What We Used To Know

How many more weeks of school?

N/A.

How many more days?

Two.

Finally, the end of the year was here. The actual end. Already. The months had passed faster than I would have ever thought; yet, here we were. Our exams were happening this week. All we had was Thursday and Friday left, and then we were done, for the entire summer. Here we were, getting ready for year nine.

I was scrambling about the second story of my house, trying to find the matching sock to the one I was already wearing. Oliver was just leaning against a wall by the stairs, laughing at me as I dashed around madly trying to at least find another clean pair - I hadn’t done laundry in a while, and was out of socks.

Yes, Oliver was actually in my house. And I didn’t mind.

I didn’t want to say that things magically changed after we skipped school to go sit in the park that one day, but they just fell into place it seemed. It didn’t take as long as it should have for me to let him in completely, and start being his friend. He didn’t mind either, because we had been talking regularly ever since. Our walks to and from school weren’t silent, and if they were, it was because there really was nothing to say. What I loved most, was the silence was comfortable. It was the type of thing where we could just walk next to each other and think about different things, yet still be physically together. It obviously had never been that way before.

All of the other times it had been awkward and almost painful.

How was it that it only took a day for us to become inseparable, when it had taken seven months for him to even come within a meter radius of me? I would never know, and maybe I didn’t want to.

I’d never made a friend so fast. A friend that I actually trusted. This was new to me, and Oliver knew that.

Two weeks of friendship had flown by faster than any other day that I had gone without a friend beforehand.

“Just go without it, Addie. We’re gonna be late!” he called to me as I ransacked my drawers for the third time in five minutes. There just simply was not another clean sock. All I had was this one, and no mate for it. And I didn’t even have another clean pair.

Somehow I always wondered how I would end up with only one sock, and no match for it. But then I realized that going off on this tangent in my head really wasn’t going to help me.

“But I need another sock!”

“Just go get one from your mum’s room. We gotta go, Ad.” I sighed, giving in. The door to my parents’ room was open, and I slipped inside the dark room, fumbling about trying to find their dresser. Alas, I found a pair of socks that was too big for me, but it was going to have to do. There was no way I was going without socks, so I was willing to sacrifice a bit.

The phone started ringing before I left the room though, and I made my way over to the nightstand where it was perched, lighting up.

“Hello?”

“Adelaide this is your father,” came my father’s voice on the other end of the line. He seemed abnormally tense and stern for this early in the morning. It was barely 7:20 and yet he sounded like he did after he came home from working nearly twelve hours at the office. I shuddered a bit when I heard him speaking.

“Yes, dad?” I was scared to hear what he might have to say next, just by the way his voice sounded when he said those five words.

“Why weren’t you at school a few weeks ago? It says here on your progress report that you missed a day o’ school.” I tensed at his words. Had he really seen my progress report? They weren’t supposed to send those.

“I’ve never missed a day of school dad, you know that. Been there everyday,” I lied smoothly, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell. Luckily, he wasn’t in the room with me, because my eyes were flitting all over the place.

“Well it says ‘ere you have an excused absence. An’ we both know you’ve never missed a day. So Addie, why weren’t you there? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know… maybe they fouled it up somehow.” I grew increasingly nervous as he started to catch on.

“Or maybe you were skippin’ school. Did you skip, Addie? Did you?” Somehow he sounded heartbroken that I managed to skip one measly/b] day of school. He sounded hurt and betrayed, like I had done something terrible. “I really thought you were above all that shite, Addie. Nothin’ like that damned brother o’ yours. Well, you didn’t used to be. You’re becoming your brother, Adelaide.”

“Dad, it was one day!” I tried to reason, trying to calm him down. He was completely overreacting to this. Did he think just because I took a hooky day one time, that I would automatically get into drugs?

Apparently so.

“Addie if you’re gonna keep doin’ this, there’ll be consequences. I can tell you that righ’ now.”

I didn’t feel like arguing with him over the phone, especially while Oliver was standing just outside the room near the stairs. “I cannot talk about this right now, dad. I’ve got to go to school.”

It hurt more than anything to hear my father tell me directly that I was becoming my brother. Did he have no heart? Could he not clearly see how much damage Jordan had already done to me, and that really, comparing me to my own flesh and blood - that I occasionally hated - would really only make things worse? I felt like crying, yelling, kicking and screaming. How dare my father say that I was going to become a person who cared about nobody but themselves, who put their entire family through hell, and dragged them back, all because they were addicted to some substance that they couldn’t get enough of, and would do anything to get more of it. Even if it meant stealing from their baby sister. Oh, Jordan, did you really think that I wouldn’t notice when the more than one hundred pounds in my room went missing? Yes, I noticed. And when you came home that night more messed up than ever, I knew it was you.

