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When she got in, she left the door wide open and disappeared into the house.
Reluctantly, I stepped out of the car and went into the house. When I reached the living room, aunt Mary had just walked out of the kitchen. The bottle was still in her hand.
"You dinner in on the table." she said coldly before heading upstairs. I watched her lumbered up the steps before turning to a corner. Finally, I heard the door shut. The sound punctured my heart and I broke down and began crying.
After emptying my tear ducts for what seemed to be the umpteenth time, I closed the front door. I made a point to lock it since the last thing I wanted was a burglar slipping in to our house. I went to the kitchen next and when I saw what was on the table, my heart cringed. I felt queasy as I looked at my dinner. It was a piece of cake.
My favorite cake, Dark Forest. The piece of cake that aunt Mary had promised to buy for me because she thought I felt left behind. Because she didn't know that I had lied to her. The cake that reminded me of my stupidity and the cruelty Laura suffered and the agony she had to endure for the following weeks.
I dragged the chair dejectedly and took a seat. There's a tiny plastic fork in the box. I picked it up and fork a piece of the confectionery to my mouth. I slowly chewed and rolled the cake around my tongue. The cream didn't taste sweet. I forked another piece. The chocolate tasted bitter. I forked the strawberry. The little fruit was bland. This was the first time a cake had tasted so disgustingly horrid to me. But I kept eating since I didn't really know what else I could be doing.
Aunt Mary did not come out of her room ever since she was back. The house felt really empty, even more empty than before. The subtle warmth that had developed over the years of sweet memories was replaced with a frigid silence. The silence that reminded me of my mistake, singeing my heart with guilt.
When I hit the bed, I cried as I thought for hours how I could reverse the time and do things right. Stop aunt Mary from doing the things she did to Laura. Stop my sister from befriending the wrong kinds of friends. Stop myself from becoming what I had become. A sadist. An unforgivable sadist. Finally, stop my parents from going on that trip that took their life.
I wanted to start over again.
But that's impossible.
Sleep didn't come easily that night. Fortunately, it did come and granted me few hours of blissful reprieve.
The recurring alarm I set on my phone for the weekdays woke me up. I swore this ringtone was never this annoying before. I grabbed the parading device and ended the nuisance it made with a thumb slide on the screen. Then, I dropped the phone onto the ground.
I had school today. Figures. But my body simply didn't have the will to rise from the bed. It wasn't the lack of sleep that gravitated me to the solace of my mattress. It was the debilitating guilt that weighted me down as if a massive piece of concrete was sitting on my chest.
A stray tear rolled down my cheek. Then, another tear followed. And another.
Memories of what I did to Laura came back to haunt me like a wronged poltergeist. It was relentless as it was suffocating. I placed my arm over my eyes as the guilt-induced sorrow ripped through my body in gasping sobs.
Why didn't I notice it earlier? The question plagued my conscience and strangled my morality.
I remembered Laura's bellowing cries. I remembered how those cries excited me more that I would admit. I remembered how the cries made me wanted to rip more out of her. The cries of delight, as I first thought. Nothing sounded better than the shrill voice of my sister punctuated the secret room. Only after a minute did I register the distress reverberating in those cries. By the time I had removed her gag, half suspecting she was joking with me, it was already too late.
"My leg! My leg!" the words came back to me. "Ahhhh...my leg! Cramp! Ahhh..."
I shuddered and curled tighter under the sheet. My heart cringed at the memory of the spasm on Laura's right thigh. I almost thought her leg would simply snap under all those strain. I must have looked like a clueless idiot then, gawking in fear with no bearing of what to do.
When I wanted to untie her leg, I only made the rope tighter by pulling on the wrong end. More precious time was wasted. When I wanted to cut the rope, there wasn't any tool in the room that would do the trick. Another wasted minutes there. Out of option, I ran back up to the kitchen, grabbed a kitchen knife, and went back to Laura. Even that took a few seconds. When I wanted to cut the rope, the pathetically blunt knife barely able to tear out a few meager strands.
"Hurry! Layla!" Laura screamed in pain.
"Fuck!" I threw the knife to the ground and went back up to my room where I kept a pair of scissors in the drawer.
By the time I came back down to the secret room, Laura's face was as pale as moonlight. She was no longer screaming, or thrashing...she was no longer doing anything.
"Laura?" I rushed to her with the scissors. I quickly cut the ropes tying her limbs, starting with the rope around her right ankle. The ropes were more robust than I expected and took me quite a bit of strength to cut them.
"Laura?" I asked again, my voice thick with desperation and fear, hoping against all odds that she was fine.
There was no response. Laura's eyes were half closed, her pupil rolling around as if she couldn't focus her sight. Her lips were quivering and her body trembling. Cold sweat beaded her forehead.
"Laura?" I called to her again.
No response.
And that was when I knew something terrible had happened to Laura. Without a choice, I called aunt Mary. The following event was a blur, a mangled mess of memories. I vaguely remembered it didn't take long for aunt Mary to come back home. She made a few phone calls. She dressed up Laura with loose pajamas she brought down to the basement. Then, she carried her out to her car. I simply followed behind as I didn't know what to do.
Thinking back what happened yesterday eradicated any hope for me to resume my sleep. I simply lied on bed, hoping that aunt Mary would soon come in and tell me to go to school. She always did that when I slept through my alarm. And perhaps using that opportunity to apologize for everything that had happened.
The morning sun rose above the horizon, casting its very first glimmer of light through the window blinds. I turned to the digital clock and it was already nine forty. My heart sank. Aunt Mary didn't not come.
Reluctantly, I crawled out of my bed and went down stairs. I went straight to the kitchen since that's where aunt Mary would be in the morning. But instead of finding her, I found a plate containing a piece of toast and a fried sunny side up. I went to check for her car and it was not at the curb.
I dropped onto the couch and I let out a sigh. Pulling up my knees, I hugged them tightly against my chest. I felt my heart cracked, for my aunt to ignore me to this extend. I had never been in so much trouble that aunt Mary shunted herself from me.
I tipped over and stretched my body out along the couch. I eyed at the walls absentmindedly. There's nothing I could do now, is there? The damage in the family's relationship. It was like a fracture in our family that could never be repaired. Will we ever be the same again?
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