Self-Seeker

Thirteen Years Prior

Sunday

Genesis sat by her window, staring into nothingness. No more tears could be shed, no more mourning to be done. All that was left was the numb ache of her heart squeezing in her chest, over and over.

Two soft knocks sounded at the door.

"Come in" She mumbled, turning her head to see her sister enter the room - her beautiful dress trailing on the floor behind her. Genesis had always admired her sister's perfection, never jealous, but surely stunned. Even at her worst, she managed to look her best.

Jazmine came over to sit next to her on the window seat, wrapping her arm around Genesis's shoulder in comfort and pulling her into a hug.

"You shouldn't be in here. Dad is angry with me - he's not going to like it." Genesis warned her.

"Well you're my little sister, and sisters stick together, until eternal epilogue." Jazmine reassured. But she sensed Genesis' hesitance, she was the only person that could tell when something was wrong. "Everything is going to be okay, Genesis." She breathed out heavily, resting her head against her little sister's.

"But how can you be sure, Jazzy?" Genesis murmured, sniffing slightly and wiping away any stray tears. She had been crying all weekend. Since the attack, during the kidnapping, throughout the investigation, and finally, at the funeral. All she could do was cry; it made her feel completely and utterly useless. She hated it.

"Because Mum raised us to be strong. We don't let anyone or anything dictate our life. When things go wrong, we get back up and we move on. It's survival, Genesis. Never forget that."

"What about Dad? Isn't he going to be lonely?" Genesis asked. Her voice pure, innocent, free of sin.

"Don't worry about our old man. He'll take good care of us." Jazmine reassured her.

Suddenly the door to Genesis's bedroom swung open, banging harshly against the wall.

"You're damn right I'm going to take care of you." A man's voice snarled. Their Dad stormed in, marching directly towards Genesis. She could see it in his eyes that he wasn't completely there, blinded by rage because his wife had been taken from him - because of her.

Genesis woke up with her heart accelerating at a pace that couldn't possibly be considered healthy. She was sweating profusely with the bed-sheets crushed between her clenched fists. Her panting eventually became less frequent and she took a deep breath, allowing herself to calm down.

Not bothering to consider the fact that she could hardly see, she dragged her sleep-deprived body out of bed and walked to the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet to retrieve her Paroxetine pills. They weren't as strong as Prozac, so she only used them after bad dreams. She unscrewed the lid, placing two of the caplets onto her tongue and washing them down with tap water.

After putting them back in the cabinet, she closed the mirrored doors to be greeted by the distorted view of her reflection. It was an absolute mess. The bags under her eyes were ghostly, her skin pasty from sweat and her hair a tangled heap.

Genesis had gone to bed so late last night that she had forgotten to take the Zaleplon tablets she had been prescribed to take since she was nineteen years of age. It had been a while since she'd had one of those nightmares, or rather a haunted memory. Each detail was so vivid it was as if she were re-living the moment in her mind, and she couldn't escape without her lungs being void of oxygen and her body a human sauna.

For about two hours, she allowed herself to soak in a scorching hot bath until her skin had ultimately turned to prunes. The water burned against her, ridding her of the dirty layer her conscience forced upon her overnight. The thought of what happened next that night was repulsive, it had caused her to hate herself for half a decade. Genesis had yet to find closure with the remnants of her past - it always found a way to catch up with her.