Father, don’t you dare say that I will ever become my brother, for I will have to call you on that one.

Adelaide Kaston will never, ever become a drug addict who skips school, stops caring about her surroundings, and decides that it’s perfectly fine to ruin the lives of those around her.

I walked back out near the stairs where Oliver was waiting, looking at the floor as he leant up against the wall. His head snapped up to look at me when he heard me coming, and I took a place on the wall next to him, leaning against it as well.

“So… what was that?” he asked quietly, peeking up at me through his hair that had fallen into his face.

“I don’t know… My dad just gave me some sort of guilt trip. He found out what we did that night when we skipped school and stayed at the park all day. He thinks I’m going to become Jordan now, all because of that day,” I admitted, gulping down a lump in my throat. Even though I knew that I would never become what Jordan is, it hurt more than anyone could have imagined when my father said that I was turning into my drug addicted brother.

“Aye, Addie. Don’t even think about listenin’ to him, because all three of us know he’s lyin’. That ain’t true at all. You’ll never be nothing like Jordan is, I know it.”

Somehow, it was comforting to hear Oliver say that, albeit weird. I’d never had him comfort me really, but he was doing a good job so far, even if it was a little limited.

“I’m scared,” I said, swallowing hard again.

***

I was walking back from the Sykes’ house, after eating dinner with them. When I had arrived home from school that day, the kitchen was literally stark empty. No food at all to be found. So, I decided to head over to Oliver’s and hang out there. I didn’t want to feel like I was going over just for food, because I really did want to spend some more time with Oliver.

That day at school, Peckerman had assigned a final project we needed to complete, so I suggested that we work on it together. Of course, he didn’t want to work on it. Oliver played videogames while I did each of our projects. His little brother, Tom, came in Oli’s room to join him, creating yet another distraction for me. I powered on though, convinced that I would have enough gusto in me to finish two final projects in one night.

I looked over at the pair of brothers, sprawled out on the floor as they played some sort of videogame. I couldn’t help but think that they really looked nothing alike at all. Tom had eyes that could put out a fire, they were so icy and cold looking. Oliver’s eyes were… I’m not really sure what color. They were a mix of green and brown, looking different every time I looked at them.

But of course Mrs. Sykes had invited me over for dinner, and I happily agreed to stay. It felt weird knowing now what the inside of Oliver’s house looked like, even though I had been in it numerous times by now. But just a few short weeks ago, I couldn’t even stand looking at the boy who marched out of it - to my side - every morning.

I looked at my house through the rain that was now pelting down on my head. It was hard to tell from the distance, but I could barely make out the figure of two cars. That meant that both mum and dad were here, which was rare. The only time that the two were here, together, at the same time, was usually in the late hours of the night, or early morning. Mum hardly ever arrived home before ten at night, and dad was home around eight. Usually.

Of course, what had been usual at all in these past months?

As I came up in front of the house, I saw that the cars both belonged to my parents. I wondered why they were both here so early, because it wasn’t even seven PM yet. I hoped that they wouldn’t mind that I was at Oliver’s house, eating dinner with his family.

They didn’t even know who Oliver was, let alone that he was now my best mate. It was like we had grown attached to each other’s hips within a matter of days. Certainly it was surreal, but I was finally happy that maybe something normal was happening to me. So, I just accepted it rather than question it. What else was there to do?

I had to hope that my parents wouldn’t care that I had actually made a best friend, and that I preferred his house to my own, simply because here, it felt so cold and empty, whereas at the Sykes’ residence, it was always full of life. Things were just better when I was with Oli. I felt normal. I felt complete, in an odd sense.

I heard sirens, but I didn’t think much of them. I figured some kid was in trouble, like normal, and the cops were after him now. That was usually the reasons behind all of the sirens in the neighborhood. Kids were always getting in trouble, and the authorities were sent after them. The sirens sounded like they were getting close, but I still didn’t pay any attention to them. This was usually normal.

