i don't even remember writing this: Sisters

Sisters


Her shoe laces were untied. The bright white color was changing to a dim beige. Fran watched the muddy water blend with the bleached white of these new foreign shoes. Bright red feet moving step by step did not seem attached to her ankles, her legs, to her body. The mud splashed higher and even the red begin to change. Fran breathed easier. This brown beige change felt like home. It felt familiar. Looking around all this wetness seemed foreign to this place that Fran now lived. Her eyes kept going to her changing shoes. The colors were becoming familiar, the world adapting to her expectations. Looking back now this idea of adaptation seemed silly to Francine. The world did not change because of rain, and it did not change because a small girl wanted it to.
* * *

”I don’t want to move!”

“I know you don’t want to, but its not up to you. It’s not even up to us. We just have to. It’s not safe anymore.” Fran screeched in her mother’s face and stomped off to her room. Her eyes were wet and her throat seared. She knew it was true. Every day the noise of war broke the silence of anticipation. Fran didn’t go to school any more, it had burned down. Anna couldn’t come over to play, she and her parents had already left the city. Nothing seemed fair or right anymore. This coming change scared Fran more than the bombs exploding down the street. But what was even worse was having no control, no opinion that counted.

Turning to the big pink suitcase Fran begin again to fold clothes. There was no avoiding it. There was no need to check on her. Being an independent child, Fran’s mother knew this was what made the move harder for Fran than Jolene. Two years older, Jolene always depended on her mother, her father, her sister and her friends for direction. She didn’t like to make decisions on her own and was easily intimidated. Especially by her sister. Fran took every opportunity to get what she needed through Jolene. The older child trusted Fran with her life. Fran held the same faith in Jolene, but shoe would never admit to it.

”Did you pack all of your shoes?”

“Of course I did, Jolene.”

“Then have you seen my green shoes?” Fran frowned. Those were her favorite ones to ‘borrow.’

“Yes. They’re right here,” she said as she lifted them out of the corner of her bag. Jolene smiled softly and took them to place carefully in her own bag. Everything was conscientiously organized in her green hard suitcase. The shoes were in plastic bags, the tops with tops and bottoms with bottoms. This meticulous order was Jolene’s way of controlling the world. This small space was hers to do with as she would. Fran’s influence was on the rest of the shared space, and would spill over to anywhere else it could. In the resent past generosity had taken hold of Fran. The sisters shared without argument and talked quietly in the corner as their parents looked on. This had started after the beginning of the violence in the city.

Early in the days war, as it just begin to encroach on their home, Jolene and Fran stuck to regular their route. On this day, Fran chatted with Anna as Jolene walked behind. Normally Jolene’s friend Harold would be with her, but he and his family had returned to England after hearing rumors of conflict coming to the city. The walk home took the children past the good sweets shops and stores with brightly colored displays. As they walked their talk was about the boys and homework and evil teaches, but this was spoiled by odd yelling. It came from the bakery owned by the old Mr. Messrini. On sunny days he would be sitting outside waiting for the girls. Mr. Messrini would favor them with special treats when they passed by his way. This unusual noise coming from the quiet shop brought the girls running up to the windows to spy in. All seemed as it was to be expected. Fran stood to lead Jolene and Anna in when a strange man with a gun came into view. His clothes were dirty and his eyes were wild. This man was yelling at Mr. Messrini and his wife. Waving his gun around he told them that they didn’t belong, that they should go home now. Fran didn't understand this. Mr. Messrini had been in this shop since before she could remember. This was his home, she moved to the doorway of the bakery,

“This is their shop. You are the stranger, you should leave.” Fran spoke these words calmly. The dirty man turned and looked to this small girl still in her school uniform. He was shocked by this willful girl. In this moment of silence Mr. Messrini grabbed for the gun, screaming filled the room as his wife opened her mouth. The man’s wild eyes focused on Mr. Messrini and he pulled the trigger. The boom filled the shop and time stopped. Flying through the air, this small scrap of metal made contact with Mr. Messrini’s skull. Bone shattered and blood covered everything. Mr. Messrini crumpled to the floor like a bag of flour. All of his memories and thoughts spilled onto the floor. His wife’s white dress was now red. Her eyes looked from her now empty husband to this stranger who had ended her life. She screamed until her voice gave out. The stranger with the gun turned to her. He looked her in the eye. Her silence was filling the room, overwhelming the man with the wild eyes. Again, the boom of the gun filled the room. A small squeal from outside snapped the tension. The world started moving again. But Fran couldn’t move. The stranger pushed past her and ran down the street. Fran had done this. She had killed two people. Arms pulled her out of the room. Jolene repeated,

“We have to move Francine. Its time to go. We have to go...” Anna’s eyes were wide with fear. The three girls held each other as they walked down the street in silence. A silence that never left them.
* * *

“Jolene, do you think our new home will be anything like this one?”

