We Lost It

Chapter 2

A/N - Teensie weensie note here before we begin. I have been on cruises before, and I know that there's Western Caribbean cruises and Eastern Caribbean cruises, and that they sail to different locations. Well I'm here to screw the rules up the butt and do what I want. So yes, I know that the locations they're sailing to might not be how an actual cruise would sail, but meh. I'm a slightly lazy author. Thank you, and enjoy!
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Now when I say I don't start my day going: 'Oh today seems like a good day to stab my sister!', I'm not telling the truth. I'm lying through the skin of my teeth. I mean mostly. It's not the first thing I think of, but it comes up, and today. Oh today was one of those glorious days.

I suppose I should recap last night.

We dropped Marnie off with grandmother, and went to the dinner buffet with mother and father. Father was already sunburned, his cheeks a dusty pink that spread up the bridge of his nose and along is forehead. We all ate our choice of dinner, accompanied by some juices of random kinds. I prefer guava, while my sisters all prefer apple. Mother prefers orange while father prefers vodka.

I digress.

We ate, Zana got a headache and went to bed early. Estara and I stayed out late on deck, each of us drinking our typical tropical drinks, mine with rum, because rum is good, and hers without, because she's a baby. Mother and father went to a dancing club, and did God knows what.

Anyway that was our night, back to the day.

Zana sat closest to the window in the booth, her white plate piled high with fruits and bacon. Typical for her. Estara sat besides her twin with a bowl of oatmeal before her, topped with a plain bagel. She didn't eat much in the mornings, I didn't blame her, neither did I. I had a boiled egg, a piece of water melon, and a few grapes.

Now what caused the urge to impale my sister? She touched my plate. Not maliciously, as a joke, but she knows better. I snatched up Estara's knife and drove it through Zana's hand, sticking it to the exposed wood edge of the table. Zana looked between me and her hand, while Estara took my knife from my napkin.

"I'll be taking this, thank you." Estara mumbled as she cut her bagel in half with the clean knife.

"What the hell?" Zana hissed, snatching her hand, and the knife back towards her.

"Do not touch my plate." I responded.

"I'll touch your plate all over-"

"Girls!" Mother warned from the booth behind me.

"Sorry mother," we both replied in unison.

Mother was a usually calm lady, with kind eyes and the warmest hug, but we knew better than to chap her ass. We had stopped at our first port, which we could see from outside our window. The crystalline waters that shifted between the deep blue and teal. Workers scurried about on the departure docks, security setting up, while the passengers hummed with excitement.

Grandmother stopped besides our table, her face aged with well placed wrinkles of joy. She was still an agile woman, for 76. A pale blue dress flowed around her legs and cinched in at her thin waist. Her silver hair was pulled back in a braid, courtesy of Estara.

"You might want to clean that dear." She motioned to Zana's hand, where she yanked the blade from her own skin.

If you thought my parents accents were thick, boy. You've never met my grandmother.

"Fight me Granny," Zana muttered.

"You'll loose sweetness."

I snorted in response as she handed each of us a handful of money, which my sisters claimed greedily. I had a job, but declining money from my grandmother was like dishonoring the ground she stood upon. I figured I'd just use it to get her something pretty or to feed my sister's fat ass. Zana specifically.