Two Worlds of Blood and Power

Chapter Four - Curiosity Kills the Cat

Zoella stayed in her room until she had to grab the keys to her Civic from the hook in the kitchen. Then, she was out the backdoor without a single word, but she did have a scrunched-up glare to spare for me as I made iced water and grilled cheese to sober up a bit.
     The house is blessedly empty. It's so rare, the peace and quiet. My dad is thankfully often gone aside from the occasional recovery day from the previous night, and Zoella is usually all over the place with her daily deeds and schoolwork. And most of the time, before she leaves for her fairytale dates, I'm already arriving at work a couple hours early; having rode with Roman so we can talk in the back lot... among other things. Clearly, that's not happening on this day.
     What do I do with all of this freedom? I've never been so comfortable in this house before. My choices are limitless. I could dance around naked if I want, or smoke openly on the front porch while I lay back in one of our cozy-pillowed patio chairs. I could scrub my toilet with my dad's toothbrush, maybe steal something from his office; now that sounds like so much fun.
     But really, if today hadn't happened, then I would want to spend this moment of serenity with Roman. Hell, we could walk around naked, perhaps desecrate one of the many couches downstairs. There's plenty to choose from since we have two living rooms, one on each side of the foyer. They mostly collect dust that Zoella cleans, forever looking like some home décor brochure. I'd love to bring some energy into those un-living rooms with Roman though.
     Maybe I'll just call him, see if he's okay and hint at meeting again as usual to talk this out. We can turn this into water under the bridge, no hard feelings. Shit happens.
     I finished up my sad sandwich, trashed the scraps, and dumped the dishes in the sink. The dishwasher light glows as clean, but I don't feel like emptying all of that just to put mine in.
     Once I got back upstairs, I entered my room and left the door wide open. That's how relaxed I am right now. I picked up the corded phone sitting atop my nightstand. When I hear the dial tone, I input Roman's landline.
     His sister answers, her voice husky and direct. "Hello?"
     "Hey Rose. How's it going?" I force out the small talk, really not giving a damn what she's up to, but I want to be polite.
     "It's Ross now. What do you want, Avery?"
     "Roman." Oof. "I mean, I want to talk to Roman."
     "I don't think that's a good idea."
     That attitude killed my notions of politeness with a swiftness. What's her problem?
     "No offense Ross, but I don't really care what you think. Just put Roman on the phone."
     "I'm not doing that. This has gone too far, Avery. Don't you get that? He came home looking shell-shocked. He was shaking. My brother doesn't deserve this shit. You've had your fun with him, now leave him alone."
     "Hmm, I still don't remember asking for your opinion. And I'm pretty sure your brother can make his own decisions. Just ask him, he'll tell you to give him the phone."
     "I didn't even have to ask. The second the phone rang, he said, 'If it's Avery, tell her I'm in the shower,' so you're really just wasting my time and yours."
     All I could do was gasp before she hung up on me. I stood there dumbstruck for a second, trying to understand what the fuck just happened, and then my anger ignites. I slam my phone down on its base and sling it furiously, watching it break apart on the wall like a firework. Then, I scream, roaring like a lion as I'm suddenly doused in sorrow. I cry, bawling into my hands as I begin to pace and kick at the dirty clothes in my way. This can't be happening.
     We've been through so much. There's been arguments over silly things like him being late to see me, and big arguments like when he got a "girlfriend" for a few days, but we've always made-up. Usually by getting tangled up in each other, then laughing about it all. He's never avoided me. Panic stirs, it feels like there's a rabbit's foot thumping between my ears and around my heart. I can't breathe, I can't...
     I run my fingers through my hair, repeatedly telling myself to inhale through the nose and out the mouth. I keep mentally reassuring myself that this feeling of abandonment won't last, trying to convince myself that he will miss me and call me again. Like I did when my mom left... and she never came back. My addled mind won't relent on the self-deprecation. Tears fall incessantly with each and every loathing declaration.
     I'm a burdensome, unlovable waste of space. I'm a deadbeat just like my mom and a volatile viper like my dad. Zoella looks down upon me with eyes of dismay. Roman is tired of me. No one else cares about me, I'm truly alone in life. I'm hopeless. I'm worthless. I'm avoided.
     My sobs begin to tire out, but I still hiccup a little bit as I keep attempting to calm down. I'll just try calling him again tomorrow, I tell myself. He'll be over it by then, everything will be okay.
     I have one fragile shred of hope left inside me, and I cling onto it, using it to pull myself out of despair and into steely resolve.
     While I wait for tomorrow to greet me, I'll busy myself with my ridiculous ideas. First, I'll savor the solitude. Then, I'll turn my dad's toothbrush into a toilet brush. After a while, I'll break into his office and finally see the mind of a monster.