Lips Red As Blood

14 |

Cora's lips quiver as she stares blankly at one of the televisions on the wall. She's barely focused on the monitor, more focused on trying not to cry. 

It's hard, though, and any movements Cora does will give away how she really feels. Close her eyes, and stray tears will slip through her lashes. Keep them open, and her vision will grow blurry. Once the crying starts, then Cora will have to stay in the bathroom for thirty minutes, frantically trying to wipe away her tears. 

So instead, Cora puts her attention on the growing numbness that's beginning to unfold through her. It is the only way she won't feel emotions. The vast colors of watercolor grey and blue, painting watery and barely-see emotions on top of her heart. 

Because for Cora, with emotions that come in too-vivid shades and too fiery reactions, the best way to cope is to lock them away. Buried and hidden — too deep for anyone to unbury — so that she can't feel the pain anymore. 

This last month has been a whirlwind of emotions: heartbreak from an ex, entertainment from a devil who can make Cora laugh, fury so deadly she can kill, and sadness so deep it cuts open a wound. 

Cora does the same exact thing she did six years ago: shove her emotions down, push them away so deeply, she won't be able to find them away. 

She exhales softly, eyes gluing towards the clock. It's been four hours since the doctors separated Cora from her sister. A few feet away, she hears a nurse comforting Irene. 

"I don't know what I'll do if Harper is gone," Irene sobs loudly, drawing attention. "It's been too hard with my husband's passing, but if my daughter is gone? I won't know how to keep moving on." 

The more Cora's mother wails, voice hysterically getting louder, the more Cora's teeth grind together. She doesn't even know why she's mad at Irene. All she knows is that Irene is getting absolutely on her nerves, with her over-dramatic sobbing. 

Cora stares up at the ceiling, head throbbing. 

"I love my child so much that—" A guttural cry escapes Irene, as she sinks into the chair once more—"what if she's gone?" 

What if she's gone? 

All of Cora's worries burst into tsunami's of grey dull butterflies, before she sits upright, fury boiling over. "Mother." Cora seethes, storming forward until she's a few inches away. "What do you mean, what if she's gone?" 

Irene looks back, startled. "Well, I just meant—" 

"What?" Cora's voice sharpens, a dagger prepared to stab a vulnerable spot. "What if she's gone? What will you do?" 

A mocking edge takes on Cora's words, and even though a voice is begging for her to calm down, Cora doesn't care anymore. All she wants is to rip apart this stranger. 

"Cora, I do not appreciate the tone you're using," Irene says, eyes narrowing. "You're not the only one hurting." 

"Oh, and you are?" sneers Cora, as she lets out a cruel laugh. "Right. That's rich, coming from you. Especially from you, since you decided to kick your daughters out of your house because we didn't get into the college you wanted us to get into. It's a wonder that I don't believe you care about us." 

Irene looks shocked, lips parting. But Cora has already crossed the line, jabbing a finger at her mother. "Do you know how many nights we suffered?" Cora's tone is a mix of anger and the verge of tears. "We waited for you to apologize and we would've gone back to you, but you never came. Harper had to get multiple jobs just to support both of us." 

"Cora. Please." Irene gazes back, pleading. "We shouldn't do this now. Not when Harper is in this state." 

Cora scoffs. "Like you even care. But fine, I won't bother you right now." She is about to walk towards the exit when her mother grabs her arm. 

"I cared," says Irene softly. "I cared about Harper, but I couldn't come back." 

Her daughter stares back, watching Irene shrink, looking so pitiful that Cora almost wants to comfort her. Instead, Cora wrenches away. "Your love should have been bigger than your desires," Cora says coldly, before striding towards the door. 

The door slides open, cool air greeting Cora. 

"Where are you going?" Irene calls. 

Cora turns for a fraction. "Away." 

Before her mother can make any more arguments, Cora is already gone, slipping through the night. Cool air whipping around, silver stars sprinkled through the midnight skies, Cora releases an exhausted sigh. 

Her hands start to shake and she leans against one of the rails, looking up. Nights like these are breathtaking and should be admired — but Cora can't do that tonight. Not when she's on shaky ground. Not when nobody is safe. Not when, hours ago, Harper was on the ground and bleeding because of Cora. 

Her mind flashes. Blood, the crimson-red liquid, dripping into golden-wine hair. Perhaps minutes before Cora arrived, Harper's brown eyes stared helplessly up at the sky, a shiver of fear bolting down her spine. Perhaps before, Harper wondered if she would die today. 

Cora's stomach pitches wildly and she lurches forward, vision unfocused. Now alone, Cora's emotions come flooding forward, the ones she shamefully tried to bury away. 

Releasing a raw cry, Cora's tears start for the first time in four hours. Her chest hurts too much and her heart pounds so fast she's afraid her body will tear apart and the watery liquid won't stop pouring downwards. 

Deep breathes, Cora. 

Her body doesn't respond. Instead, she just hunches against the rail, crying until her throat feels sore. Metal bites into clothes, but Cora doesn't care. All she wants is for her sister to be all right — that's what Cora wanted all her life — but now she can't even do that for Harper. 

Trembling, Cora's fingers find her phone. Then she quickly dials a number, heart pounding. 

After a few minutes, someone picks up. "Hello?" a familiar voice says, and Cora feels tears prick at her eyes again. "This is Harper Li's house, but if you're here for ice cream, smoothies, mochi balls, or oatmeal cookies, I'll have to charge you for twenty dollars. I personally think charging for sweet stuff is wrong, but Harper told me I had to make money if I wanted to stay in her house, so—" 

"Asher?" Cora's voice cracks slightly. "Can you come here? I kind of need someone right now." 

Author Note: 

okay uh question: what's going to happen next?