Gemini

Chapter 24* A Fine Art

Chapter 24* A Fine Art

There is a fine art in some of the things we do. There’s a fine art in morbid matters, a fine art in pain.

The moment Gemini points at me, my vision goes dark, but flickers back to life almost immediately. I am no longer in the cave, but in a new room. One I recognize.

I am in my holiday home, off the coast of Corset Beach in California. It is a nice, plain-looking two-story white wood house, overlooking the horizon and the sunset. The air here is always fresh, and the guy in the drink bar down the sand always gives me and my brother free Appetizers. I love it here- it’s summer home.

I am so surprised to be here again that I momentarily lose my balance. Once I steady myself, I turn away from the window. My feet are bare. The toes sink into the lush carpet, curling around the fibers. I am in my room. Staring out the window, I watch the sun glitter off the waves, and turn around.

I pad out of the room, pausing only to touch the edge of the bedpost wistfully. The covers are deep turquoise with a Mario Kart theme, exactly how I remembered it. But I do not linger. Stepping out, I emerge into a corridor, and then I hear voices.

My mom and my dad. Hushed, quick whispers, like they don’t want to be overhead. Downstairs, the sound of a playboy drifts up, and my blood runs cold.

This isn’t a vision. It’s a memory.

The fear pounds through my veins, cold as ice, hard as steel. I am terrified. “No, no, no,” I murmur, running my hands along the walls, searching for a way out. Tears well in my eyes, because this isn’t just a memory, it’s a nightmare. I can’t, I can’t.

“Let me out of here!” I scream, to nothing in particular. “Let me out of here!”

Nothing happens. As if by some invisible force I find myself drawn to the corner, and I find myself turning it, and there it is, that room. My parents’ voices are louder now, and they aren’t making an effort to keep it down anymore. My dad’s voice bounces off the walls, sounding as angry as I’d ever heard him, and answering is my mom, defiant.

“I will not stand for all of this! You’re not spending enough time with the kids-”

“I am!” my dad roars. “You just don’t see it! I treat them exactly the way I treat you-”

“You mean uncaring and unloving? I made a MISTAKE marrying you, and I regret it! With all my heart!”

“Fine!” he shouts. “Let’s split!”

“No,” I whimper to myself in the dark. “No!” It is coming. The part that haunts my dreams, that dances along the edge of my memories. “Gemini, please.”

Nothing happens, except that the shouting gets louder. The tears flow down my face, stings the cuts on it. My leg shifts forward of its own accord, my hand pushes open the door. And I enter the room, wanting so desperately to shut my eyes- but they stay wide open.

There, in the middle of the room, is my mom. She lies on the floor like a broken toy, or a rag doll, crying out, screaming. And it is because my father is pummeling her over and over again with his fist as tears flow down his face, as tears drip onto my mother’s face. They are both crying as he beats her, as he hits her. She screams, he shouts, but he is not stopping. And I remember clear as day, that this was the one and only time he truly snapped.

“Stop!” I scream. “Daddy, stop!” He cannot hear me, just like the time it really happened. “Gemini! Let me out!” My voice rises a few more octaves, and finally it is a piercing scream. “STOP!”