Fractured

Haunted

Someone was shaking her, yelling at her to wake up. It took everything inside of her not to pick up a pillow and shuck it at them. She laid there, her face buried in her pillow, trying to hide her tears. Finally, she heard them sigh and leave the room.

She sat up and walked over to her dresser and picked up the photo of her, Marsha, and Madeline. They all had wide grins on their faces and were covered head to toe in flour. That was the summer they decided that they wanted to make an artificial winter in the backyard and have a snowball fight.

Their father had came out of the house, grabbing handfuls of flour to join in the fun. He had put his finger to his lips and motioned for them to be quiet.

"Shhhh...." He said. "Let's go get your mother." They had each grabbed handfuls of flour, trying hard to conceal their snickers as they crept into the kitchen. Their mother sat with her back facing them, but not completely oblivious to their presence. 

They all reared their hands back, ready to fire when their mother turned around, grabbing the sprayer and pointing it at them. Their father ran and grabbed her by the waist, releasing some of the flour. She laughed, trying to get away from the powder before it got to her. She grabbed his wrist, willing it to go the other way.

She jerked one hand free and wrapped her hand around his waist, her fingers dancing on his side. He tried to grab her hand, but she wouldn't budge. He laughed, willing her to stop. Soon they all found themselves laughing. 

Finally, he found his grip loosening, the flour raining down on both of them. Mabel and her sisters released their balls of flours, hurling them at their parents. They shrieked in delight. Their father reached for the hose, aiming it in their direction, and soaking them all. Finding themselves almost defeated,  they quickly ran outside to gather more ammo.

They hid behind their fort, which was nothing more than an old tent. They couldn't stay silent, their chuckles escaping their mouths. They saw their parents come out, their eyes scanning the yard. They ducked down in hopes that they wouldn't be found.

Mabel peeked around the tent to see where they were, but couldn't find them anywhere.

"Where are they?" Marsha whispered.

"I don't see them." Mabel answered.

They all struggled to stifle their giggles. They became even more erratic with each passing second.

They all tiptoed around their fortress. Still no sign of them anywhere. They all listened, but they only heard the sound of their own breathing.

Flour came at them at full speed. They laughed, picking up any that landed on the ground and propelled it in every direction, hoping that it would find their targets.

Their parents came out from the bushes and gathered them in their arms, knocking them all into the powdery mess.

Mabel smiled at the memory. It was one of her favorite memories. She hugged the photo to her chest. She wished it was still like that. That Marsha wasn't dead, that Madeline didn't act like she hated her.

She understood why though. At Marsha's funeral she just sat there, unmoving, not showing an ounce of emotion. She couldn't bring herself to talk about Marsha after that. She was always afraid if she did, she'd break down and there'd be no way to stop her from drowning in her own tears.

She cried herself to sleep for months at just the mention of Marsha's name. She blamed herself for Marsha's death.

She had been walking home with her friend Abbey. Marsha had been on her way to college, excited to start the next chapter of her life. She had wanted to leave sooner, but Mabel had begged her to stay, afraid that she'd come back a completely different person.

Marsha gave her a hug and waved at them, a wide grin plastered to her face.

"Love you guys!" She yelled. "Call me! Keep in touch!" She pulled out into the curb with her head held high.

As soon as she eased her way onto the pavement though,  a tractor trailer came rushing at her.

Mabel could still hear her screaming. It always played in the back of her mind. She had ran to Marsha's mangled car and tried to free her. Her arm was sprawled out, held together with only a shred of flesh.

She squeezed her eyes shut, picturing Marsha alive, healthy. But when she opened them, she still saw the same sprawled out figure that had once been her sister.

She ran to her side and tried to pry the door open. Arms wrapped around her, tighter and tighter until she found herself gasping for air. Muffled voices were yelling at her to let go, but she couldn't. Marsha was still trapped.

She screamed, telling them to let her go, but the kept pulling her farther away. "No!" She cried.