Drowning

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WORRIED GIRL
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IBUPROFEN was the only cure to the pain I woke up with. My head was throbbing and I was too scared to even look in the mirror at the mark the man left on me. Father had already left for work and Conan was in the recreational room, stuffing his face with cereal. He was so engrossed in his show that he hadn't noticed I had snuck up behind him.

I slammed my palms on his ears, resulting in his bowl of cereal being dropped on the floor and shattered. Milk sprayed everywhere and when Conan rose abruptly, he stepped on the froot-loops laying on the floor. I concluded the only reason why he didn't immediately attack me was because a couch was separating us.

"Why in the actual fu-", he stops abruptly and stares at me. "What happened to your face?" I wanted to laugh at the concern etched into his expression.

"You answer that question, you sad excuse of a brother. Why were there men looking for you last night? Huh? Drugs? If it is drugs, i'm totally telling dad."

He flinches at that, but i'm not finished yet. I don't know if it's because of the pain shooting through my head or the lack of sleep but I begin to cry. And when I cry, I get mad.

"Where even were you last night? They slammed my head against a wall and punched me in the face, Conan! They also said they would be back. Next time, i'm going to tell them where your at. You are such an asshole." I say the last part through gritted teeth, trying hard not to beat him dead right there in the recreational room.

He's standing still, with his arms dangling at his sides. He looks like a complete idiot. I wipe away the few tears that remain on my face and walk over to him.

"I don't know why there would be men looking for me, Harlan." He sighs loudly and runs his hands through his hair. "What did they look like?"

I shrug my shoulders. There was no point in explaining what they looked like because my room had been dark and two of them were wearing hoods.

"Look, i'll figure out who did this to you. But for now, you need to put ice on that bruise. I don't want father hearing anything about this, understood?" He says, kneeling over to start picking each individual piece of glass off the floor.

"I won't tell him, for now. But if those guys come back, I am not joking, I will tell them where your at." I answer, making my way out of the room. He stares at me from the corner of his peripheral, continuing to pick up the broken remanence of his bowl.

"In fact, I will tell them everything about you. You need to get your life together, Conan. I'm getting tired of always suffering the consequences of your actions."

I storm out of the recreational room, heading for the kitchen. I need caffeine after all this stress. It wasn't until I was grinding up coffee beans that I realized Conan hadn't told me where he was last night.

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Father is home early for dinner and i've managed to cover my bruise with concealer and a sweat band. He had our butler pick up school supplies for Conan and I, being as school is starting in two days. We're all ruffling through the mountain of bags, organizing the supplies into piles. Conan has straightened everything i've put down and it's beginning to piss me off. For someone who is a total fuck-up, he seems to care to much about everything around him being perfect.

"You both have an appointment to be fitted tomorrow. Mr Covington will be taking you two. Conan, I expect Harlan's clothing to be loose, as I know we both can only hope she will not gain any male attention this school year." Father states, helping us organize the supplies.

I role my eyes at his comment and how Conan easily agrees. You see, it's not like I have shown any interest in males, it's just my fathers constant need to be protective. It's funny how father doesn't want me gaining attention from teenage boys but then he will dress me in tight dresses at charity events, crowded with older men. I curse whoever created the male.

"Father, do you think perhaps you could raise my spending money?" Conan asks, after a moment of silence. I snort out loud, earning an annoyed look from my brother.

Father doesn't answer and that is his way of saying no. When Conan begins to start speaking again, I knock over a pile of pens onto the floor. I don't want Conan to start a fight with father. I have already been through enough these past two days and a fight is not what I need to hear. My trick worked and Conan immediately went to pick them up, straightening them to perfection on the dining room table.

As our supplies have been tucked away into our school bags, I decide to go to bed early. I am quiet through out dinner and finish quickly. Father leaves the house once again, to 'take care of business matters' and Conan goes to his room to do whatever he does behind closed doors.

As I enter my room, everything from last night comes back to me.
I collapse onto my bed, tearing the sweat band from my forehead. I bite my lip to suppress my cries and shove my face into my pillow. It was funny how when things seem to be doing great, something has to happen to turn everything back to shit again. I can only hope that I don't have any dreams of Benjamin Franklin tonight.

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The next day is uneventful. Our butler takes us to be fitted and from there, clothing shopping. Conan finds me the most loose uniforms he can and I try hard not to loose it right there in the store. We went to the uniform store that collaborates with our school and our butler had left us. Conan's eyes were bloodshot and I just knew that he was high. There was no point in complaining about his clothing choices when he wouldn't even take me seriously.

After clothing shopping, our butler took us home. Conan went straight to his room when we got home and I took a shower. The water felt good since it was cold today and I found it hard to get out. On my way to the kitchen, I pass Conan's room and his door is slightly cracked. When I look inside, he is laying on his bed, his shoes still on. His eyes are closed and he is laying on his stomach.

"Conan?" I question, whispering just in case he is sleeping. When he doesn't answer I hesitate for a moment.

I walk into his room and place my finger under his nose. Air brushes against my finger and I take a sigh of relief. It's always scared me when Conan would get high and pass out for hours after. It was something of routine to check his breathing. I worry that someday, he might just not ever wake up.

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a short chapter, i know. what might you infer of conan and harlan's relationship? notice how harlan's emotions seem to be all over the place? take note of that! the next chapter is going to be fun, i swear.