In the Process

“Hey, Liz, have I ever told you about the man beast?” Momma said, looking from the waves to me. She flashes a smile, expecting an answer.
I shrug. “No.” This is true. Dad doesn’t like it when she tells me stories. He says it fills my head with false ideas. But I don’t see him around.
“Well, there was once a man. This man lived in the middle of nowhere. Children would tease him, saying that he was too ugly to be loved. Truth is, his wife had died and his children were grown. That man got a disease. With this disease his spine hunched, he grew claws, and his teeth got extra sharp.”
Momma tries to act the way the monster would look. I look down at a sleeping Kindle in her lap. Was she crazy? What would happen if Kindle were to wake up and hear this? Unconsciously, I stroke Kindle’s hair, covering her ears slightly as I look at my mother as if she had lost her mind. She just chuckles.
“Oh, now, your baby sister is sleeping. I’m sure about that.” said Momma as if stating a fact.
I wouldn’t call Kindle my baby sister anymore. She is six now, almost up to my elbow,
“Anyway,” she continued. “He went into town for revenge. One thing you have to remember, is that everyone has something against everyone. So the man became blood-thirsty. He bit and killed. And those who survived turned into one of him. These things, they reproduce. They have wits. They aren’t like the normal zombie disease people think are stupid. These will outsmart you.”
I wince at the thought. “Why are you telling me this?” I accuse. I stare down at Kindle. They always told me to watch after her. And that is what I am going to do.
“Because there is a happy ending. They all ended up killing each other.” Momma said matter-of-factly.
I swallow bile as I think of the gruesome scene. What kind of person puts this kind of thing into a thirteen year old’s mind? She must have registered the look on my face because she adds to that.
“The moral is: People can be ugly. But in the end fire beats fire. You just gotta learn not to get burned.” And she smiles, brushing my hair behind my ear.

A cough shattered my dream. My eyes slowly open to bright sunlight. I groan and cover my face with my arm. I can feel Kindle’s eyes on me, she laughs halfheartedly. I know she is far too interested in her book to care about my discomfort.
“How’d you sleep?” asked Kindle in a mumble.
I move my arm and open one eye. She stares at a book, biting her thumbs nail. Her auburn hair tumbles into her face, she brushes it away impatiently. I can see her hazel eyes scan the page.
“I had a nightmare.” I find myself mumbling.
“What’s new?” Kindle asks as I bury my face into a pillow.
“It was about mom.”
There was a pause as I slowly breathe my way back into slumber. I had only just slipped under when Kindle spoke again. Her voice wavering. Cracking like ice under pressure.
“What was it about?” her voice was barely a whisper.
She is now fourteen. This is the age when one can’t truly rely on self control to keep tears from spilling over. I don’t want her to cry. I can’t even bare the thought. I prop myself on my elbows and look over at her. Her book rests in her lap as her long legs are crossed. Despite me being seven years older, she is taller one. Yet she, like me, has a petite frame with prominent curves that hardly keep the boys away.
Poor Kin, she still can’t talk about Momma, I think as I watch her. Her eyes bore into me. Momma died about four years ago of cancer. After that, Dad rarely came home. And then when I turned eighteen, he signed custody of Kindle over to me and gave me the house for my birthday. He still pays for our food and the house bill, but I rarely use it for anything else. He sends Kindle money, but sends me nothing except enough for food and the mortgage. I’m lucky to even get a call now.
“It was a memory. You were six.” I say, sitting up and tucking her under my arm. The motion was so easy. I had done it so many times.
“Oh.” she said with an audible gulp. She was swallowing her tears. This made me sigh.
“Hey.” I said, poking her shoulder. “You know you have an amazing sister, right?” I asked, trying so desperately to change the subject.
It worked. She smiles and tosses herself away from me to roll her eyes.
“Pft. Yeah right. I must have another sister then.” she says. I can’t help but chuckle at her non-sense.
As I stand, I can hear my joints popping in a chorus of pleasure. The sound assures me that I am stiff and need to walk. My shoulders roll up, and I clasp my hands together as I stretch my spine. I glance back at her, a teasing smile playing on my lips.
“Yes. You were adopted. We found you on our doorstep. You looked like a goblin then. And you still do. Now shut up and read your book.” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I was surprised at how natural it came so early in the morning. Of course Kindle didn’t look like a goblin. She was beautiful.
I shut the door behind me, relieved to see her pick up her book with a quiet laugh that shook her whole body. We used to have separate rooms, each on one side of the hall. Now those rooms are empty, just like the other three guest bedrooms, all that remained was a twin sized bed. Now, we sleep in the master bedroom, decorated with both selections of our stuff. When dad left, we couldn’t be apart for very long. So we moved to a common room.
