Broken Wings

I stared out of the car window emptily, not really noticing anything. The man seated beside me in the drivers seat kept talking and talking but I just let it wash over me in a background hum.
"Are you listening to me?"
I turned to face him and I looked at the man emotionlessly. He glanced at me but shifted uncomfortably under my gaze.
"No," I replied quietly.
I turned back to the window and hissed. There was a field of colourful flowers and it was hurting my eyes. I brought my hands up to shield my eyes.
"Um..well...uh...do you...are you..."
The man I once knew as my father was stumbling over his words much like a newborn foal stumbles over its feet.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
"No," I replied in the same flat tone of voice.
"Uh...a-are you thirsty? I-I could stop--"
"No," I cut him off halfway through his stuttering mess.
"Oh...um...would you like to listen to some music?" he asked hopefully.
Music had once been a large part of my life. Key word being once.
"No," I answered him.
This man was not my father. He may have the same DNA as me but he was not my father. Or I should say, I wasn't his daughter. I'm no one anymore. I'm made of nothing. I feel nothing. I want nothing.
"Oh...okay..." his voice trailed off.
I closed my eyes and immediately a flashback hit me.

I coughed, choked and gagged as I was brought up from the water barrel.
"Please! No! Not anymore!" I begged. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and my whole body was heaving and shaking with sobs.
"Please stop it! Please!" I screamed.
"You have not been purged yet...your sin...crimes...you still need more treatment...it'll all be over soon," his voice twisted through the air like a vicious serpent.
I struggled against the grips of the two beefy men beside me.
"Please...please don't let him do this to me," I begged them, trying to appeal to their soft sides.
"My dear, these men have battled against more conniving people than you...but don't worry, if all goes to plan this section of your treatment should be over soon. Drop her," he ordered the beefy men.
I screamed out as the two men forced my face into the ice cold water again.

When I opened my eyes again my muscles were coiled up and I felt a strange feeling in my body. It wasn't an emotion. I can't remember the last time I felt one of those. But it was weird. My heart was pounding faster and my throat had closed up. I couldn't breathe and my mouth felt dry.
"Max...are you okay?" the man's voice had raised in agitation.
I frowned.
"Max?" I asked.
I caught the troubled look he gave me.
"Tha-that's your name. Or more accurately, your nickname," the man said.
Max...Max...short for...Maxine. That was my name. Maxine Serenity Iero.
"I'm fine. Tired," I lied.
It was so easy. The three words slipped off my tongue as easily as one-two-three.
"Oh...okay..."

The rest of the drive was silent. I didn't offer any conversation and neither did my father. We pulled up into a driveway and I looked up at the house that had once been a home to me. I unbuckled myself and climbed out of the car. I went to grab my bag but my father already had it.
"I can take it," I said.
He forced a smile and shook his head.
"Nonsense. I'll take it, you just concentrate on getting settled at home," he said.
Home...the word tasted weird, even in my thoughts. I didn't have a home. Not anymore.
I followed my father up to the door and stepped through. I was struck by the familiarity and cosiness of the place. It was uncomfortable. I looked around to see wooden walls, timber floorboards and colour. There was colour everywhere! I winced and squinted my eyes. It was blinding and painful to look at so much colour. I never thought I'd want to go back to my grey cement prison but a wave of longing washed over me for the flat monotone grey buildings.
I walked further into the house and looked around. I felt like I had retina burn from all the colour I could see. I walked through a doorway to see three boys. I paused in the doorway and looked at what they were looking at. It was a television. It had a playstation hooked up to it and they were playing some sort of game.
"We're home!" my father's voice rang through the house loudly and I cringed.
"Max..."

I turned to look at the speaker. It was a short boy of about sixteen years old. He had a mop of dark brown-black hair and he had green-hazel eyes. He had gauged ears, a pierced nose and lip and was staring at me in shock.
"MAX! You're back!" he cried delightedly.
His whole face was lit up in an expression of happiness, his thin lips pressing together and stretching into a smile. That smile is what jogged my memories. That boy was my brother, Frank Anthony Iero Jr.
"Frank," I tried, for his sake, to inject some sort of emotion into my voice but I could tell it failed by the fall of his face.
"Max?" he asked uncertainly.
"Yes?" I asked.
"Oh...uh...nothing...um...how...how are you?" he asked.
I could see in his eyes he was unnerved by my lack of emotion and reaction but I couldn't help that.
"I'm fine," I replied.
My voice sounded dead. Completely void of any sort of emotion or feeling.
"How are you?" I asked out of sheer politeness.
"I-I'm okay..." he trailed off, looking kind of lost and scared.
"That's good," I said.
The silence that settled between us was heavy and awkward.
"Hi! I'm Gerard," the boy to the left of Frank said.
He had long, shaggy, black hair and tense hazel eyes. He had very pale skin and my eyes flickered to my own skin. He was as pale as me and I was as white as a corpse.
"Max," I said.
"I'm Mikey," the boy to the right of Frank said.
He had innocent, brown eyes that were hidden behind black square-rimmed glasses. He was also quite lanky and had a mess of brown-blonde hair.
"Max," I repeated.
I could tell they were all uneasy being around me.
"MAX!"

Frank's P.O.V.

With horrified eyes, I watched the girl turn to our mother.
"Mother," she said.
Her face was completely void of emotion and so was her voice. She looked like the living dead. Her eyes were a dull grey instead of her previous sparkling blue, her ebony hair once shiny and bouncy lay limp and flat against her skull and her skin was like soft ivory. Our mother pulled her into a hug and I saw the girl stand there awkwardly before placing her arms limply around our mother. It's like she wasn't even there anymore. Someone had completely destroyed my sister. Our mother pulled back and wiped tears off her face before smiling falsely at Max.
"Come on, I'll show you up to your room," our mother said.
She left her arm around Max's shoulders and started leading her away.

"Well...she's a ray of fucking sunshine," Gerard said.
I felt sick to my stomach. I thought I was going to hurl at any moment.
"That's not my sister," I whispered.
"It isn't?" Mikey asked me.
I shook my head. I could feel the tears filling up my eyes.
"That's not my sister. That's not Max. That's her body...but that's not her. No way," I said, in denial.
"Dude, calm down, you're going to go into hysterics if you're not careful," Gerard said.
"That's not Max! My Max would be kicking my ass at Mario right now. She would be bounding in, sitting on your lap and poking fun at Mikey for being so skinny while kicking my ass at Mario. That...that...thing...person...whoever she is...she's not my sister," I said.
I was horrified by the actions of the girl claiming to be Max. I felt an irrational surge of anger towards my father.
"THIS IS YOUR FAULT! YOU sent her there! YOU did! YOU couldn't accept that your precious little daughter was a little different to you! AND NOW I HAVE A FUCKING ZOMBIE FOR A SISTER! I HATE YOU! I! HATE! YOU!" I screamed at my father.
"Whoa...calm down mate!" Gerard said, placing a restraining hand on my arm.
"I...I thought it was for the best..." my father said insecurely.
"THE BEST THING TO HAVE DONE WOULD HAVE BEEN TO LEAVE HER THE HELL ALONE! YOU NEVER SPENT ANY TIME AROUND US ANYWAY!" I shouted.
I wrenched my arm out of Gerard's hand and shoved him away from me. I was shaking in anger and practically seeing red.
"Frank! Stop it!" Mikey yelled at me.
"You don't know anything Mikey so stay the fuck out of it!" I snarled.
I walked up to my father and glared at him, right in the eyes.
"I hope you burn in hell."