book 1 of the windows of the soul duology
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lucent: softly bright or radiant
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My brother's hand traces the cut on my right cheek for some minutes. I have no idea how a cut can be so interesting, but I won't judge a book by its cover.
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As I stare at an unrecognisable picture of as a baby, I feel a lump form in my throat. Why have I never got to see this picture before? Sure Veli has showed me countless of photos of me alone and sometimes with her as a baby — obviously in none of those were my brothers present — but now, I feel like she stored away a part of me I've never met before.
I don't know what to do just yet, so I opt to study the photo of me as a baby. I soak in all the details of the digital picture. The pink blanket I'm wrapped around, my teddy bear Paul gripped tightly in my tiny hands, the soft pink beanie on top of my head; I soak in everything that sparks my curiosity.
When I feel ready to click on the arrow signalling the next picture, I do just that, although I believe nothing could have prepared me for what envelopes my vision.
A picture of me and my dead mother. On the bottom right corner of the photo, my birthday is still embedded. She is holding me in her frail arms, and smiling broadly at the camera while sitting on a strangely-looking yet comfortable hospital bed.
It's been years since Veli and I had a conversation about our dead parents due to the little information she gave away. As far as I knew before moving in with my older brothers, my parents had died in a horrible car crash a couple of years after I was born and Veli had immediately filed for my guardianship.
Now that I think about it, the story isn't very plausible. Younger me believed her obviously, as I was too naive to be overthinking about her made-up story of my parents' death. Older me now understands the loopholes in this lie.
When I was two years old, Veli couldn't have filed for guardianship as she was still seventeen. Our age gap was fourteen years and three-hundred and forty-six days and it would be impossible for someone who was underage to acquire legal guardianship over a baby. The chances were too dim to be possible.
There had been a slip up from her part during the entire time I stayed with her and I never once did think about this.
Which brings me back to my initial question — the one that's been bugging me ever since I was told I had more siblings than I believed I did. All of them older than me, which makes all of this even more suspicious to not think about it.
An older sibling taking the youngest away and living in a lie for the majority of the young one's life. I need answers but nobody seems to want to give them to me. It's infuriating as well as frustrating.
I shift my attention back to my brother's computer screen. My mother's eyes peer back at me — olive green ones as some of my brother's.
Isn't it also strange how half of my siblings — dead and alive — have my father's bluish eyes and the other half, my mother's green ones?
It's like we were divided since birth. That and the fact that Veli took me with her and left our brothers behind is enough reason to raise some eyebrows. Why would the women in this family feel the need to leave behind this lavish and splendid lifestyle?