“I don’t know. All Mummy and Daddy will say is that we are going to Texas.”

“Where is Texas?”

“Somewhere in America.” The war had only brought one good thing for this family, it had brought Fran respect for Jolene. The sisters were now equals. Neither spoke of the day at the bakery. But Fran woke every night in a cold sweet, panting. Her dreams were filled with people dying.

“This is you’re home,” she would say. “Don’t leave, you belong here.” The familiar faces she passed would transform into open mouths silently trying to scream, their bodies would then crumple. Blood would spring from invisible wounds while silence filled Fran’s ears. The world would be turned red by blood. Eventually Fran would jolt awake, white walls and Jolene's peaceful figure would bring Fran back into her home. This safe place that now was no longer safe enough.
* * *

Dust had disappeared from their apartment after Mother’s cleaning. Clean white sheets were draped over the furniture in every room. Under those sheets the beds were now only mattresses, the bookshelves were empty, and the cupboards no longer held the family’s favorite treats. Everything was in boxes on a plane or ship very far away. Childhood was over Fran had concluded. Jolene held onto her pink diary staring at the empty apartment.

“The taxi is here girls. Let’s get a move on,” Dad hollered from the bottom of the stairs.

“Come on you two, we can’t be late.” Getting exit visas had not been easy. Fran had gotten to go with her father to see what it was like. There was a man at the end of the long line, standing behind the window. Fran had been so excited to see this official business being taken care of, but this official man scowled at her. He told her father that it seemed the whole country was emptying out. Guilt returned. She had done wrong. She should stay here and fix it, make it better so people would come home. Fran didn’t really want to leave her home, the apartment on the third floor, the noisy dog on the first, and Aunt Cara were still here. Who would clean her house once Fran and Jolene were gone? Fran never liked to, but the tea and treats after were good. School with Anna, the other girls, even weird Harold, it was all over. All of these people who she would never see again. The fighting had broken everything.

“I”m sorry sir. I don’t want to go.”

“Of course you do, sweetie. Its not safe and your new home...”

“Young lady, you might as well go with the rest of them. If you stay you wouldn’t be able to do any good anyways.” Fran looked up at this scowling honest man. In that moment Fran felt that she should run away as fast as she could. But Fran had to stay. She had to make up for her mistake. She had to fix it. But logic cleared her vision as her father patted her head.

“Don’t say that to my big girl. She thinks she can save the world.” Fran knew this wasn’t true. She knew that she could only pray she wouldn’t ruin someone else in this world.
* * *

Blinding light shown through the small window. Fran leaned closer to look down on her new home. The houses were so tiny, and blue squares filled the landscape. This strange land promised a different life. One of college education, American boys, short skirts, and getting jobs.

“What are all those blue squares, Daddy?”

“They’re swimming pools, Jolene.” Fran was quiet. Everything felt wrong to her. She shouldn’t be here. She should be back home. Jolene sensed that this is where Fran’s thoughts were, she put arm around Fran’s shoulder,

“Everything will be great, Fran. Right Daddy?”

“Yes girls, everything will be wonderful,” but there mother wasn’t so sure. She was so unsure of what his new life would be.
* * *

‘New’ smell flooded Fran’s nose. Everything looked fresh, as if it had never been used before. As the family walked from room to room, exploring their new home, Fran begin to feel cold. This wasn’t home. This would never be home.

“Three bedrooms Fran! Can you believe it?” Fran looked at her sister with cynicism. “Which one do you want?”
“I don’t care. We won’t be here for long anyways. It doesn’t matter.” Mother and Father looked to each other. This wasn’t true. They had no idea if they would ever be able to return to their ancestors' home, especially since they would be getting American citizenship. Fran didn’t know this, and wouldn’t want to. Jolene saw the good in things, the new opportunities that had presented themselves. A wonderful school was just down the street and there were many other people in this neighborhood from the middle east. It could be a great home if things went right. Fran walked meekly into the corner bedroom,

“I guess I’ll take this one...”

