The Sinclair Sisters

Mending bridges

Somewhere close to Italy
November 11th, 2020

Essence

In hindsight, doing drugs was obviously not a good idea. Trading my sanity for a few hours of pleasure was quite frankly the dumbest thing I had ever done. How my sisters could still look me in the eye was something else, not that I'm not grateful. It just goes to show what real family would do for you, even when you screw up.

Right now, my only goal was to fix things with the one sister I hurt the most - Savannah. Savannah was our quiet sister, never really saying much unless her opinion was needed. Even when she was upset, Vannah wouldn't really talk much until the more perceptive ones like Shannon or Jodi noticed and made her talk. With that being said, her reaction was completely unexpected and it didn't take a genius to know I had struck a nerve. I knocked on the door of the room she shared with Koby and waited. It was then I realised I couldn't even hear or smell who was behind the door and a brand new wave of guilt washed through me.

I really messed up.

Surprisingly enough, Tammi opened the door and I could easily see the barely concealed sadness in her eyes. Tammi was another sister I felt bad for hurting because it was her I was close to the most and by far the most emotional. Unlike us, Tammi saw the happiness in everything and she wore her heart on her sleeve, never trying to hide her emotions. She smiled, "Hey Ess. Did you need something?"

I let out a breath, "Yeah. I wanted to talk to Vannah." Tammi nodded and Koby stepped out carrying her laptop, "Tammi and I will leave you two to talk. Let's go Tamm."

They left and I walked in shutting the door behind me. Vannah sat on the bed with a neutral expression on her face. I sat in front of her, "Hey Vann. Can we talk?"

She narrowed her eyes at me before nodding and my little wisp of hope suddenly became bigger. If Vannah was willing to talk, that was good, because nobody was better than giving the silent treatment than Vannah.

I let out a breath and my words came out in a rush, "I know I screwed up, really I do and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it and there really is no excuse. I thought being normal was good but now I realise that I really didn't know what I was doing. I've thrown out all the drugs and I promise I'll get better and I won't take another drug again." Once I had finally gotten all that off my chest, I waited for her to say something.

Vannah sighed and eyed her bedsheet, not looking at me, "My parents met during my mom's final year of college." I sucked a breath. I expected many things, even more silence, but I did not expect her to tell me about her birth parents. She continued anyway, "My dad was a mechanic and she was studying sociology in Vancouver Island University. Her car broke down and he was the one who fixed it. It was love at first sight for them, or at least that's what my mom said, and immediately after her graduation, they got married. We lived in Vancouver, and we were one of the few native Canadians in our area. I grew up listening to a lot of languages, including Chinese, which is why I could understand you the day you first came."

I smiled as I remembered when I was first adopted and the effort they all put in to make me feel at home. I never even threw out my first red envelope, although they had given me at least one every new year. Vannah continued, "At first things were okay. My mom got a job as a social worker and my dad kept his at the shop. But being a social worker meant my mom had to travel sometimes to other parts of the country, sometimes to America, but it never caused us any problems. Until on one of her trips to Saskatchewan, my dad had an accident in the shop and he died." I gasped but Vannah chose to ignore me, "I honestly don't remember much of that night. I was at one of our neighbor's house, a nice Indian woman who lived there with her son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren, and she suddenly got a call and she started crying after hanging up. When my mom got back she was devastated and it affected both of us. She started doing drugs and she did a lot. Coke, heroin, it didn't matter what as long as she could grab her hands on it. Soon enough, she lost her job and I was helping out at different houses to make some extra money. School wasn't a problem, education was free for my age in BC, but we needed food and to pay the bills. Our Indian neighbor helped pay the bills and in return, I'd help her around the house. For food, it was a Chinese neighbor I turned to. She had this tea shop that I also helped out with, and I'd use the money to buy food. It was tough, but I was alive and that was all that mattered."

I felt my heart clench for young Vannah. I knew for a fact Vannah was adopted when she was seven, so the idea that she had been working so young was painful. No wonder she was always so quiet. "Until one day I went to school," Vannah rubbed her eyes, "When I got back, I met my mom on the ground, lifeless. It was the first time I had ever heard the word 'overdose' and it stuck with me until the day I found out what it meant. I was quickly put into the foster system because I didn't have any relatives and a week after that, Julius adopted me."

I frowned, "What about your extended family? Grandparents, uncles, aunts?" She shook her head, "My dad didn't have a family and my mom's family didn't want to have anything to do with her when she left home to do her own thing. I don't really know all the details, but I know she wasn't supposed to be in Vancouver. I think she ran away from home or something." I felt boiling rage towards Vannah's mom's family. Family is one bond I respect and hearing about people that didn't respect that bond always irritated me to no end.

Vannah chuckled, "Leave it Ess. I got over it a long time ago, believe me. Anyway, I didn't tell you this so you would get mad. I'm telling you this so you'll understand what drugs did to me. Don't get me wrong, I love you guys to pieces, but if my mom hadn't started taking drugs, I'd be in Vancouver, happy and content, and as you're so desperate to be, normal." I winced. She held my cheek, "I lost one family member to drugs. Please don't make me lose another."

My eyes watered. "Is that why you became a doctor?" I croaked. She nodded and smiled sadly, "I always wanted to help people. I loved listening to my mom's stories whenever she reunited a child with his parents or saved one from them and originally, I was going to study sociology. But the day I read the meaning of overdose, I changed my mind to be a doctor, and help people who thought drugs was the only way to fix their problems. I just didn't think it'd be my own sister one day."

I sniffed, "I was being stupid. It won't happen again." She hugged me, "I know it won't."

And I promised myself it never would.