Status: Infrequent updates!

Salt

The Girl Who Cried Wolf

The day droned on like no other, I spent my time between texting my friends and cleaning out my room. It wasn't exactly what I'd call productive, but I had to do something until Zoey would come home. To say I had a few questions for her wouldn't half cover it.

For starters, with everything that had happened since I woke up, it made me think the worst. Then, the last night that mom and I fought, I discovered she was on a suspicious call – how could I possibly let that go? And then, of course, there was the night she got high, I hadn't forgotten.

I'd seen my sister while she was soaring plenty of times, but to walk in on her completely dazed and engaging in sex with not just one person, but two... it was enough to make me see I'd had enough.

She was fifteen years old, not five, she knew what she was doing at this point. She'd had months on end to redeem herself, I wasn't going to allow this to go on any further. Because, at the end of the day, she was hurting more than just a handful of brain cells.

I was emptying out some old jewelry, tossing all of it my black bag when I heard the crinkling of something so old I'd previously believed it was missing. My hands catching onto the dry macaroni and pasta, my instinctive reaction was to tie it around my neck and claim how much I loved it.

Zoey made it for me when she was fresh out kindergarten, saying with her cute little lisp that the teachers asked she design it for someone she loved, and she chose me, because I told her the monsters under her bed only wanted to keep her safe, they'd thought of her as a friend.

My hand hovered over the plastic bag, debating.

The loud bang of the front door alerted me to her arrival, so I dropped everything and descended the staircase, meeting her hard, tired eyes at the bottom.

She dumped her bag and coat, like she always did, ready to face both our parents. However, I fully believed they could wait.

I went to speak, but she caught me off early by facing the door again, a look on her face I hadn't seen for a long time.

"Ciara followed me home," Just those words halted me, instead of screaming at my sister, my hand clasped around hers by its own accord. "I don't know what she wants. The way she stared at me all day... it's like she could eat me."

Telling her to go to her room, I opened the door and, sure enough, Ciara was making her way up the porch steps, handbag smacking her all the way.

Like myself, Zoey had been the target of numerous pranks and harassment by the Ice Queen, although with them being the same age, I'd somewhat gathered she received the back of them first.

"I want you to leave her alone," I held her gaze for long as I could before I stepped outside. I didn't want her crossing the threshold.

She sniffed, head low.

"I had to get your attention somehow," When my breath hitched, she barely noticed and carried on talking. "I saw the board, you know, the one you and Ambrose are working on. I saw myself on it. I know you secretly wish it were me, but it wasn't... you've got it all wrong. I can help, I can, I–"

The scene before me wasn't something I was used to. To see an Ice Queen melt, exposed to the naked flame, and become a puddle in front of me – it definitely made my head stop. All thought, all clue of anything and everything she was about to say.

For another thing, she refused to meet my eyes. Ciara had never stepped down on a showdown.

I could feel her words, the way in which she quivered. About only one thing was I certain:

She was scared.

I didn't think she knew what fear was, except for the fact she could create a handbook on how to instil it in others. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd been brave, resolute... but this? This was new.

I went to reach for her, to comfort, but the sharp retreat of her body threw me.

"Don't touch me! You don't care about me, you don't care about how those accusations feel. You hate me, and you have every right to, but I am not a killer!"

The dim afternoon light cast a soft glow on her, shrouding in its protection should I go on the attack.

"Ashley, I don't know what to do. I've got people in one ear, whispering, and then the next there's you and Ambrose..." She scrunched up her nose. "And although that's icky enough, I don't think it's enough to threaten me over. It's not a crime to wish the best."

What?

She murmured something else I wasn't able to catch, but this time when I approached her, she didn't back off. Her eyes still glued to the ground, she somehow felt like that was safer than me.

To be honest, while I certainly wasn't reveling in Ciara's fear, I was confused. She followed my sister home so she could plea her innocence? It definitely wasn't like her to give a rat's ass about opinions, much less mine. Although, like she stated, this was a serious matter.

So, I told her the truth. Anything to calm her down and get her off my porch, I wasn't ready to deal with her vulnerable side yet. I'd been convinced now until she didn't even have one, she just almost seemed so controlled.

"You're a total bitch, Ciara, but you're not the number one suspect, okay? We haven't even started." My voice dropped off, as she scratched her arm, quite violently. "Did something happen? You said people were talking?"

Her shaking head didn't help, it twitched so jarringly, I had to squint. And I didn't know if it was the big sister in me, but now I wanted her in my house, even if just to fix her a cup of coffee.

"Whispering, but not whispering. I can't discuss it here," Finally, she lifted her head.

A girl that I was used to seeing so composed, so doll-like and beautiful, now resembled something out of a horror movie. Her brown eyes were wide, alert and going against her, as was the rest of her body, which shuddered so violently it piqued me entirely.

"I need to go home, I need to–" She turned to leave, but I knew I couldn't leave it like this, so I stepped forward and got in her way. "A-a-ashley please..."

“Did you take something? Are you high?"

The laugh that escaped her wasn't her own, I could feel it in my bones.

"Don't be stupid. I have to go, I'll talk to you later, I know I shouldn't be here."

"Ciara!"

Shrugging me off, she bolted out of sight, her frail and failing legs taking her somewhere new, or old. I pondered on following her, but then I remember Zoey.

She honest to God looked like she was high, but on some stronger stuff than my sister, it would be foolish of me not to call Ambrose, right? She was his family, he had the right to see if she was taking drugs.

Whatever she was on, it was potent. Somewhat against myself, I let go of everything she said and ambled up the stairs to find my sister.

I knocked on her door, catching her on her bed, smoking.

I folded my arms.

Putting as much thought about her classmate as I could out of my mind, I tried returning to my original plan for today.

"I think we need to talk,"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Ash, I already get the third degree from them, now I gotta deal with you too?"

"I don't care if it sounds like the same old speech, okay? You deliberately came home high as a horse and had two guys on either end of you. Was it them, did they supply you?"

Inhaling deeply, she blew it right in my direction, before getting up. Her eyes were hard, cutting, almost as if she wished she could do it for real.

"You're jealous I'm actually out here having a life while you waste yours away working at a fucking diner, pining over your oh-so-perfect ex-boyfriend and sticking your nose in other people's business." Grinding her teeth, her scowl deepened. "I do what I want, and you can fuck off."

I loved my sister, I really did. While she riled me up like no other, she made up for it by watching period dramas with me when she didn't need to, and sometimes stuck her neck out for me if the time called for it. There were many instances where I appreciated all that she did, and I had hoped she felt the same about me and what I provided in turn. My every reaction and action had been made out of love and respect, I thought that was reciprocated.

And here, to see my efforts thrown back in my face, just because I wanted what was best for her – it hurt. It ached and I bled ooze and I wanted to cry.

She was so far gone, beyond even my help that I couldn't answer. She'd see it as a win on her end for now, but soon I hoped she'd realize I wasn't playing the bad guy. I wanted my sister back.

"Ash, are you so blind-sighted by your raging superiority complex that you really can't see why someone might want to murder you? You're so busy snooping and talking about whoever wronged you that you're not even listening to yourself anymore?"

I swallowed, unable to stare her down. I burned with a fire I didn't want to quell, but I also couldn't unleash. So, I talked down the smoke as much as I could, even if I breathed it in and let it sit.

I would not choke.

Quickly, before I unleashed the blue flames, I slipped out of there, crashing my back against the door as it shut. So far, the spark hadn't died.

I got to my room, and dropped down to the floor, handling the macaroni necklace. Something so delicate, so sweet, it came alive in the steam, only to scream in the scorching temperature of my world.