Trust And Hope

Chapter 4

"Hi, thank you so much for coming," Mrs. Johnson said, opening the door with a warm smile. "Sierra has two sisters, but they're twin sisters, so I'm afraid she feels more lonely and isolated than ever. Sierra pushed all her friends away when Sasha died. I think she just needs someone who knows what it feels like."

I gave a small nod. "Yeah, I get that."

Mrs. Johnson led us upstairs. I surveyed the house looking for traces of Sierra and her sister to try and get to know the girl. At least as much as you can through photos. Finally, on the wall, among a bazillion other pictures was a picture entitled Sierra and Sasha. It had a little girl maybe eight and an older girl behind her who looked about ten or eleven. The younger one had semi-long blondish brown hair and bangs and the older one had the same color hair but hers was cut down to her shoulder. She had multicolored braces that fitted her bright and happy smile. She had her arms around the younger girl lovingly, reminding me of what Richelle and Eva used to do with Gabby and me. Lately, I don't know why, but everything reminded me of Eva.

Mrs. Johnson paused by a closed door and knocked quietly. No one answered, so she cracked the door open and called, "Sierra, I've got someone here who wants to meet you." Still no answer. She pushed the door all the way open. "Sierra?"

"Go away!" A voice screamed, slamming the door shut.

"Sierra, calm down," Mrs. Johnson said. She shot us an apologetic look.

"I don't need another pity friend," Sierra snapped as she opened the door. This girl couldn't be the sweet-looking little girl from the picture. This girl was a tall twelve-year-old with dirty blonde hair cut just above her chin and a sharp tongue. I now knew why I was nervous earlier.  What had I gotten myself into?

"Sierra, please," Mrs. Johnson pleaded. "She's just here to help."

"Mom, I told you I don't need another pity friend," Sierra growled.

"Sierra-"

"Please, Mom, just take her away," Sierra said.

What a warm welcome I was receiving. Not hostile at all. Nope, not condescending or supercilious in any way at all. Nope.

"Sierra Beth Johnson," Mrs. Johnson said sternly. "You will not talk to me in that tone of voice. Give it a chance. Am I clear?"

Sierra frowned, seemingly making the corner of her mouth touch her chin. "Yes, ma'am." She looked at me. "Well, come in I guess."

I stepped in and surveyed the room. A twin bed stood to the side of the room with a string of lights hanging from it. A string of yarn hung above the bed with a few pictures hanging from it. Two were the ones from the hallway and one that looked fairly recent, maybe from the previous year. One was of a little two-year-old holding a baby in her arms with her mother supporting her. And the last one was of Sierra and her two younger sisters, Sierra holding a framed photo of Sasha.

Mrs. Johnson and my mother walked back downstairs. Sierra turned to me, her blue eyes full of sorrowful anger. I knew that it looked too well.

"I don't need sympathy," Sierra said. "So don't even try."

"I wasn't going to give you-"

"I just want to be left alone," Sierra added haughtily.

"Okay-"

"And I don't need your pity, so keep it to yourself," Sierra punctuated.

"I wasn't-"

"It won't make me feel better," Sierra interrupted.

Wow. This girl was very used to getting her way just because she was the walking pity party. Man, I would never have gotten away with that. I took a deep breath to calm myself before speaking, as my mother taught me. "Okay."