I could see where the hall branched off to the right to lead to our old rooms. But I went left to head down the staircase. Dad was, and still is, the CEO of his own company. He let Momma pick the house because she was the one who would be in it the most. The house was a victorian style home. Upstairs, a porch wrapped around the whole house, mimicking the porch on the main floor. Kindle could see the beach from her side of the house, whereas I could see the farm. I prefered my side better, but we ended up with a view of both the beach and the barn.
Padding down the stairs was easy. The hardwood floor wasn’t so easy. Stepping from the carpeted steps to the cold hardwood was like a rude awakening. A shiver was sent up my bare feet to my spine, where it racked my body and made my teeth clack together like the sound of crackling fire. I was in even more a hurry to slip my boots on. Kindle was stubborn when it came to the temperature in the house. She wanted it to be cool so she could sleep better, no matter how much hypothermia I might catch.
The french doors in the kitchen were open, letting a light breeze carry the smell of the beach into the house. It was refreshing, thawing my iced insides and tingling my skin into goosebumps. A small bag of apples rest on the counter. Kindle must have been up longer than I thought. I tossed the bag over my shoulder as I walked toward the front door. The frontyard is a strange sight to see. Half of the yard is sand-dunes and sand, and the other green grass. I chose the path of grass.
The barn is a traditional barn, red with white borders. Yet it was also larger and longer than most. White fences bordered the barn, with hungry horses trotting along their lines. We had twelve exactly: one stallion, three geldings, four mares, and four foals. The barn had also been swept and the stalls had been mucked. Why had Kindle put herself through so much trouble? Unless she was buttering me up for something. Nonetheless, I fed the horses before heading back toward the house.
Kindle was waiting in the living room, no longer in her pajamas. My eyebrow rose as I watched her. She wears a wide smile as if asking something before she even said anything.
“Hey Liz.” she says, her voice a little too high and cheery.
“Yeah?” I ask slowly, warily.
“Can you take me to a party?” she asks.
I knew it. She wanted something. She must have known the normal answer. I didn’t like parties. And she didn’t seem to either. I don’t want to. But she bats her eyes. I was about to open my mouth to object but I sigh instead.
“Fine.”

It wasn’t a very pretty place. Nor did it look clean. I have to glance at her to see if it’s the right place, despite the teenagers that poured out. Kindle, herself, looked unsure. She looked back at me, and then shrugged. She shouldered the car door open -because dad decided to sell my brand new mustang and get me a old truck- and stepped out.
“Hey” I call out, but I don’t know what to say. Truthfully, I just don’t want her to leave. I don’t like this place. I don’t like the people that dance around the house. I don’t like the red cups they carry around. “Would it be lame if I came in?” I ask, finally finding a way to put it.
She too seems relieved. “No, not at all.” Kindle said with a smile that melted my heart. “I mean only a small bit of emotional trauma of my big sister being at a party with me will actually remain. But I’m fine with it.” she adds with a fan of humility.
I smirk as I turn off the engine. The inside of this abandoned house is, well… Let’s just say it’s worse than outside. Teenagers swarm around, weaving in and out of chattering groups. Somehow I lose Kindle. When I looked at her earlier, she didn’t seem unsure anymore. The look on her face spoke “My people!” with a glorified expression.
So I did what I knew how to do at parties. I weaved in and out of people trying to find a comfy corner to sit in until Kindle found me asking to leave. This wasn’t her first party. But, unfortunately, someone decided to be in my way while I wasn’t watching. So rude. He was tall, I realized as he turned to face me. I envy tall people because I got the shorter gene.
He was also handsome with chiseled features. His eyes were green, his hair mahogany. Like the angels Momma used to always tell me were watching over me when I slept. Well now, I wasn’t sleeping and one of those beautiful angels was literally watching over me.
He had one of those red cups in his hand. He smirks down at me, a predatory look to those luminous green eyes. Somehow he looks me up and down, which I don’t understand how considering the big fact that he towers over me. I want to slap the smirk off his face.
“Hello Goldilocks.” said he. He has a faint irish accent as he took a lock of my hair between two fingers. My hair is indeed blonde, and my eyes blue. People say I look just like Momma did, but then strangers think Kindle and I are twins.
“Hello Gigantor.” I shot back. I can hear some people snicker. He is tall and muscular, so the name fits him. He doesn’t seem to like his new nickname. A vein in his neck jumps, and his hands twitch into a fist. This brings me pleasure and I smile. His smirk was gone. He reaches out. I think he is going to hit me so I stiffen and prepare myself. Instead I see a hand extended. Now I am confused, and he sees this. That damn smirk is back again.
