Dissension

Chapter One

September 1st, the day my entire life would change. If I could avoid today, I would 100 times over, but that dream was beyond possibility. Mum made pancakes this morning; a rare occurrence. I knew the only reason she'd made them was to occupy her mind with something other than the fact that she was about to lose her children. I could see her hands shaking as she dished them out onto two separate plates, managing to pull her thin lips up into a smile that was as fake as the cheer in her voice when she wished me good morning. Too nervous to speak, I returned the smile and picked up my knife and fork, tucking in to the delightful sweetness of my breakfast; savouring it with the knowledge that this would be the last time I ate at this table and the last time my mum would cook for me. I was only just able to shovel the pancakes down my throat without choking considering the lump that sat there.

"Don't worry, lil' sis, it'll be fine!" Had I not been so absorbed by my thoughts, I would have heard the familiar pounding of feet on the stairs that usually alerted me to the arrival of my brother – who despite the "lil' sis" was barely three minutes older than me. As it was, his loud voice and vicarious ruffling of my auburn hair caused me to jump, and a piece of pancake flopped off my fork like a dead squid. I looked across at him as he slipped into the seat opposite and barely paused to swallow his breakfast, practically inhaling it. I couldn't understand his enthusiasm for the morning, but I had to admire him for it. Instead of replying I waved vaguely at him. I still didn't trust myself enough to speak without crying or saying something dumb, and now I was running out of excuses as I reached the end of my pancakes.

I lent back, reaching to take a sip of the orange juice mum put in front of me and took a moment to watch her. The way she focused thoroughly on each task she performed made it was easy to see the scientist in her, despite the fact that the chores she performed at home were menial and simple. The pale morning light caught her blonde hair, causing it to shine a pale gold as it fell forward when she bent over the sink to scrub the grim off a plate – probably dad's, who had already eaten and left hours before. She was pretty, even in middle age – from the bright azure blue of her eyes that had been copied into both me and my brother, to the warmth of her smile. It made my heart beat with slow sadness to think of what was to come, to think of how hard this must be for her as much as it was for me and my brother. We would not see each other again for two years, possibly longer, or possibly never at all. She turned then and caught my gaze, and I glanced away hurriedly, not wanting her to know I had been staring.

"Are you finished?" She asked softly, and I nodded, pushing my chair back and standing to take the plate to the sink. Cleaning up after ourselves wasn't mandatory but it was a rule of the household, instilled within us since we were old enough to understand. Aiding our families by completing a few household chores was a way of giving back to those who cared for us whilst we were dependent. I wondered who would help her when Zeke and I left. "Thank you," I managed the first two words of the day, and as they didn't sound as shaky as I thought they might, I felt a spark of hope that perhaps I could make it through the day without breaking. Mum took the dirty plate from my hands, "I'll do it," she promised, her hand touching mine in a brief gesture of comfort, before I pulled away and made to sit back down. My eyes flickered toward the clock mounted on the wall above the door. Five minutes. 

"Eat it faster why don't you." I distracted myself by teasing my brother as he finished his food in what must have been a record time. His reply was a wide grin in which I had the pleasure of seeing his masticated pancake, before he put his fork down and lent back in seeming contentment. I felt an uncertain surge of jealousy at his ease. He had always had a confidence that I didn't have in me; an optimism that could overcome even the most dreadful day. I had to admire him for him for it, even as I silently wished I could bottle some of his ego and drink it. Instead, I tried to let his easy-going aura envelope me. Hard to do when I sat feeling sick and afraid of what was to come.