Status: Gettin' there.
Sid and the Last Five Years
His Birthday.
Rain fell like angel's tears outside, hitting the pavement with such a repetitive pattern. The wood stove produced little heat to what it was called to do; the storm raged on outside. A dark overwhelming gray blanketed the sky, stars hidden behind the wet fog. I called for Adam, resulting the large thud of his heavy feet. He replied to me with a loud exclamation, as if to prove a point of some sort, but even I, his sister, could not understand the point he was trying to make. Not being able to communicate with someone, although you knew everything they said, must be completely frustrating; he was a foreigner, but he was not new to this country. “Adam, dinner is on the stove, in the pan.” It was warm enough to be enjoyed, yet cool enough so he wouldn't burn himself. “I love you, Adam,” I threw in, as I saw him hobble to the kitchen.
“I lurv ou oo,” he called back.
“I lurv ou oo,” I smiled. I heard the crash of porcelain hit the floor, the cry which typically came from a small child, and then the “thuds” of his feet, running away. Pasta was strewn amongst the floor, and I knew it. I shouldn't have let him dish himself up, I should have been the mother that wasn't here for us and provided for him on my own doing.
*
He sat against the wall with such ease, both sides of his mouth slyly lifting up, a crescent moon shown amongst his face. His dark brown hair grew longer by the day, greasy and knotted, hanging on the sides of his justified jaw-line. Deep, purple circles underlined his black eyes. Ash flew throughout the room; it was no longer cold.
Long, thick fingernails tapped along the inside of the tall closet walls. He rose to his feet, then losing balance, fell on his side, then laughed like a mother who had just heard her child's first words. Rolling to his side, I could see the outline of his ribcage, his bare chest exposed to me in the night. He licked his lips disturbingly, releasing a breath from deep inside his body. “You didn't think you would avoid conversation with me, tonight, of all nights would you?” His long, silk tongue wiped his sharp, stained yellow teeth, then wetted his lips once more; the fire never went out. “You're acting quite rude, don't you think?” I paused, opening my mouth to say something, the innocence I had before Year Nine was no more. “It is my birthday after all.”
He was slick, he was sly, his words were confusing and nearly conforming, but this was truthful, this was honest. It was his birthday. It was October fifth. Those long gray eyelashes, gray like the sky outside, fluttered like a butterfly's wings. “I should have assumed you wouldn't get me a present, you practically ignored the subject all year.”
I spent this day, last year, trying to forget, trying to repress the memories like every other year. But the more I pushed the thoughts back, the more they revolted up, like a distasteful food that could not be consumed and forced its way back up the throat. He found enjoyment in my misery, watching me suffer and writhe from his words. I winced at the thought that he was Five Years, now. It had been one-thousand-two-hundred-eighty-five drawn out, afflicting days since watching that cat be skinned with nothing but a dull razor blade- watching it gasp for air and life when there was nothing left to live for. It had been two-hundred-sixty weeks since the gasoline was poured by the gallons over the house, onto the floor, onto his body, onto the cat's, and the match was lit aflame. It had been five years since I lost my Dad; five years since I adopted Sid.
“Tell me 'Happy Birthday.' It's just two words, two words that'd mean nearly the world to me.” The feeling of hatred started to flush through my body, my cheeks turning red, my lips trembling. My hands shook with an uncontrollable vibration, as they rapidly beat silently against the sheet-less mattress.
“Happy Birthday, Sid,” I concurred, not willing to fire the first cannon over such a small statement.
“How about a birthday kiss? Step into my home, shall you? You haven't been in my house for quite some time- Actually Elli, I don't recall you've been in here, at all since we've moved. And why is that, is that because you're scared? Scared of what, I don't want to hurt you, I'm your best friend. I'm more a friend to you than your mom, or that whore's name you throw around like it's a bill in some strip joint. I'm better than your dad, who doesn't call you anymore, who should be locked up like the sick bastard he is- Oh, and we all know, he is, Elli. And of course, I've always been here for you, unlike Adam, who can't even speak a proper word to save his sad little life. I pity the-”
“You ugly fucking prick, you keep Adam out of this!” I screamed, saliva spewing out of my stretched mouth. I felt the soreness in my throat, the faint scratchiness, growing stronger. The fire was fueled; it burned. The thick smoke floating in the room, the fire smoldering like Sid's crooked laughter.
