Skeletons in the Closet

Salvia

 After long hours of plane-riding, we landed in Virginia.

Pops and Giagiá greeted us at baggage claim with open arms and warmest regards. While we drove back to their house, they quizzed us on every activity, every gift. Almost every consecutive second was reported back to them.

We talked all the way into the house and up the stairs, not pausing a second until finally bidding each other a good night. Yet I did not sleep.

Instead, I stared into the darkness of the night and mulled over everything there ever was to mull over. Overall, my break had been peaceful and wonderful, yet something nagged me. Ignore it. My subconscious hissed, but I simply could not. The whisper of something burdened me until the sun rose yet again, even through my dreams.

Aunt Dolores appeared at around ten, whilst we welcomed her, I felt a surge of relief. I may never be able to tell Sasha off, but Dolores lacked restraint and parental chokehold. I would not be pestered so unfairly with her as a witness. This thought alone elevated my happiness. It was just another factor added to a blissful breaktime.

The cold winter caused a thin, but thickening, layer of snow to spread on the ground and by midmorning we were dancing in the flurries and covered with broken snowballs. Trembling to the bone, noses red, grins dawning our faces, we looked as though we were little kids. I suppose that's how we were acting too.

Frostbite sinking into our bones, we retreated back to the warmth of the house and Giagiá's hot chocolate in antique mugs. Pops lit a fire, putting our soaked boots and coats beside it to warm and dry.

The feeling still nagged me, but I reinforced my efforts to banish it from my realm of thought. Today was a day to celebrate, not dwell on something I cannot even place.

As we sat, my phone dinged with a message from someone far away. Hesitantly, I looked at it, to find it was from Kendra, to the entire school.

Kendra: Dear sluts, bastards, tight asses, etc.

Kendra: You're invited to a New Years Eve party at my house bitches. There will b drinks and food. If u fuck up anything, I will fuck up u kindly assholes.

Already many responses and winded conversations and insults were breaking out. Another text Kendra sent to just our conversation of gals announced that if we failed to attend, without viable reason, Kendra would yell our ears clean off. I frowned, and silently told myself to remind myself to find a believable excuse not to attend.

Later at night, the feeling plagued me so fiercely that I simply could not sleep. I crept downstairs and poured myself a dark cup of bitter hot chocolate, the kind Giagiá makes for only dad and I. I lounged on the sofa, sipping my hot chocolate in perfect silence.

"Now, aren't you supposed to be asleep?" Aunt Dolores asked, appearing in the archway of the room.

"In case you haven't taken a note anytime of recent, I'm not five anymore. Ten 'o clock is a perfectly appropriate time to be drinking a mug of bittersweetness," I retorted, Aunt Dolores chuckling as she waltzed over to me.

"Well yes, ten 'o clock is perfectly acceptable. One in the morning, however, might not be so suitable," I whipped my wristwatch to my face and stared in awe and concern at the time displayed on it. I have stayed up late many a time before, but I hadn't realized just how much time I had spent racking my brain tonight. "Darling, I know you're a night owl, but something tells me you weren't up reading like you typically are,"

"I simply am not tired," I responded snappishly, dismissing the ache I knew was telling me to confess my panging assurance that I was holding myself back from something, or rather, something is holding me back.