The voice of my dad, I could hear him outside. Or, maybe it was inside. The sentence he spoke, it sounded familiar. Like a past memory, a memory that didn’t go too well. It was the time where my dad was having an argument with mother, and she didn’t do anything wrong. She wanted to leave the home back then too. I’m not sure why, nothing makes sense anymore…
The rain had flooded some of the flooring, the grassy hills in the distance were lost with-in the foggy background. And the sky was darkish, with the clouds forming lightning. No sister in sight, just the floods and rain hammer down on the river banks. And this storm wasn’t leaving any time soon, it just kept coming and coming. Firing at my eardrums like a bullet. Several bullets.
I looked down at the doorstep, it was pretty wet. The gravel from the driveway was turning a funny colour. It was as if the rain had been draining out colours, colours in objects. Some of nature had been pretty badly affected. Burnt trees in the distance, lightning most likely. Dark orange and reddish leaves were scattered across the ground. Heavy winds pushed through the storm, howling loudly into my ear drums. Some of the flowers around me were drowning in shallow puddles.
Near the doorstep, my eyes caught sight of something square. No, rectangle, it looked a lot like rectangle. I reached down to pick it up, my feet were getting soggy from the rain too. After brushing off the dirt from the piece of paper I had found. I could see a message, and the message was written in a very strange ink. Not red, it was far too dark to be red. Dark blue, a dark blue ink that had been used to write a message. I scanned through the words, reading the message in my head. The storm was pretty distracting, but this message was like a sigh of relief, to me anyway.
The note was also crumpled near the corners, and some of the words had been scratched off. Scratched off with some kind of car key, it was thin enough to be a pencil too. Anything could have made a dent like that in paper. I’ve tried loads of scratches on paper, it was an experiment, don’t ask. As I looked closer, I could see burn marks. Darkish, greyish strange patterns. These patterns were exactly like the paper had been burnt on a fire or something. The message read, or what I could read from it at least. It said:
505 – The room number. She’s moved there, she needs some space away from her family. If anyone comes looking for her, I’ll greet them with respect. She always had a keen eye on me. I guess that’s why she fit the puzzle perfectly. And she certainly knows how to show love, doesn’t she…
- The Hall –
Could this have been here for months? Maybe even years, I can’t say if this paper is new. As I looked more into the note, revising over the condition it was in. Anything was possible. The burnt bits of the paper, surely this note was on fire. Obviously, I looked more into the condition of the paper. This storm, could this storm of taken away the fire? Yet the note was under a plant, so why isn’t the plant burnt?
505 room number, whoever it is. The note says it’s a she. So maybe it is my sister, I don’t ever remember her knowing a guy enough to trust. She always told me that there was no-one out there for her. She always saw them as a deep trench to fall into. She named them the shadows she wishes to never meet again. So why am I finding some note telling me differently?