Bound

06

Esmeray

4:00 pm

I take the elevator up to my penthouse that I had bought the year I turned 17. I had already graduated high school a year before that and it had been almost two years since my father had left.

My company had already been on the rise, I worked hard to earn any money I could before that and I had already saved a lot. It was the same year Clemence showed up on the steps of our childhood home.

She had been in tears, her wide eyes innocent and broken, dirt in her hair as if she hadn't showered in a week. When she saw me she had crumbled into sobs, throwing herself into my arms, I held her tightly, crying with her.

It was a memory I will never forget.

The elevator door opens and I walk in, laptop bag in hand. Looking around I see Clemence sitting on the couch as her friend looks out the window, admiring the view, "omg, why have you never invited me here before?" Clemence friend was saying.

I walk over to Clemence and pat her on the head, "hey, Clem."

She looked up and smiled at me, "Hey, Esme. This is Avyanna." she said, gestering to her redhead friend. I glance at Avyanna to see her blushing fiercely. I wave at her just as Clemence says, wiggling her eyebrows at me, "so you're going to the club."

I look down at her, questionably, "yes?"

"good for you Esme, you work so hard." she gives a sad smile, "and ever since what happened- just you deserve to have a night off." Her voice cracked.

I smile softly at her, "it's okay, Clem. You don't have to worry about that, just focus on your studies and being a teenager, okay?" Ruffling her hair causing her to laugh, "okay, but don't come home with a guy. I do not want to hear all," she shivers, "that." With a weird gesture.

Smiling again, jokingly, "I don't know. Its been a while since I-"

"blah blah blah blah," she said, covering her ears, "you are walking away. Walk away."

I laugh and walk towards my bedroom.

As I make it to my bedroom door I hear Avyanna whisper to Clemence, "you didn't tell me you have a modernly rich home and a hot rich sister!"

I shake my head just as Jasmine, who pokes her head out of the closet, bursts into laughter.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Esmeray

Dear Esmeray,

I know you will hate me for a long time for this but I believe it is time for you to live on your own. You are fifteen now which makes you old enough to do many things. I'm doing this because I care for you. Preparation for the real world is something you need. Trust that your sister Clemence is safe in my protection. You are a smart kid. So I leave you with these gifts. The house has been paid off for the next year and a half. It is under your name and any application you would ever need me to sign is in the office file drawer. We will see each other again, Tessoro.

Sincerely, Your Papa, Jhon Genovese.

4 years ago , 16 yrs old( almost 17), Los Angeles, California.

The note that my father left when I was fifteen had been read over and over, crumbled and worn from how many times I had opened it. Loneliness had been a friend this past year and sometimes I would sleep in Clemence's bedroom with loneliness curled around me.

The day after he had left, taking Clemence with him, I'd called Jasmine asking for her to stay at my house and I had told her everything. She was a good friend. My closest one.

The only other person I had been closer to than Jasmine was my little sister, Clemence.

So, the worry and sadness I had felt, when she had shown up at the door of our home, was uncontrollable. Along with the furious anger I felt when she had told me how our father had left her at a random place a week ago, how she had made her way here and suffered, slept under a cardboard box until she could find someone who could help her.

When she had told me I had took the note my father left and threw it in the fire. Watching it burn in the fireplace, with my anger burning brighter. I knew that for the next week I would do anything I could to get rid of anything that belonged to my father but not tonight, not when Clemence needed me.

With tears on my face, I took Clemence's hand and led her to the kitchen and fed her then to the bathroom. I helped give her a bath. As she sat there I washed her hair and she stared at the dripping water from the faucet, knees to her chest, her face unreadable .

It was silent but then Clemence started to speak in an almost whisper, " you know, last year, the night when he left you and took me with him, I was asleep, but when I woke up we were in the car, and I asked him where you were," she looked away from me, towards the wall, "he lied. he told me you were waiting at the place we were going. And I didn't question it. I-"

She lets out a heavy breath, laying her forehead on her forearm that rests on her knees. "I'm-" she cuts off with a sob, her back heaving with the sound, "I'm so sorry, Esme. I should have questioned it. I should have made him turn the car around and pick you up. I should have tried harder. I should ha-" she shakes her head.

"Hey, it's okay." Rubbing her back, comfortingly, "it isn't your fault."

"But if I had just-"

I don't let her finish her sentence, "Clemence." I say with finality, " it isn't your fault. You were only 10. You are only 11. This is not your fault." She doesn't speak as I finish bathing her.

We stayed silent as I helped her get dressed. She didn't speak when I brushed her hair or even when we curled up in my bedroom.

She started to cry and I held her closer, brushing her hair with my hand, "it's okay," I whispered, tears falling from my eyes.

"It will be okay. I will take care of you Clem, always." I squeezed my eyes shut, imagining all the things that happened to her this past week, the way she blamed herself.

She started to cry harder and I held her to my chest tighter as if I were 10 and she was 5 again.

And I don't think either of us slept that night.