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Imogen Halstead (age 22)
Word count: 3545 (oops)
TW: domestic violence, alcohol, drugs.
Set in season 1/2Jays POV
A blunt knock on my front door distracts me from the game. Pfft. I ignore it, putting it down to junk mail or spam callers. Thud thud thud... "jay? I know you're home..." a female voice calls out, a voice I could recognise from anywhere. I jump to my feet and bolt to the door, ripping it open to see if my ears are deceiving me.
Low and behold... my younger sister is stood in front of me, in the flesh... "wh- what're you doing here?" I shake my head, "where have you been?!" I grow agitated. She's been gone for years, no word from her, not even a message, and here she is on my porch. She says nothing, looking around before she pulls her hood down, finally turning her face to look at me. She sighs at the expression on my face, "I know, I know... okay? Now can I please come in?" She shrugs, looking around as if something might snatch her from my doorstep if she stands out there any longer.
"Fine..." I hold the door open. She steps inside and removes her jacket, hanging it up on my stairs as if she's already been in my house before. She goes to walk into my living room but I jump ahead and hold out my arm to steady her pace, "just hang on..." I shake my head. She folds her arms, nodding for me to carry on, "you vanished for years, didn't think to even call or text... and now you show up at my front door looking like this? What's going on?" I reach out to touch one of the many bruises on her face, but she swats my arm away.
I frown at her defensiveness. She shrugs, "can I at least sit down?" She looks at my couch. I sigh, leading her towards the living room before we both take a seat.
"Where's Richie?" My tone is ever-so-judgemental. I never liked that boy, none of us did... especially Will. She almost cringes at the sound of his name leaving my mouth, "In New York" Imogen quickly answers. I nod, "that's where you were? In New York? With him?" I shrug. She looks at me blankly, "jay, don't use that tone!" She scolds me. I laugh, "you've been gone for years... years, Imogen!" I raise my voice.
"It wasn't an easy decision! You know how hard moms death was. I was alone. You were overseas and Will was out partying in New York. Dad was a mess. I felt lost in our own home, jay. I didn't know what else to do..." she pleads, turning to face me on the couch with desperation all over her face. For the first time in years, I see my sister as a vulnerable teenager again, and it's so painful, "it was a huge mistake... I know" she sighs.
We share a moment of silence for a second, "what about the drinking... and the drugs" I add. She shakes her head, "I'm sober now, and you know the drugs weren't mine, they were Richie's brothers" she shoots me an offended glare. I nod, believably, "was it Richie's idea?" I enquire. She looks at me in confusion, "New York. Was it his idea?" I add. She sighs, "he told me he had our future planned out, I believed him. I was young. Things happen..." she shrugs it off.
"And these?" I reach over to touch her cheek, only for her to move away from me again. She keeps her eyes away from me, "Richie changed" she states simply. I shake my head, "he didn't change, immy... you just didn't see what he was really like when you met him" I warn her. She shrugs, "yeah, well I know that now" she looks at me. I lean forward, "what happened?" I completely calm down, knowing she won't talk if I'm angry. Not all things change. She's always been stubborn.