If You Were Gone

Prologue

     I wasn't going to lose this time. I knew I had every right not to do it. I stood right in front if her, crossing my arms over my chest, standing tall. My eyes met her dark brown eyes. I squinted. I then raised my eyebrows indicating that I was waiting for her to start. She held her position, not moving a muscle.

     "Damn it, Mariah!" yelled, throwing my hands up. "Why are you so damn stubborn?"

      "I'm not going to do it! I cooked dinner and Dad said that whoever cooks dinner doesn't have to do dishes." She retorted.

      Cleaning the kitchen was like this every night. My mom would tell us to go clean the kitchen, my little sister and I would fight like crazy deciding who would be the unlucky one to be stuck doing the dishes. Our fights usually got to a point where our parents would have to get involved.

     You see, we have specific jobs every night when we clean. Dishes one night, then you wipe the counters the next, and then you sweep the floor after that. You just keep repeating the cycle. If you miss one of your jobs, you do it the next day. It's always been a rule and for some reason, Mariah thinks she is special.

      "What? So stirring meat counts as cooking dinner? Please, Mariah. That's nothing! And besides, it was your dish night last night, so you need to make up for it tonight!". I walked around the counter to begin sweeping the floor.

     She walked over to me and grabbed the broom from my hand. "I. Am. Not. Going. To. Do. Them."

    I lunged forward to grab the broom but she yanked it back. "Give me the broom! You need to start on dishes." I yelled as I kept lunging for the broom.

    My little brother, Daniel, was staring at us as we walked around the room in a weird broom tango.

    "MARIAH!" I finally yelled, stomping my foot on the ground.

     That's when we heard it, my father's footsteps walking to the kitchen. We both pulled back and separated. Great, in trouble once again.

     My dad entered the kitchen. He placed his hands on his hips and angrily glared at me and Mariah.  "Again? Why can't you two ever get things done without making a huge scene about it?" My father said raising his voice.

     "Its not me!" Mariah whined.

     "Oh, it's never you, huh?" I retorted, rolling my eyes.

     "Ok, both of you, stop it! Or I will make you both clean the kitchen every night, by yourselves, until you go off to college! Now I suggest you both figure this out." He said, turning on his heel. Before he was completely out the door he turned around and added, "Without fighting."

     Mariah followed our dad out of the kitchen. I heard her say, "But, Dad, I cooked dinner."

     I walked to the doorway and listened in to the conversation. In the kitchen, I heard the water start running and dishes being stacked. I whipped around to find that Daniel was trying to start the dishes.

    "Danny, you don't have to do them." I said, walking over to the sink to turn off the water.

    "I'll just do them." He answered, turning on the water.

    "I appreciate you volunteering to do the dishes, but it's Mariah's turn. She should do them. Ok?" I told him placing my hand on the small of his back, turning off the water with my other hand. I then lead him out of the kitchen.

     As we walked past the living room, my dad called to me. "Kasey!"

     I sighed and made my way to where my dad was. "Yes?" I asked as I stood in front of him.

    "Why can't you do the dishes?" He asked giving me a stern look.

    "Because it's Mariah's turn! She didn't do them last night. She took too long to start on the dishes so mom went ahead and did them. Mariah should still have to do them tonight!" I yelled.

     I watched as my dad thought this through. He touched his chin in a way that showed us that he was making up his mind. "Mariah, you do the dishes." Yes! I thought. "Kasey, you and Daniel need to dry. Happy?"

     I nodded vigorously with a huge grin on my face. Mariah pushed past me and stalked angrily to the kitchen. I followed behind her.

    Then, before entering the kitchen, Mariah whipped around accusing me to slightly bump into her. I caught my balance and took a small step back.

     She glared at me with intense eyes. "Do you always have to get what you want, Kasey?" she asked shaking her head. "God, I really hate you."

     I laughed. "All because of dishes? Wow, are you really that lazy?"

     "Not only the dishes. Everything. Do you enjoy making my life a living hell?" She asked stepping closer. Without letting me answer, she continued. "I'm done, Kasey. I'm done with you." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving me with a shadow of guilt hanging over me.

A/N:

this story is actually dedicated to my little sister. it was supposed to be a christmas present but i chickened out. It's a short story too :/

thanks for reading

Kat :)