Inescapable Game of Tag

Still Family

Sophie

Family holidays and festivities weren't really something I was excited about. To be truthful, I hated them, they didn't really hold any purpose to me anymore. The only remote thing I was semi looking forward to was explaining more to Kylie.

Not only that, but it was the ten year mark, the anniversary. Hours away from when Blake murdered Tristan, when I was chloroformed and locked up in an abandoned school.

I deserve an applause for getting out of bed, honestly. The date of November 26, it couldn't have hit a worse day.

Tristan was far down south, in northern California. Lived here from age six to eight, went back over there, and came back for age sixteen to seventeen. Over there was where most of his family lived, and where he intended to study.

Since schedules were so packed with the holiday that fell, and I was already not too keen on seeing any of his family, visiting would be cut off for awhile.

Back in my childhood home, Dad was trying to get the fire pit outside going, Mom was cooking, and I cleaning everything. The radio was on commercial, detailing all the tedious weather, road, and even black friday reports.

The doorbell rang, and I groaned, hunching over the table and letting my hair fall. "Sophie!" Mom called, and I glared at her. "Go get the door."

With a heavy sigh, I got up and stomped over to the door. As expected, as soon as I opened it, cries erupted, my Aunt Edna pushing in, "Let me in! Colder than hell out there."

I spoke frankly, "Hell's hot, not cold."

As the rest of some relatives came inside the house, my Aunt gave me a nasty eye. After a little twitch, her lips wrinkled up into a smile, "Oh, of course you'd know that." A pause for her to get my reaction, and I remained stone faced. "Kidding, kidding! I kid." She came close and pulled me to a cramped up hug.

Once she released me and went to join my Mom, I sneered and wiped at my shoulder. Of course, more relatives were waiting for my greeting, and it wasn't as bad for me not to put on a smile as we said our hellos and exchanged hugs that I pulled away from as soon as they started.

I retired to the cozy couch in the living room, letting my legs lay over them as well. Pulling out my phone and trying to buzz out the noise of everyone talking in the kitchen, I went to answer all of that young guy's texts.

To be honest, I was losing hope of gaining something from Roger. He was much too clingy, which would make it difficult for me to leave once I get something.

He sent about everything. Little time and food reminders, telling me about his day, asking about mine, sending me pictures of himself, asking for some of mine. Yeah, this would be too difficult, I should give up that goal for getting a little something.

I went to looking through my picture gallery. The only ones after the wedding were of some useless little things. A screenshot of a funny looking ad that popped up, the dog downstairs of my apartment, stuff like that.

But, of course, I found myself going back and forth from the pictures I had of the wedding. The shot of Blake and I. The shot of Roger and I. The shot of me, Roger, Juliet, and a Blake standing in the corner.

Juliet had seemed to fall for what I told her, but only a bit. She appeared to believe that, yes, I sent that picture where Blake was barely visible, but was still pretty upset that I let that major detail fly right by me.

George and Lauren finally got ahold of an appointment with Hart, which they would be busy with, so there wasn't really a good chance for me to hint at wanting dinner with them. A family dinner must've not had much meaning to them, either, given that their family was either dead or unheard of. And their adoptive son was locked away, so...