To Live Another Day

Part Two

"Let me!!!" Her brother yelled, pushing her arm away and claiming the computer mouse. "Move! It's my turn!"

"But you already had your turn before Julian!" She yelled back.

"Leave him be," Julian jumped in, "you have to wait in line like us."

She waited just like her older brother suggested, still keeping her guard up in case they pulled another trick. But she wanted to trust them. Or rather, she did not want to be the one pulling tricks, the one being called a cheater for jumping out of line, against the rules set. At first, it was all about the game they were playing, all about trying it out, because she had never known before what it's like to race among other people online. But after a while she cared less about the game and more about her pride.

Hours went by as her brothers took turns, always arguing that it was theirs and she had to comply with the rules and wait in line. But for some reason, her turn never came.

As you would expect, the little girl got crazily mad and screamed at her unfair brothers. Her rebelling angered them equally, and they pushed her aside until she tripped and hurt her knees.

She was in so much pain, less of it physical. What could be done to compensate her for this injustice?

As if an angel had eavesdropped on her thoughts, the clank of a woman's heels echoed up the stairs and that's how she knew help was sent her way!

She was so happy her mother had arrived home at the right moment, that half of her anger wore out. She ran to the door, vented with all her might while helping with the groceries, and pleaded with her mom to say a few words to her evil brothers.

"You should not bother them then."

And those words were all her mom had to say.

The little girl froze as if they were cold needles pierced in her veins. She forgot about avenging her turn being pushed back, she forgot about her bruised, little kneecaps or the game or the lies or the bullying...

...But how did the situation turn out to be her fault?

_____________________

Crying was hateful. She did not want anyone to see her in that condition, otherwise it would mean that she lost the battle, so she locked herself in her room instead, each time inventing new tricks for her brain to stop the sadness. She thought about butterflies, her DIY projects, her friends that she was going to meet after the holidays, and ceased her crying. Right, the tears. Those stopped, but the sadness never really went away. It was a fragile thing, one you could awaken with a tap, like a word of kindness, and even worse an apology.

That's why locking herself away for a bit was the best option at hand. But the angel that eavesdropped on her, the one that brought her mom earlier when needed, also brought her dad this time.

Knock knock.

"Lou," his voice rang between the walls, "are you alright?"

What a misfortune to hear your name being spoken when you are barely holding your pieces together. And then they shattered for her, more so when knowing that the reason he checked on her is because she did not show up at the stairs when he came home. She did not run down yelling "Dad!" and smiling and hopping on his arms, unafraid that he would always catch her, even when surprised. He must have wondered what happened.

"Yeah," she replied.

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

Don't think about tears.

Don't think about crying.

Don't——

Tears rolled down her face. She did not turn her head, but she sniffed once, trying to save herself from suffocating on the pain that had built up in her throat.

"Are you—?!"

He did not finish his sentence, but he closed the door gently and the rest she could only hear from the living room.

"Why is she crying?!!!" He demanded to know, his tone interrogative, heavy, angry.

"Dear, calm down. The kids just fought each other again."

"Julian! Dray!"

And so, her brothers started the testimony.

"She just got mad, because she could not wait for her turn!"

"When was her turn?" he asked them.

"Well, after us. We were going to play for a little more, and then she'd be next. "

A scary silence followed their statements, until the father thought it fit to interrupt.

"Get off the PC, now. Dray, you too."

"But why, I did nothing——"

"NOW!"

The chair screeched and Dray's steps thudded louder than usual.

"You are not to touch the PC for the next three days." Their father stated.

She could hear their groans and protests even behind the walls, and felt a fist clenching inside her chest. Bad things were coming. It was worse now. She wanted revenge, sure, but not from him. Not dad.

He knocked on her door again, said that the PC was free and that she could play all she wanted.

"C'mon, it's okay."

But now, playing did not seem as cool anymore. She only accepted because of the embarrassment of saying no after such an ordeal in the house. It had to at least go somewhere.

She knew her brothers watched her from behind their doors. She knew at times like this they joined forces in making her feel left out to make themselves feel better. They never hid such things either.

"Snitch," they called her daily. "Go cry to daddy like you always do."

But honestly, when did she? When did she not try to hide her tears? When did she not fight back on her own in the first place?

...

Now it's morning and she wakes up from bad dreams in her tangled sheets. A cone of sunlight spills next to her bed, where the mask from yesterday night is staring back at her.

She realizes she is in Vienna.

And she has to work today.