DEATH JUNCTION

8

I bit my lip, drawing the metal tang of blood. I dipped my hands into the sink filled with water. The liquid seeped through the bandages wrapped around the numerous wounds splayed across my arms. I took a sharp breath, trying to quell the build up of pain caressing my arms. I moved to grab another plate and repeat the mundane yet painful task that caused dots to puncture my vision. My eyes strayed to the piles of ceramic plates that were still dirty, waiting to be washed.

Laughter and chatter filtered from the sitting room with the smells of the snacks and many foods I had baked by myself, mama shouting orders and threats behind me through it all. I took another breath as I felt my chest tighten with a longing of that kind of laughter.

Just do the dishes and go to your room.

I blinked back the tears that had forced their way to the forefront of my eyes. I scrubbed another plate with the sponge, the sloshing of water and familiar swish of the sponge against the ceramic spreading across the room. Despite the thick scent of the morning fresh soap that had congealed the air, the jarring tang of blood still coerced the atmosphere into submission. My heart tightened.

Don't think. Just do the dishes and you will be fine.

The thought itself held a biting tone, scraping against my heart with a steel blade. Another round of laughter rang, sending shards of resentment and hatred into me. The pounding of blood in my ears grew as Aunt Lori's laughs overshadowed them.

I just want to leave.

Like every other thing, their laughs gritted against my ears, souring my tongue and toying with my stomach that could barely keep anything in its depths at the moment. A myriad of thoughts sprang up, pulling contrary emotions that spun like a tornado in my chest. I ceased my washing, taking some time to catch my breath and still my fast beating heart.

"You're just like your gold digger of a mother!"

Aunt Lori's voice bounded through my ears, bathing me in a rage that could tear down walls. But I was too scared to release it nonetheless. A memory bubbled up and I was pulled into its grasp.

Aunt Lori walked down the runway like a pro.

Long slender hands hanging at her sides with her tall frame clad in a sparkling dress that seemed to suck out the life of the room, refocusing everyone else's attention on her. It wasn't hard to say that she had stolen the entire show.

Even from where I sat at the back with mummy, I was mesmerized all the same. With the way she walked, her stance exuding a radiat confidence and her face shining underneath the glitter of the lights above, she felt almost unreal.

"How does Aunt Lori look so... perfect?" Mummy's eyes strayed to me and an amused smile captured her face though something of resentment swept past her eyes.

"Well you can't give her all the credit. The hair stylists, make up artists, designers and others still did their own bit of the work." I didn't really give much thought to it as I continued to watch her, wishing silently within me that I could end up like that.

"No amount of makeup enhanced faces though can ever match up to yours." She smiled and it was so contagious that I didn't realize when my lips  copied the motion.

I collapsed against the sink. My thoughts took another deadly turn, soaking up the red hue of blood that aroused blisters down my arms. The urge to scrub my skin ripped down my body. My nose congested with the copper scent, bitter bile caked my throat, the distinct taste allowing nausea to drop down my belly. Tears burnt my eyes.