Cassandra's Dead Sister's Bucket List ✔

-8-

·Cassandra·

There was glitter on my cheek. No matter how many times I washed my face, the tiny, shiny, annoying particles refused to leave. So I gave up and I started washing my teeth. My clothes in my suitcase must be smeared with glitter—whoever put that journal in there was trying to play a sick prank on me or something.

My eyes briefly leave my reflection in the big, rectangle-shaped mirror before me, casting them down to my sister's bucket list. Then, I quickly look again at my reflection, closing my eyes to only focus on the spicy-mint flavor of the toothpaste in my mouth.

I will pretend that's not there.

"Can you at least say something to me?" Katie asks.

Oh, I forgot she was here. It was she who placed the bucket list there after all, which only means she has been going through my stuff. Cool. So she is that kind of girl.

I throw her a sideways look since she is standing with her back against the door that is to my right. To avoid replying to her, I point at my busy mouth with my free hand.

She rolls her coffee brown eyes, stepping closer to me. Her hand lands on the white marble counter. "So, basically your sister was carrying out a bucket list and she died before completing it?" she queries, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

I gulp some water, swishing it inside my mouth, and then I spit it in the sink. "What happened to 'knocking on the door' for privacy?" I air-quote her words from earlier.

"That's just for the boys, and this is important. You refused to talk about it during dinner, but now you have no escape and I need answers," she demands. "So, did she complete the list or not?"

"I guess...she didn't." I shrug my shoulders, turning around so that my back rests against the sink. "Can you pass me the towel?" I gesture my hand behind her.

The small, crimson towel hits my face. My eyes widen at her, but her attention is solely focused on the damn bucket list that she is now holding in her hands. "And someone put her journal inside your suitcase without you knowing about it, and inside you found the bucket list?"

"Yeah." Boredom laces my tone.

"So somebody wanted you to find this." Her index finger pokes the sheet of paper, glitter particles lifting briefly from the surface as she does so.

"Maybe." Oh damn. My index nail got chipped.

"Can you stop being so taciturn? This is huge!"

I sigh in exhaustion. "How can it be huge? It's just a bucket list inside her journal, along with our favorite childhood story and-"

"Wait. The Odyssey? This book here was your favorite book?" Her amazement is beyond annoying. Of course, now I don't look like the kind of person that is into mythology, but I used to be.

"Yeah, Stev- I mean my dad used to read it to us every night," I explain to her, quickly breaking eye contact at the mention of Steven.

She grabs my shoulder and turns me to face her, our sides reflected in the mirror. "You have to complete this bucket list," she declares.

"What? No." I shake my head, breaking free from her grasp.

"Yes. This is your destiny," she claims, taking a step closer to me.

"There is no such thing. I'm a free human being." I side-step her, approaching the door. My hand curls on the knob, but before opening it I turn once again to her. "And I am not doing anything connected with my family while I'm here. This is Neverland. I will keep everything that happens in Neverland in Neverland. Argentina can screw itself for all I care. That country has my sister buried in its soil." My voice sounds louder than I intended it to be. "Here, this is where I can be free from all my misfortunes."