A Decade Of Silence

Home is Where The Heart Is

It all started when we were kids. Martin, Jo, and I.

Our parents knew each other, so in time, we knew each other. We were meant to be.

Martin and Jo were fraternal twins, not because of their gender, but because of their  striking differences. Jo had short, glossy blond hair and golden brown eyes. Her sharp jaw and stubby nose only added to her beauty. I envied her. But, if I were to pick who got the good genes, I'd choose Martin. Black hair, blue eyes, and a smile like no other. Martin Esau Jade was spectacular.

"Heather!" said Martin.

October tenth, Martin's thirteenth birthday. And Jo's. I remember it as if it weren't five solid years ago. As if it were only yesterday.

"Heather! Where are you?"

Their backyard was huge. Several lawn chairs and wooden tables painted the area. A bar stood in the middle ,stocked with alcohol. Christmas light hung from a blue gazebo in the outskirts of the yard. An old, withering oak tree stood in the very back. It's branches stretched beyond the bar. The yard was littered with orange and yellow leaves.

Laughing to myself, I hid behind the giant oak tree in the Jade's backyard. He'll never find me. Leaves crunch under feet, Martin is close. I held my breath. If he can't hear me breathing there's no way he'll find me. It's worked before. Well, it worked when we were nine. And if backfires this time , I have a plan B: run in circles in the backyard until he concedes. Martin may be stronger and smarter, but I'm definitely faster.

The crunching stops and I am statue still. I know exactly what he's doing. If he stops, it'll give me an opportunity to run. If I don't get far enough he'll catch me. This can only mean one thing: he's already found me.

This isn't just hide and seek anymore. This is war. And I intend to win.

Martin lunges himself at me. I scream and run behind the oak. He get's up and chases me around the tree. Around and around until my head starts throbbing. When did everything get so spinny?

I make a beeline for the gazebo. I know exactly how far it is from the big oak. Six yards.

One yard. Martin stops to catch his breath. Two yards. I run backwards and give him the finger. Three yards. He pushes his hair from his face and my heart starts pounding rapidly. Four yards. He's using his charm against me. Five yards. I stop one yard away from the gazebo, gawking at Martin. He bites his lower lip and bolts. I come to my senses and dash in the other direction.

Martin is catching up.

When did he become so fast?

My head is spinning. I really shouldn't have run so many times around that tree.

Then it hits me. I've been outsmarted. I collapse knees first onto the grass. I roll onto my back in time to see Martin approach me. He kneels beside me.

I'd never noticed how handsome he was.

"Gotcha." He laughed.

I would slap him if my arms weren't so heavy. "I hate you." I say weakly.

His smile is wide though it doesn't reach his eyes. His eyes belong to Johanna, in a way that they don't belong to me. Whatever Johanna likes he likes and whatever she hates he hates. Maybe that's why he's so fond of me. Maybe he doesn't like me at all.

Martin lies down beside me. I rest on my side and stare at him. A moment later, he stares back.

"Can I ask you a question?" I say.

"You can ask me anything, Heather." He frowns.

I clear my throat. "Do you love me? Or is it just Johanna?"

His eyes search my face. "What do you mean?"

"You do everything Jo tells you to do. Does that include liking me?"

He sits up but doesn't stand. "Heather, I am not my sister's slave. She doesn't control me, and I don't want you thinking of me as some mindless slave."

I nod. "I'm sorry."

"Yes." He says it so quietly I almost don't hear it.

"What?"

"Yes, Heather. I love you."

He smiles, and for the first time his eyes light up.

I fold him in my arms. I bury my head in his neck. He smells like baby wipes, and I laugh.

"What's so funny?"

I pull away just and inch or two. He presses his forehead to mine.

"What's so funny?" This time it's just a mere whisper. Like it's just meant for me. This feels so intimate, like our own little bubble.

He bites his lip, and our eyes meet.

"You smell like home." I say.

And it's true. He has my heart. He is my home.