I was walking up the drive now, preparing to get yelled at for not being at home studying and doing homework like I was supposed to. I hoped that Dad wouldn’t yell at me again like he had done so this morning over the phone when he told me he knew that I had skipped school with Oliver those weeks ago. Suddenly it was more than important that I missed a single day of school, compared to when Jordan used to skip an entire half year of school. Oh, I was really rebelling now, wasn’t I?

Slowly, I opened the door, cautiously walking in. I was expecting mum and dad to be sitting at the table, possibly discussing how I would be punished for my little “act.”

They weren’t sitting there, though. I already knew that for a fact without even stepping past the entryway. I heard voices. Three voices. One was mum’s, one was dad’s, and one was my brother’s. My heart had actually skipped a few beats at the sound of Jordan’s voice - I hadn’t heard him, or seen him in so long. Then, it skipped a few more beats when I really heard what was going on. The yelling was so intense I had to actually cover my ears as I neared the source of where it was all coming from - the kitchen.

“Goddamn it Jordan!” my father yelled. I heard something shatter. “How the hell did you manage to escape?!”

Another piece of glassware hit the floor - or so I presumed - as I walked up to the kitchen. I couldn’t see anything yet, but I was hearing it all.

“I had to come back to do something, dad,” Jordan said in a voice that made me want to have a sick. Something sounded very, very wrong with him tonight. He sounded more different than he ever had before. At this point, it was nearly impossible to recognize his voice; he didn’t sound like him at all. But I knew this was Jordan. And something big was about to happen, I could tell.

“Jordan, how could you have done that?” my mum was asking, her voice shaking as the volume of her voice steadily rose. She wasn’t yelling, but she was past the point of a casual talking voice. “You were supposed to be there to get better. Now look what you’ve done. You’ve ruined it all again, Jordan, just like you ruin everything else.”

“Well, mum,” Jordan started. I could see him now. He was holding something in his hand, I couldn’t quite tell what it was, since it was covered up. Mum was leaning against the counter, the phone in her hand. Tears were in her eyes, a few of them streaming down her face. I didn’t enter the kitchen; I doubted any of them even noticed I was in the house. Dad was leaning against the wall with the clock on it, and Jordan was inching closer to him. “I’m about to ruin everythin’ again, right now.”

I saw the devilish grin that spread across his face. From what I could see, his eyes were nothing but black pits. Utter, black pits. He unveiled what was in his hand, and before I could even blink my eyes there was a loud noise that made me crouch in shock. Blood spattered everywhere, and I heard my mum shriek almost as loud as the gunshot had been.

My eyes were wide in terror as I stared into the yellow - and now red - kitchen. I couldn’t even breath. In the next second, Jordan had the gun to his head. His eyes somehow found mine, and locked on me. I knew that he wasn’t really looking at me though, his eyes were too unfocused and lifeless for him to really realize he was looking at his baby sister. The same disgusting smile spread across his face for the final time as he fired again. He fell to the floor with his eyes rolled back in his head, the smile still slightly apparent on his blood-covered face.

More blood spattered everywhere. It was even on me, and I started screaming and crying. Mum was crying and screaming, too, her entire outfit splattered with blood, it was even in her hair. All she did was collapse onto the floor, clutching herself as she wailed in terror and fear.

I was already on the floor, balled up tight, closing my eyes. I was hoping that everything I had just seen was a lie. It was all… not true. It hadn’t happened, I swear it hadn’t happened.

My brother didn’t escape from his reform school to come back here. He didn’t pull a gun while arguing with my father. He didn’t shoot him to death. And last of all, Jordan didn’t commit suicide.

None of it happened. The longer I kept my eyes closed, the more it felt normal. In my mind, Jordan was still back at his school. Dad would be at work, alive, and mum would be at work too, not covered in the blood of her husband and only son.

It was like I couldn’t even hear anything around me anymore. The last thing I heard was our front door splintering open, people barging through. The men were all dressed in dark uniforms, bulletproof vests on. I couldn’t hear them as my eyes snapped open to watch them crowd around my dead father and dead brother. One of them came over to me, looking right into my eyes. I couldn’t do anything but stare. I couldn’t even blink.

I closed my eyes around me as I felt arms close around me, lifting me off the ground.

I went back to the place where Dad hadn’t even thought of leaving work yet; where Mum was working away, home still a distance thought in her mind; where Jordan wasn’t even a name we spoke anymore around the house.

Back when things were as normal as they could be in the last few months.

I could tell you now, nothing was ever going to be normal again. Ever.