John Watson's bad days

Monday

  There was a knock on the door. For a moment I thought, if I should pretend that I'm not at home, and I had to pretend, but I had no idea what to expect. I got up from the chair, I shuffled to the door and opened it.

"Harriet," I blurted out with surprise when I saw my uninvited guest.

"Hey, bro," She greeted and looked up at me through the veil of her hazel hair. "They know it," she announced and I realized that is something wrong with her. Her hair was disheveled, dirty clothes, her eyes bloodshot and she was a smell of alcohol. They know it. That was a sentence, which explained everything, absolutely everything. I knew for a long time, that my sister is a lesbian, and even that she has a girlfriend named Clara. She did everything to hide it, not for me, I don't care, but our parents are very religious. The sentence: "They know it", means that finally they discovered the truth and drove her from her home. "Can I stay here for a while, at least until than Clara returns from the business trip, or until than the atmosphere calms down at home?" she asked miserably.

"Harriet, you know that I love you. You're my sister and I would do almost anything for you, but I can't. I'm sorry," I shook my head with guilt and she angrily slammed in the door.

"What?! Excuse me! How can you?!" she shouted at me angrily and walked into my apartment before I could stop her.

Of course, she noticed already half the packed backpack. "You're going somewhere?!" She instantly got it.

"Sis, please find calm and listen," I started. On my command, she shuts her mouth into thin narrow lines, but she was scanning me by narrowed eyes. "They sent me to Afghanistan, I am leaving tomorrow..."

"What! Those leaving for the battlefront and you are telling me it only now. You are leaving tomorrow! When, the hell, are going to tell me?!" She stewed in anger. "Do you realize what you're doing. Go to the war front, that isn't like tales of heroism. Do you know, what this will mean for you... and for us? God, they can kill you, and then what, I will be alone..." Harriet hadn't words. "You're ... you did never want to tell me that?"

"No, you would tried to stop me," I confessed. She gasped and then angrily growled, began vulgarly cursing that everyone in the house had to hear her. "Forget it, you can do nothing with it. I'm just going there and that's the end of this conversation."

"You are just going there and that's the end of this conversation! You are just going there and be killed. That's the end of this conversation!" She screamed hysterically, but then she calmed down, which didn't bode well. "Do you expect that I will stop you?! I expect that I'll ask you to stay that I care about in your life?! But you know what, I don't care, fuck it. Do you want to kill yourself, fine! But now when you are leaving, this apartment is free, isn't it?!"

"You can't take it," I shook my head sadly, this was the last straw for my sister.

"Bastard," she hissed angrily shoved me a slap, and then, as quickly as she had appeared, so she disappeared. She didn't let me explain, that the apartment I've already sold, and therefore I can't help. She left me alone, baffled with guilt, guilt that I am responsible for that she began to mentally collapse, that since then she began to drink, and I consider that since then our relationship has never been and wouldn't be like before.