Back to Life

TWO

Zuri Keita

There is an instant weight off my shoulders the moment I open the front door to the house that has been my home for the past five years. That brave face and tough façade breaks down as soon as I step into those walls.

And that Professor almost had me break the law and punch him in the face with that attitude. Should such a bitter man be teaching?

One thing's for sure, the man has just as much in handsomeness as he has in resentfulness.

It was fucking exhausting, today... Forcing Stella to get ready for school on time, work and school... Ugh!

"Home sweet home," I mumble, as I take a look at the entrance.

Even after all this time, my eyes haven't gotten used to the blast of light pink that covers the lower half of the walls. I swear, my sister's decoration choices were quite...questionable.

Who paints their house entrance with pink? It's certainly cringeworthy and yet, I can't bring myself to change anything. Not even one single pillow.

On my right-hand side, hanging off the wall, there is a wooden shelf, topped by several vases of plants, while underneath, some hanging poles stand. Two of the several things, Amari was adamant that the house should have.

Living plants for better quality of life and a place for disorganised people to hang their clothes when arriving home, instead of spreading them around the house. Of course, that by those disorganised people, what she really meant was me and Stella.

Trying to break my thoughts from these nostalgic feelings, I lean to my left, where the staircase leads to the first and second floors. There are three bedrooms up there, two bathrooms and access to the attic.

With my hand supporting my weight on the rail, I call my niece, "Stella?"

Silence.

She's probably not upstairs. Taking my shoes off, right at the entrance, I take one step further into the hall. Here, in the middle of it, on the wall that diagonally goes up, following the staircase's direction, happy family pictures swarm my eyes, sending a pang through my chest.

"Stella?" I try again, trying to quell the panic that forces inside my chest upon her lack of response. She should be home by now.

"In here," she finally answers me and I sigh in relief.

That's when I finally allow myself to give my sister's happy and smiling face on the framed photo a glance and low 'hey', greeting her. Amari was the sunshine of our lives, and we didn't realise how much we needed it—her—, until we lost it.

We live in the house she built from the ground. Traits and vestiges of her bright personality still live throughout the house. This hideously happy entrance is just one of them. Often, I am grateful to still have pieces of her around me. But some other times, when the pain hits harder and you want to forget what's causing it, it's difficult to look around.

As if one simple house can swallow you whole.

Trying not to dwell too much on the pain that still overcomes me, over having lost my big sister, I head towards the kitchen, where Stella's voice is coming from.

After the horrid day I had, the last thing I need is to worry about the fifteen-year-old girl who lives off my love and energy. If that person's failed attempt at suicide in the subway this morning wasn't enough, that Literature Professor is probably going to become my biggest nuisance for the next few months.

"A self-righteous, arrogant arseho-"

"Cursing already?" Stella snickers, popping her head from the kitchen and stopping me right at the end of the hall. "What's got your panties in a twist this fast?"