I woke to the sound of silence. Not silence, but the sound of silence. The sound of a space where there had once been sound, but was now empty. I glanced around the room, I had been sleeping here since Red left. My own room was too lonely, so I slept in Red's, hoping to find comfort in the silk sheets and white furniture. The room screamed Red, from the makeup covered vanity, covering an entire wall, to the glossy magazines, rows of stilettos, and short, tight-fitting clothing. So much of her was still left, she had shed all her old things and slipped away without them. When Red left, she barely took anything with her, only the clothes she had been wearing and a thick stack of Mum's money. She left everything I had ever thought she found important, like her cloak and box of secrets, a leather box kept shut by thick aluminum locks, containing every secret she had ever had, written down neatly on paper.
And me. She left me too.
•*•*•
The night she left was a Friday. I was helping her get ready for her anniversary date with Emm, carefully curling bits of her hair and pinning them away from her face. As I worked on her hair, she had pulled her cloak from her purse. The cloak was made of a deep, blood-red silk, with a grand hood and silver strings to tie under the chin of whoever wore it. When Red wore it she tied the strings tight under her chin and draped the large hood over her head, concealing most of her face in shadows. The cloak pooled at her feet when she stood and ran behind her like a river when she walked. I didn't know where the cloak had come from, only that she loved it very much and went nowhere without it. But that night, she pulled it from her purse and set it in my lap, "I want you to have this, so you know no matter what, I love you, so much." I thought nothing suspicious of her words or her gift, I was too pleased, with her tremendous gift and loving words, she had never done anything like that before. We were close, but not in the way that she suggested that night. I took the cloak from her and she helped tie the silver strings under my chin. There was a weight to the cloak, a pressure, almost like a reassuring hug, I immediately felt comfortable in it. Red smiled at me, then turned her head so I could continue to curl her hair. I should have known she would never give me her cloak just like that.
Two mornings later Red still hadn't come back, so we ventured into her room. There on her bedside table we found her note: DONT WORRY ABOUT ME, I'VE GONE WITH EMM TO EXPERIENCE THE WORLD, I WONT BE BACK.
And that was it, that was all she said, three weeks later I had hardly taken the cloak off and I was still waiting for her to come home. I knew she wouldn't leave me alone like that, by myself with Mums and Pups, who like fighting more than Red and me, and with Grandmum still sick and Grandpup giving us the silent treatment from 500 miles away. It was just her and me ( and recently Emm) against the world, and I knew she wouldn't abandon me.
•*•*•
"Capri!"
Mum had been calling my name every few minutes for the past hour and a half. Today was Saturday, meaning I had to walk a mile and a half to Grandmum's house to bring her fruit, bread, and herbs, to help her get better. Red and I used to go together, today marked the third time I would be going solo. I couldn't remember a time when Grandmum wasn't sick and Grandpup wasn't too far away to help her. Which meant I couldn't remember a time when I didn't bring her food with Red, some weeks, it had been the only time we spoke, it was something we bonded over. But now things were different. I walked alone while Red and Emm walked together in some foreign place, experiencing the world. I have never been so alone.
After lacing up the leather boots I threw Red's coat over my shoulders, enjoying the familiar weight of the silky red material. I let the hood settle over my dark curls as I knotted the string under my chin. Staring in the mirror I hardly recognized myself, wearing Red's cloak and boots I looked so much like her. In a way, it was difficult to remind myself I was just Capri, especially when I wished so hard I was anything but. I didn't wish I was Red, only to no longer be Capri, anyone who really knew Red wouldn't want to be her. Behind her porcelain forehead was a twisted brain, one that loved danger and defied everything while never letting go of any bit of sadness. Her brain was dangerous, I had seen it's effects etched into her skin every time she changed in front if me or wore a bathing suit. Thin scars tracing each bone, flaring over her ribcage and down a straight line to her hips, where they split, cutting her across and down, separating all her joints and every curve. Sometimes I felt she looked like a puzzle, the places where her pieces connected clearly visible. She had made those scars herself, when she was twelve. It was her twisted brain that made her drag the dismantled pieces of a pencil sharpener across her body. It was her own brain that drowned her in it's manufactured sorrow and left her with scars to remember it by. No, I did not wish I was Red, but sometimes even she seemed better than me, Capri.
