Double Vision

37

037. bella . (deceased)

apr. 4, 2014.

2:30 p.m.

"I'm so sick of looking at you!!" my dad screamed, bashing one of his glasses of vodka on my head. I cried out, looking up at him from my knees on the ground, my hands flying to my head.

I looked up at him with tears in my eyes, my glasses shattered. I can't tell which my vision is blurring from. 

He scoffed, grabbing me by my hair and kneeling down. "Look at you. So pathetic. Why do you have to look so much like your goddamn mother?!"

"I'm—" I breathed heavily, feeling sick to my stomach. "I'm sorry,"

"Of course you are!" he yelled, punching me in the gut, knocking the air out of me. I wheezed, coughing as he continued screaming. "Such a baby! At least your sister knows how to suck it the fuck up!" 

The front door swung open. The cup of coffee Vira was holding fell to the ground, splattering all over the floor. Our fathers expression darkened. She cleared her throat. "Sorry. I'll clean it up."

She silently walked into the kitchen. I've never seen Vira mad before. I didn't think she was even capable of it. She's always smiling. But the expression she has on her face right now is terrifying.

"I should throw you out." my dad murmured, inches away from my face, his sour breath filling my nose. I fought back the urge to hold my breath. "The wasps are your bestfriends, aren't they?" he grinned sadistically.

He brought his hand down to my arm, scratching harshly against all the bumps I have from getting stung my wasps. I bit my lip to avoid crying out in pain, tears forming in my eyes yet again. Weak.

"What a baby. You should've died instead of your mother, you know. Seriously, why were you even born? You're such a waste of—"

He was cut off by a disgusting wheeze, a sound I didn't even know humans could make, and gurgling in his throat. 

"You bitch!!" Vira yelled, thrusting the kitchen knife out of his gut as he collapsed to the ground. She kicked him over, straddling him, stabbing him over and over again. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I fucking hate you!!"

I watched, frozen in shock as she repeatedly stabbed him, blood splattering all over her face. I swallowed, suddenly nauseous, but unable to look away. "He's dead," I mumbled in a shaky voice.

She stabbed his throat, then jumped off of him, grabbing my arm. "Hurry up! Let's go!"

"What?! But—" before I could protest, she opened the front door, dragging me out with her, sprinting down the street. I panted, struggling to keep up with her.

As we ran through the streets, my mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. Fear, shock, confusion—everything was swirling together, making it hard to focus on anything but the pounding of my heart and the sound of our footsteps echoing off the pavement.

Vira didn't slow down, her grip on my arm tight as she pulled me along. I stumbled a few times, my legs feeling like lead, but I couldn't stop. Not with the image of our father lying motionless on the floor, blood pooling around him, etched into my mind.

I stole a glance at Vira as we ran. Her face was streaked with blood, her eyes wide and wild. It was like looking at a completely different person from the cheerful sister I thought I knew.

"Where are we going?!" I managed to gasp out between breaths.

She didn't answer immediately, her gaze fixed ahead as she navigated the streets with purpose. Finally, she spoke, her voice tense and urgent. "We're going to find a train. Nevada is the closest state."

The weight of her words sank in, and a cold shiver ran down my spine. She had just killed our own father. The thought was surreal, almost too much to comprehend. But there was no turning back now.

We ran until our legs burned and our lungs screamed for air, until the distant lights of the city blurred into a hazy glow behind us. And even then, we didn't stop. We couldn't afford to. Not when our lives depended on it.

I stood behind her, a gloomy look on my face as I watched her rinse her face in the sink of the public bathroom. "I don't want to leave Arizona." I mumbled stupidly.

"And what choice do we have?" she sighed, wiping her face with a paper towel. Her face was still dirty. "I'll buy you new glasses when we get there."

I frowned, staring at the ground. "They're expensive."

"They're worth it," Vira replied firmly, turning to face me. Despite the bloodstains and the weariness in her eyes, there was a determination there that I had never seen before. "We'll figure it out. We always do."

I nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. She was right. We had always found a way to survive, no matter how bleak things seemed. But this... this was different. We were on the run now, fugitives from the law, with nowhere to call home.

As we stepped out of the bathroom and back onto the crowded streets, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of my stomach. But I clung to Vira's hand tightly, drawing strength from her presence, knowing that as long as we had each other, we could face whatever lay ahead.

"I think being a detective would work out for us pretty well. You're smart." she mumbled in my ear.

"You're smarter." I looked away.

"Then that'll work out pretty nicely for us, huh?" she smiled.