“It can be over,” he reminded me. “This is one of those games that you can get out of at any time, you know. It's simple really. It was almost over, once. I'm sure you remember. You're not a stupid girl, Elli, quit acting like it.” He warned me, with his confusing, tempting words, cheating me out of my life, cheating me out of the game. “I could give you everything you want-”
I turned the light on; he was gone.
“I lurv ou oo,” he called back.
“I lurv ou oo,” I smiled. I heard the crash of porcelain hit the floor, the cry which typically came from a small child, and then the “thuds” of his feet, running away. Pasta was strewn amongst the floor, and I knew it. I shouldn't have let him dish himself up, I should have been the mother that wasn't here for us and provided for him on my own doing.
*
He sat against the wall with such ease, both sides of his mouth slyly lifting up, a crescent moon shown amongst his face. His dark brown hair grew longer by the day, greasy and knotted, hanging on the sides of his justified jaw-line. Deep, purple circles underlined his black eyes. Ash flew throughout the room; it was no longer cold.
Long, thick fingernails tapped along the inside of the tall closet walls. He rose to his feet, then losing balance, fell on his side, then laughed like a mother who had just heard her child's first words. Rolling to his side, I could see the outline of his ribcage, his bare chest exposed to me in the night. He licked his lips disturbingly, releasing a breath from deep inside his body. “You didn't think you would avoid conversation with me, tonight, of all nights would you?” His long, silk tongue wiped his sharp, stained yellow teeth, then wetted his lips once more; the fire never went out. “You're acting quite rude, don't you think?” I paused, opening my mouth to say something, the innocence I had before Year Nine was no more. “It is my birthday after all.”
He was slick, he was sly, his words were confusing and nearly conforming, but this was truthful, this was honest. It was his birthday. It was October fifth. Those long gray eyelashes, gray like the sky outside, fluttered like a butterfly's wings. “I should have assumed you wouldn't get me a present, you practically ignored the subject all year.”
I spent this day, last year, trying to forget, trying to repress the memories like every other year. But the more I pushed the thoughts back, the more they revolted up, like a distasteful food that could not be consumed and forced its way back up the throat. He found enjoyment in my misery, watching me suffer and writhe from his words. I winced at the thought that he was Five Years, now. It had been one-thousand-two-hundred-eighty-five drawn out, afflicting days since watching that cat be skinned with nothing but a dull razor blade- watching it gasp for air and life when there was nothing left to live for. It had been two-hundred-sixty weeks since the gasoline was poured by the gallons over the house, onto the floor, onto his body, onto the cat's, and the match was lit aflame. It had been five years since I lost my Dad; five years since I adopted Sid.
“Tell me 'Happy Birthday.' It's just two words, two words that'd mean nearly the world to me.” The feeling of hatred started to flush through my body, my cheeks turning red, my lips trembling. My hands shook with an uncontrollable vibration, as they rapidly beat silently against the sheet-less mattress.
“Happy Birthday, Sid,” I concurred, not willing to fire the first cannon over such a small statement.
“How about a birthday kiss? Step into my home, shall you? You haven't been in my house for quite some time- Actually Elli, I don't recall you've been in here, at all since we've moved. And why is that, is that because you're scared? Scared of what, I don't want to hurt you, I'm your best friend. I'm more a friend to you than your mom, or that whore's name you throw around like it's a bill in some strip joint. I'm better than your dad, who doesn't call you anymore, who should be locked up like the sick bastard he is- Oh, and we all know, he is, Elli. And of course, I've always been here for you, unlike Adam, who can't even speak a proper word to save his sad little life. I pity the-”
“You ugly fucking prick, you keep Adam out of this!” I screamed, saliva spewing out of my stretched mouth. I felt the soreness in my throat, the faint scratchiness, growing stronger. The fire was fueled; it burned. The thick smoke floating in the room, the fire smoldering like Sid's crooked laughter.
“It can be over,” he reminded me. “This is one of those games that you can get out of at any time, you know. It's simple really. It was almost over, once. I'm sure you remember. You're not a stupid girl, Elli, quit acting like it.” He warned me, with his confusing, tempting words, cheating me out of my life, cheating me out of the game. “I could give you everything you want-”
I turned the light on; he was gone.
♠ ♠ ♠
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