Sebastian

Chapter 2

It's a day I have been mentally preparing for. I knew as soon as the professor said anything about dissection that there would be eyes darting in my direction, and that ugly chorus of snickers again. Perhaps they think my eyes will go crazy, wide and devilish red as soon as I see the dead mouse being handed to me. Maybe I'd pluck it up by the tail and swing it back and forth like a pendulum, watching the blood drip down its whiskers.
One thing you must know about me is that I do not bathe in blood. I do not drink it, sprinkle it over my salad, foam at the mouth over the sight or perform any sort of ritual with freshly slaughtered babies.
Of course, no one wants to join my group- but that's fine by me. I work better alone. I glance around. They're looking at me, waiting for me to react to the sight of blood like I'm a rabid, starving animal. I poke the mouse. Blood seeps out, barely staining the scalpel. My grey eyes flicker up to the rest of the students- almost all of them are focused on me- and I feel like hurling the rodent's body towards all of their faces. Dismissing the thought, I keep a stony expression and focus on my work.

Wrapping my fingers around the door handle, I noticed Anya's petite blue car parked in the driveway. The thought of being greeted by such open arms after a stressful day relieves me, and certainly brings a half-smile to my face. Pulling the door open, however, I was not greeted with an overly excited hug but a high pitched, soft sobbing coming from the kitchen. It wasn't unlikely to hear Anya crying sometimes, but it was still awful to hear a girl of her sort in emotional distress. I threw my bags down in the hallway and rushed to see what the crying was about, not even taking a moment to properly shut the door behind me. Anya was usually a beaming ball of sunshine- her emotional outbursts were usually ones of frustration, or about petty things like arguments amongst friends or losing an earring. But this time, Anya was sat, sprawled across the kitchen floor and cradling a white ball of fluff in her arms, running the hair over with her thumb and smoothing it down into neat rows of fur. She sniffed, noticing me in the doorway as tears streamed down her face. We exchanged a look.
"Seb... Bean died.." she barely managed to choke out the words between sobs.
Oh.
It pained me to see her like this. I knelt down next to her and wrapped an arm around my little sister's shoulders. She would most likely be crying on the phone to mother later again, so realistically calming her down now had no meaning- it was all just going to happen again. But I loved Anya, and seeing her happy for ten minutes or so was worth it.
"Just tell me what happened." Anya knew it was hard for me to show sympathy sometimes, but Bean was a cherished family pet. I know how much she adored the little guy.
"I... I went downstairs, to get some food, and- and I saw him like this, upside down... w-with his ears still, a-and I thought-" she whimpered, wiping her tears away with her sleeve. I handed her a tissue from my pocket. "I th-thought... his ears are normally all fluffy, and- and twitchy..." another wave of sobs wracked her body. I pulled her into a stiff hug, trying my best to comfort her.
"It's alright, Anya. He's in a better place now. If he was still alive, he'd probably be suffering a lot more." I reassured her. I felt her nod into my shoulder.
"... did you want to bury him?"
She nodded again.
"Alright."
I stood up, helping her with me, Bean still curled up in her palm. Her lower lip wobbled as she snivelled,caressing the fur lovingly. She had always wanted a pet, to keep us company, she said. We bought Bean a few years back. Anya had moved in with me because she didn't want me to be alone, and I've never wanted a partner. So... she thought that instead of finding a new family and living with them, she'd come stay with me for a while until someone else decides to. That's why it pains me so much to see her upset- because she's never wanted it for anyone else, yet she's the one who has to absorb all the negativity around her to spare others from tears. She's like a sadness sponge, really. It's unfair.
It was late- maybe around 10pm when we arrived at the river side. It was a beautiful place, perfectly natural yet somehow still looking like the insides of a snow globe through my detached and distant eyes. I guess that's just what I am. Desensitised.
I snapped out of my thoughts. Anya had already dug out a small pit from the earth, apparently with her bare hands. Dirt gathered under her nails and between the creases of her palm. She wiped her eyes again with her sleeve, and gently laid down Bean into his makeshift grave. We covered the pit back up and I found a rock to use as a gravestone.
"We will miss you, little Bean." Anya sighed tearfully, lowering her head. I nodded, patting Anya on the back. It was getting late, and I was worried about being alone on the riverside at such a time. The only light I could see for miles was the one of our headlights, bouncing against the soft rippling of the lake. I had to practically drag Anya back to the car, though I think she had already tired herself out from all the sobbing and didn't resist the idea of some rest too strongly. She fell asleep in the passenger seat.
"What a fucking day..." I murmered. I saw Anya scowl out of the corner of my eye.
"Mmmno cursing..." she grumbled.
I laughed.