The Sister.

Thin Ice

 Ryan's POV.

I knocked on Mel's door. She hadn't called last night, so thing must have gone well. The door creaked open. At first I thought it was Theresa, but then I saw the blonde hair and brightly coloured sweater. 

"Mel. H-" She cut me off.

"She's gone." She stepped out onto the porch, closing the door quickly behind her. "Theresa ran away last night. I-I think she knew. I think she knew we migh go to the police."

"Might? Mel they have to know about this. We have to-"

"No!" She cut me off. "She's gone, Ryan. Just drop it. . .please?" 

"If she hurts you again. . ."

"She won't. I promise. Just let them find her." I still didn't like the idea.

Resa.

Dealing with Ryan would be harder than the parents, but nothing I couldn't handle.

There was just one last thing to do. . .

I waited till midnight. I changed out of Mel's pajamas i into black track pants and hoody. I opened my knapsack. Inside, I had makeup, black hair-dye, my jeans and T-shirt from the night of the concert, a second change of clothes, and eighty stolen dollars as well as a picture of my mother at our old house. In the woods, I had my natural resources. Harsh conditions, a pre-strung web of lies, and thin ice. 

I set out through the snow. It took me a good twenty minutes to make it through the woods to the shed. I clicked in the numbers for each of the three padlocks and pulled away the chain. Inside, Melany huddled shivering in the corner, the blood now completely dried in her hair. She looked to weak to scream. I tossed her the dinner roll and peanut butter I'd brought. She couldn't look unhealthy when she died, there had to be food in her stomach for the autopsy. I grabed her hair and started at in with the hair dye. She whimpered and struggled, so I took a large chunk of ice in my fist and rendered her unconcious. I spread mascara and purple eyeshadow over her eyes in the same fashion as I had worn the day I 'disapeared'. I finished her hair using water from the river, covering the black remnants of the dye with snow. I would shovel it away later. I took her by the arms and began to drag her from the shed. I hauled her down the bank, dragging the body several minutes trudge East from the shed, away from the house. I slid her across the ice. I could see where it was thinnest in the middle. I crawled across on my belly, hauling Mel behind me. I crept to the edge, as far as I dared. I could see the river churning, see how thin the barrier between me and the icy waters really was. I slid back a little and sat up. I dragged Mel in front of me, she moaned softly, still unconcious.

I readied myself to throw her over onto the thin ice and to her death. . .

And then I stopped.

She lay on her back. I stared into her face. My face. Innocent and vulnerable, an imperfect reflection.

Or, perhaps, to perfect.