“That's fine. I like the one in the middle.” Jolene received a scowl for her good mood. Fran sat by the window of her newly claimed room and thought back to the reason for this new life. No matter how dangerous it was there she could do more there than here. Here she would just have to move through life without even being able to acknowledge the many deaths that were happening right now. Here she was useless.

As Fran thought on how she could change this, the rest of her family begin to unpack and make this their home. Hangings went up in the living room downstairs, dishes and silverware went into drawers in the kitchen, and the sheets came off the newly shipped furniture. Hours passed and Fran finally came out of her room. The house had transformed everything. It now looked just like their apartment back home. The furniture was different, but everything felt the same. New feelings of safety and comfort confused Fran. This wasn’t her home, she shouldn’t be adapting. But after a few weeks, months of living in this new home, in this new neighborhood, Fran begin to relax. Everything begin to become comfortable, to feel like home. Fran felt like she was betraying her country, but then she would forget this for a moment and laugh with her new friends. These moments became longer and longer. The new clothes and shoes started feeling like hers. Everything became normal.
* * *

Red filled every corner of Fran’s vision. She could not run anymore. It was overwhelming her, suffocating her. Hands were grabbing at her, trying to pull her down.

“Let me go! I’m trying to help you, I’m not the enemy!” She screamed and tried to pull herself free, but it was no use. The slimy hands brought her down to her level and she begin to drown in the deep red blood. The world begin to shake and Fran blinked at a new bright light that shown down on her.

“Wake up. It’s just a nightmare.” Jolene’s voice pulled her out of the abyss. Fran breathed heavily as the realization of what was happening came over her. The dreams had started again. She thought that she had moved past this. That she no longer needed to fix her mistakes, but now she knew that could never be. Jolene looked done at her little sister knowing the pain that she was going through. Reliving that terrible day over and over in her sleep. Jolene knew that her sister thought that she had done it, that she had killed them, but Jolene didn’t know how to explain how wrong this was. She feared her younger sister would go insane or do something terrible. Jolene had seen the hidden scares and seen the bloody rags that Fran kept stashed under her mattress. This wasn’t going to go away. Maybe it was time to tell Mom and Dad. But Jolene was afraid that Fran would hate her. She needed her sister’s love. She cared deeply what this younger girl thought of her.

Fran looked down in shame. She didn’t want her sister to see this side of her. Jolene knew her guilt, but Fran didn’t want her to know what it was doing to her. It had paused, but it would start again. She wouldn’t feel anymore. Everything, the whole world, would mute. In moments of terror and confusion Fran would reach for the razor she kept hidden. The smooth slices she made would feel good, satisfying. In these moments, the blood that rushed forth brought some sort of justice. Fran felt that she had paid a small amount of the due she owed. But there were so many scars, and they would take longer to heal. She couldn’t let Mom or Dad or Jolene see them, then they would know her shame. Jolene smiled gently and turned from her sister. Fran breathed a sigh of relief.

Fran stood up and reached for the clothes that Jolene had laid out the night before. Her favorite jeans, a blue button up shirt and her new red sneakers. As she dressed Jolene watched Fran’s scares disappear under her clothes from the doorway. Jolene was so worried after this mornings dream, it had seemed worse. Maybe she should tell Mom and Dad. The girls ate breakfast smiling and chit chatting with their parents. It was a normal morning with American cold cereal and orange juice. The family was at peace. Fran and Jolene were in a state of great contemplation, one thinking of telling the truth, the other thinking of solutions. Fran decided she would pay her price, and Jolene decided she would keep her sister safe by betraying her, but not till dinner.
* * *

Walking home after school, rain begin to fall on Fran’s head. Mud formed in the dirt at the edge of the side walk. The world begin to transform from bright and sunny to dim clouds and browns. Fran found comfort in this familiar color as her shoes merged with the new hue. Ideas of escape raced though her mind. Guilt weighed down on her every move. Fran couldn’t stand it any longer. Even the mud couldn't not stop the red of her shoes from yelling at her. She had to do it soon. A loud rumble begin to fill her ears as a city bus approached. The heavy machine would be her freedom.

Fran had forgotten all about Jolene trailing behind her, and Jolene saw Fran’s plan form in her mind. She couldn’t lose her sister. This couldn’t happen. Time slowed. Fran stepped off the curb, Jolene followed. Fran raced to catch the bus as it accelerated up the hill. Jolene followed. Fran stood with arms spread and eyes closed, then was jolted. Jolene felt the weight of the bus smash her small body, every bone and muscle screamed. Fran’s head hit the curb, red filled her vision and life seemed over. A smile lighted on her face.