Return To Me, River (Re-Writing/Editing)

Chapter One

I should have known something was wrong the moment I walked in the door. The too quiet quiet of the house, like one that hadn't been lived in in a long time, the way that the cat was prowling about and constantly sniffing, and the overwhelmingly obvious fact that the door had been unlocked. Yet, for some godforsaken reason, I thought of these things as 'normal'.

Turning the doorknob to my house I falter when I notice that it was already ajar. "River," I shout. "You have to lock the door! Someone might get in." But of course she doesn't reply, too busy reading one of her books, or too stubborn to care. After locking the door my self I chuck my bag into the basket next to the door, and wander into the kitchen to make myself a snack. I try not to feel guilty about not following my diet, as I bite into a piece of Nutella toast, but after the day I've had, I really felt I needed it. I don't even see why I bother to go out anymore, well, at least with the people that I do. My supposed friends have nothing to offer me but criticisms, and seem to include include me so they can mock me. Today I just couldn't take it. I mean, it's not like I did anything about it, I just had to get away from them.

After my toast I go upstairs to my room and head over to my desk desk. Then, instead of doing the homework I need to, I draw. First a person, then a landscape, a tree, a decrepit looking house, and then simply the view of the garden from my window. I sketch and draw for a long time, but I don't really do anything very good. What I really should do is work on my big project.

But after what feels like an hour later I begin to feel like I can't concentrate anymore. It feels like an alarm is going off inside my mind and it's driving me insane. Wait! That's not an alarm, it's the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Honey. I'm just calling to say that I probably won't be back for another hour at least, and that if you or River get hungry then feel free to have dinner with out me." It's my mother.

"Oh. Dinner?" I say glancing at the clock. It's almost six thirty. Wow, that seems late. "Just wait I'll ask River.

River," I call loudly, cupping the mouthpiece with my hand. "Do you want dinner soon?" No answer. "Mum wants to know!" I yell louder. "I don't know... She's not responding. I'll ask her later, but we'll probably just wait for you."

"I heard. Anyway, There's some frozen dinners to heat up, you could have a bit of a scap dinner if you want. Anyway, I'll be home as soon as possible. Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye, Mum."

"River do you want dinner?"Once again there's no reply. "Mum says if you don't answer you won't get dinner at all!" Nothing. "Ugh! Fine then!" I return to my art, but soon find I'm absolutely no good at drawing when I really annoyed.

Rap, rap, rap. I knock on her door. She doesn't tell me to come in, but I do anyway. River isn't in her room. "Huh?" She almost never leaves her room except for meals. I suppose she could be in the kitchen, but when I go to check it too is empty.

Now, for some reason, far more frustrated than before I go on a hunt all around the house to find her. Looking from my room, to mum's, the spare room, the office no one uses, and then the bathroom, and all the way back to her's. She couldn't actually be outside could she? River never leaves her room, let alone the house! But I still check anyways, and to no avail. By now I looked everywhere so I don't have a clue where she is.

Or did I really look everywhere? I never checked the laundry, which is only accessible through the downstairs bathroom, (which no one uses because of this) but it can't hurt to check.

I always loved this bathroom when I was little because it had a laundry chute, which River and I had once dared to go down ourselves. Being only three and six we had actually fitted down it then, but now it seemed far too small for any human to fit down it.

I run my hand over the metal on it and quickly remove it when it comes back wet. Someone must have put down a towel or something before it had dried.

There are also stairs leading to the laundry of course and I open the door to them and after opening it see that the light isn't on. "River?" My voice echoes, accompanied by the sound of dripping water.

"Oh, no." Just the other week the washing machine was leaking, Mum'll be so mad if it's broken. Searching around for the light and then finally finding it I flick it on, only to find that

And I can see her now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, she's half hanging from the chute, her head trailing on the ground, but her body suspended in air from her feet still stuck in the chute. Her eyes are all blank and glassy, now a dull grey instead of a laughing blue. Her hair splayed out behind her is now scarlet from the masses of blood pouring from the slit in her throat, going from one side to the other, a grotesque smile.

Taking I deep breath I make my way forward, and kneeling down I stroke her forehead, then I take hold of her ankles, and as gently as possible, attempt to removed her from the chute. Her skin is awfully cold, and it feels like it's burning my skin, but I don't mind. Her shoes are quite dirty, and leave marks on my fingers, but I don't mind. Her whole weight it put on me once I pull her out, but I don't mind. So I hope that she doesn't either when I take several shaky steps away and vomit violently into the corner or the laundry.

Even though the sight sickens me, even though the thick I want to do more than anything in the world, I can't take my eyes away from my sister.

All the while that I look, my eyes become more and more accustomed to the dark, and I can pick up every awful, every foul detail. The way she lies there, so unnatural, and uncomfortable looking. The way her eyes aren't looking anywhere. And just how small she seems in death. And that's when I realise it.

When I realise what's really just happened.

When I realise what my sister lying here covered in blood means.

When I realise that she's dead.