Sometimes Vahn Writes Stuff Options

[Frisk]

She is sleepy, but she stirs. There is a warmth and an aggravation tucked in beside her, and her name is Mia. The girl is pressed painfully into Alice's ribs, and her breathing, deep and rhythmic, is not soothing. Over the night she has stolen the cover and wrapped herself in it, leaving Alice cold on the bed. Looking at her twin, she sees herself and her fists ball up for a moment before relaxing. With one quick motion she clenches her hand around Mia's hair and yanks upward, harder than she should. Mia cries out.

The moment is quiet, and the two sisters watch each other, waiting. Mia springs first, and soon they are rolling on top of each other, scratching and biting at every opening. They do not punch, yet.

Their house is big, and their parents live on the other side of it. They are free to beat the living hell out of each other as much as they want. Their fight ends when they fall off the bed and Alice's head smashes against the side dresser on the way down. She does not cry, or scream, but simply stares at Mia, and they know the fight is over.

"I'm sorry," Mia says first. Alice considers not saying anything back.

"I'm sorry too," she replies. They get dressed and go downstairs, to the kitchen. Alice pours both of them a bowl of cereal, and they sit in the quiet of the morning, eating. Outside the sky is still grey; the sun still hasn't risen.

"Looks like it's going to rain. When the sky is grey like that, it means rain," Mia says, looking from the dark sky outside to her sister.

"Not in the morning. It just means the sun isn't up yet," Alice says without looking at Mia. She breathes in, then breathes out heavily, leaning back to stretch. Little fingers drum a tune on the kitchen counter. Mia watches, then taps her spoon on her bowl in the middle of Alice's beat. Her head rocks gently back and forth, miserably failing to move with the rhythm. Soon her foot is tapping, and then Alice's hips are swaying on the chair, and of course they end up dancing around the kitchen, keeping just short of too loud.

It's almost twenty minutes before they notice the steady rain beating against the window.

[Frisk]

Outside, the rain beat against the roof. The noise leaked into the room, echoed in the empty space. There was no light. In the darkness Johnathon led Marie by hand. There was a mattress in the corner of the room, where wall met wall. To it they went, a small dim splot of white hanging in the dark. Bare feet moved from the hardwood flooring onto the cool of the fabric. They sat together, and Johnny drew a blanket around both of the them.

"The rain is full of ghosts tonight," he said.

"That tap and sigh."

"And listen at my window for reply. I missed you, Marie." His lips brushed her neck.

"What will we talk about? The before, the after, or the now?"

"The everything."

"Everything is an awful lot to talk about in the time we have."

"Tell me, are you happy?" His hands have taken hers.

"Happier than you can know, just to be here with you," Marie's voice changed tone. "Babe, listen to that downpour! It reminds me of that time. Do you remember? You tried to play it so cool."

"Tried? I was the definition of suave. At least as suave as I could be, considering I could see straight through your clothes."

"My perfect gentleman."

"Sarah's getting married soon."

"Yeah. She wanted you to know how grateful she is."

"I knew they'd be perfect together."

"Are you cold, Marie?"

"It's warm enough. The blanket is a bed, your body is my comforter. The rain is my lullaby."

"Don't go to sleep yet."

"I feel like a little girl fighting it." There eyes should have been adjusting to the dark, but they were not. "Is all of this real?"

"Our feelings are, no matter what lies beneath."

"Or above, I suppose." They kissed, and their dreams drifted into the air, just outside the blanket. And the rain slogged on, marching forward, breaking against the roof, the walls. Under the floor was soil, dirt, and water.

One dream was radiant. A light seeped through the blanket, and it framed Marie's face in shadow. Finally, there was a light, and it reflected and framed Marie's face.

She was watching her feet, barefoot and flecked with pieces of wet grass. She was looking for Easter eggs, searching with a relentless, childish tenacity. There was one, cream-colored and polka dotted. She couldn't wait to brag; she was gonna have the most, the best, the prettiest.

But she didn't. She went off the trail, and there was a beautiful spider-lily flower. Red and bloody. She watched it, marveled at the way the petals sprang and dipped, crisscrossing. She was so taken aback that she lost track of time, and the children beat her.



"Marie, don't fall asleep," Johnathon said. "Stay awake a little longer." But Marie's eyes were no longer open.