“Collin.” Gigantor says, his hand still out stretched as if he expects me to take it. I don’t want to. I don’t like him. I want to hit him. But I shake his hand.
“Elizabeth.” I say, trying not to talk through my teeth. His hand is huge, and I realize that I am just small. Though he may be more muscular than the rest of the scrawny teenagers. Collin has tiny stubs of dark hair on his chin and jawline. Suddenly I realize he isn’t a teenager.
“Well, Elizabeth,” He said, tasting my name. I didn’t like it in his mouth. “This is my brother’s party. And you don’t seem to be his type.” says Collin matter-of-factly as he gestures to a boy slightly behind him. The boy wasn’t as perfect. He wasn’t as tall or muscular either. He had a very distinguished scar on his temple. A girl with auburn hair cascading to her shoulders rests under his right arm. She watches him, struck in awe at this boy who I assume is Collin’s brother. The girl then noticed he wasn’t looking at her anymore, but me. In fact everyone is looking at me. I recognize the girl. I’d known her all me life. Kindle.
“Actually,” I drawl my words slowly. He seems to be irritated by it. Good. “My sister is the one hanging on to lover boy.” And I motion to my own beautiful sister.
Collin glances back at his brother and my sister. “Is she really her sister, Brian?” he asks. Brian shrugs and looks down at Kindle who looks at him and nods, flashing an apologetic smile. Collin laughs.
“So Kindle is your older sister?” asked Collin, smiling a smile that would normally freeze me in awestruck if I wasn’t mad. Again with the height. “How old are you, kid?”
Kindle and I both open our mouths to answer, but she quickly closes her mouth with an audible snap.
“No, meathead.” And there went my patience. I am satisfied. He looks at me in astonishment. “I’m her older sister. And twenty one to be exact.” I snap at him. “Now explain this to me. You are: twenty two, twenty three. What are you doing in a party I know isn’t yours?” I ask, drawling my words again. That vein jumps in his neck. I try not to smile.
“It’s Brian’s birthday.” says Collin. His eyes not leaving my face. Everyone who was watching began talking again at the mention of it almost as if they forgot.
“Ah.” I say quietly, understanding. Which is true. Even I understand this. Birthdays are the only days anyone gets what they want in our family. Even Dad calls me and asks me what I want. I know it pains him as much as it pains me. Momma died a week before my birthday.
Collin nods stiffly. He must have lost someone too around this time of the birthdays. Even Brian looks all too sober while Kindle tries to cheer him up. They remind me of how Momma and Dad used to be before he found the company. Kindle never saw this. She’d never know the resemblance.
Collin turns back to continue his conversation, acting as if I hadn’t interrupted them in the first place. My gaze slowly shifts from him to my sister and the boy with the scar - Brian. She had given up the attempt to cheer up Brian, he looked too far away to reach, and she stares at me, her face blank like it always gets when she’s mad. I had made Brian, the person who makes her happy, unhappy. I see a flicker of anger within her eyes. The same flicker I saw when Dad would come home to Momma telling me stories. I wanted to fall to my knees and sob.
“Kindle, I-” I begin. But what will I say? That I’m sorry? I’m not. I can’t lie to Kindle. But she cuts me off with a glare as Brian suddenly looks down at her and smiles. She feels the movement and smiles as she looks up at him. He looks at her and kisses her forehead. Oh, so now he’s here.
And then there is a scream. The scream is blood curdling, sending chills up my spine. I had only heard a scream like that once in my life: when Kindle had stepped on a nail and it drove through her foot. For some reason I look to Collin. But he’s already gone, shoving people out of his way as he storms toward the scream. They are moving against him toward the door jogging, running: their faces masks of horror.
“Brian, the guns!” Collin’s voice booms from the other room. I watch as Brian pulls my sister up the stairs, which looks much nicer than the downstairs.
“Kindle!” I scream desperately, trying to push against the moving crowd of people. I fail. Teenagers are screaming in panic as they rush toward the door to leave. They sweep me closer and closer toward the door, bumping me with shoulders. I see an opening and run against the wave of bodies. People part to make a way for me. Then I see it.
A ginger shape stands in the middle of an empty room. Its covered in fur that lays silky against its humped back. It’s legs look canine but it’s arms are human-shaped with long wolverine claws. “Have I ever told you of the man beast?” Momma asks. It suddenly looks up from a groaning girl crumpled bloody on the floor. The monster smiles widely with razor sharp teeth, it’s features clearly masculine. And all I can do is scream.