Ballet on Glass

Where Does She Begin?

**

Mom's furious again. She's been for the past half hour, and Dad has no idea how to calm her down this time. Neither Nora nor I know what to do either, but we know where it started.

Today, exactly five years ago.

When Mom had our baby brother, Declan.

She seemed fine after birth, and every other thing went very smoothly afterwards. Until she started seeing and hearing things.

Voices started calling to her, but one voice always stood out among them.

"I told you, didn't I? I told you..."

Hands with rotting fingertips would reach to grab her, and she would scream awake at night. Then she would get mad and start throwing things.

But the oddest thing was, and still is, all the while Mom throws tantrums and screams at anything and anyone, Declan always remains silent.

Like he is now.

Dad's trying his best to get Mom to calm down, while Nora watches the exchange with fear in her brown eyes.

My eyes however, are glued to Declan in his little rocking cot.

He's staring at Mom quietly, totally uncharacteristic of a baby boy less than a year old when his mother is yelling.

As if he senses my stare, Declan turns wide brown eyes at me.

Then he grins.

A sinister, sick grin only a terrible, inhumane villain would have.

"Dad, Mom! Look, Declan, he's... he's..."

Mom and Dad pause their banter and look at me pointing to Declan. Then Mom rushes to me and slaps me on the cheek.

"Don't you ever point at him, do you understand me?!"

I look at Mom's enraged face, then to Dad's sympathetic look and then to Declan. The grin has been replaced with the same blank stare from earlier.

I run to me and Nora's room, where I stay for the rest of the night.

I have no idea I've just opened Pandora's box.