The cracks indeed deepened on the glass mosaic, breaking until it shattered and became no more. The image of scarce childhood memories of what we had left was now left in many pieces.
It was all because of a burned book and a ruined canvas.
'How ironically dumb,' I think to myself as I sort through my grandmother's stuff. I place her pearls around my neck. I fidget with it as she used to do the same, when she read to me. With her comforting words. Her satisfied smile.
"She wasn't just your grandmother, you know?"
"Ok, and?" I clutch the box, ignoring my sister, who's criss crossed on the end table, white tank top flapping over her blue jeans. I have no knowledge on how we're related, and if anyone was to tell me, I'd probably deny it. "Grandmother knew that I had better style than you so," sparing a glare for a second, I make a raspberry sound, then I whip my head right back to the box.
Namine rolls her eyes, "You're so immature. Oh yes," She sarcastically smiles, "Please give me beige button downs and khaki slacks, I would so desperately love that. Oh, and let's not forget about winter time where in Vani's world, it's scarf season and outrages socks."
My fingers wrap around the pearls harshly, and then I throw them at her, "If you wanted the pearls so bad, then fine. you always take everything too far, gosh."
"It wasn't just the pearls," she mumbles, glaring at me. She really brings out the red in me. "Then stop talking if you won't tell me what it is."
Twitching her lips to the side, she takes the pearls. She journeys them over to the box and places them inside it. Without saying anything, she crouches beside me. "Got a guy's number today."
"Well, at least you had fun today. My day was filled with sitting boredly in a desk, scraping the gum in said desk, and cleaning the paint off the floor."
"You had detention?"
"Yup."
"Vani, what for?"
"Some kid burned my book, so I destroyed his painting." Her eyes go wide, but she smiles however, "It was Oliver Twist, wasn't it?"
"Well, aren't you smart?"
She starts going through the stuff in the box, "So who's the culprit?"
"Our very own Roxy."
"No way."
"Yes, way." She gasps while wandering through the things. "And what did he say, after?"
"Words aren't important right now, what is important is the fact that I made him run off like a scared little puppy."
"Vani!" She gasps, and she smiles. She drinks it up like a drink. She practically consumes the liquid that she loves. She's flawed like me. I've still tried to win the argument that she's adopted, however.
I could tell something caught her eyes. When she paused and she was silent. Then, what her fingers pull out is a silver chain that held onto a ring. "Oh, Vani, it's so pretty. Here -" She takes it, and she puts it over my neck. Still looking at her, I grab it without thinking. "You should keep it." She insists.
"But what about you?" I ask. She stands up, letting go of the box. She stretches as if she hasn't stretched in over a year, "We both know you need that more than me."
