• SIDE STORY 4 PART 1 - A CRY IN THE NIGHT

    Everybody dies at some point, but some deaths are too close to each other to contemplate correctly. But it's not like you can really stop it.

    It was freezing outside, near Christmas, flurries drafted down from the sky, my feet were sore and I huddled close to myself to attempt warmth. Everybody around me was dressed in black; mourners. I was among them, grieving the death of my beloved identical twin Aya. The cancer just killed her off last week; December seventeenth, two thousand and seven at eleven twenty-three at night. Her funeral was today, December twenty-first. I stood at the front of the crowd in between mom and dad and listened to everybody around me mourn. I ignored everything the preacher was saying, lost in my own little world. My eyes were only set on Aya, lying in the casket with flowers and flower petals strewn all over and her hands folded neatly together and finicky hair. The dress she wore was one we commonly wore together during the fall and winter times; matching dresses. I was wearing mine as I stood in front of her and shivered.

    Another few minutes drug on and it was time for the visitors to depart. They filed away from the cemetery, only leaving mom, dad, and I. Mom and dad conversed in subtle tears for a few minutes as I approached Aya's coffin and looked down at her. I couldn't cry, I was incapable anymore. I lost my one and only friend that I had ever truly made. I wanted to crawl into the coffin with her and decay with her. I had never realized how incredible of a bond twins had until now. But I couldn't die with Aya; I have to help mom and dad through this. I can't afford to lose one of them and they can't afford to lose their now only child. Aya looked beautiful in her peaceful slumber, but yet there was a hint of disturbance in her complexion.

    "Aya..." I whispered.

    I grasped her face gently with my frozen and stiff hands and leaned down to press my forehead against hers. I breathed deeply to try and contain myself. I wanted to show mom and dad that I could be brave. But I couldn't hold back this awful feeling of losing Aya anymore; I broke down immediately, spilling my tears on Aya's flushed cheeks.

    "Aya!" I cried. "Aya, come on, you're just faking it, aren't you? It's just a big prank again! You remember, we would always prank each other! Come on, get up!" when she refused to move, I cried again. "Come on, Aya! Let's go and make a big meal for mom and dad! Let's go sledding with all of your other friends! Come on!!"

    Dad came up behind me and grasped my shoulder. I slapped his hand off of me, "Go away!" I shouted at him.

    "Arisa, come on, honey," dad ordered me soothingly. "It's time to leave."

    "No!" I cried. "I don't want to leave Aya! I can't say goodbye!"

    Mom and dad both gripped my arms gently and pulled me away from Aya's casket and towards the car. I wanted to fight to release myself from my parents' grasp, but I knew I had to let go sometime. But it's so hard to move on like most people when you sat and watched your sister die on the hospital bed because the retarded doctors couldn't do anything! I remember distinctly; her skin getting colder, her hand growing stiffer, her bones ready to rip out of her skin, her eyes rolling to the back of her head during her last few seconds. Mom, dad and I piled into the car. Mom offered me to sit in the front seat and I responded by locking myself in the back seat and turning away. Dad drove slowly out of the cemetery and I looked out of my window and at Aya's casket one last time. I about yelled at dad to slam on the brakes and turn around when I saw a man standing at Aya's casket. He was very tall and his hair was silver, blended into what looked like a reddish-black at the tips. I hadn't seen him at the visitation or anything, so why is he the last to see Aya?!

    "Arisa, sweetie," mom pat my knee while turning around in the front seat to face me, "you're going to be okay."

    I shook my head and looked outside again, silent tears burning my cheeks. We finally pulled out of the cemetery and drove off. I cried the most after I watched behind me and watched the cemetery disappear behind the hill as we drove off.

    ~*~*~*~*~*~

    The weeks following Aya's funeral were unbearable. We skipped Christmas and any other holiday that came up. I had missed so much school because I was either depressed some days or sick the other days. I noticed my immune system had weakened even more. I'm such a person of routine that with Aya's death, I couldn't stand going through life daily all by myself. Mom and dad couldn't stay home with me every night when they would have to leave late and come home late, but they did get a week off after Aya died...from whatever they did. My daily activities only included either going to the bathroom, eating in my room, or being curled in a ball on my bed, staring at Aya's unoccupied bed.

    Mom and dad tried to drag me to a counselor and after I refused to tell the counselor anything, they tried taking me to therapy. I responded by yelling at mom and dad and throwing things at the walls. I couldn't believe how hard Aya's death had hit me, even mom and dad were surprised. I was starting to worry about mom and dad, though. They didn't seem to cry enough, they just held it all in. And for a few days after I refused therapy, mom and dad started arguing about my well-being, indecisive about what to do for me. Nothing they were trying would work. They were afraid...they were afraid they would lose their last child too.

    School was pretty much Hell...actually, worse than Hell because it's usually just normal Hell on a daily basis. My peers were gluing their eyes to me, looking down on the less popular or charming sister of the most popular and charming girl in our grade. Nobody would speak to me--not that it was much different...and the silence was kind of nice to think to myself--or communicate with me in any way. Aya's friends missed a lot of school too, from what I've heard, and I was sure they'd get over Aya's death much faster than me. I sounded and looked like a martyr everywhere I went. I never spoke, and if I did, it would be in monotone and I would walk around like a ghost and seclude myself. I was way depressed, more depressed than people normally would be if they lost their sister.

    It's been six months now since Aya's passing...and I'm slowly making my way back to recovery.

    "Arisa, are you hungry for jakopi tofu?" Mom asked me from the kitchen while I sat on the couch and watched Aya's and mine favorite sitcom.

    "Yeah, sure," I nodded.

    Mom gave me a smile and went back to cooking. I was almost back to normal, but I had lost some of my spontaneity. I talked a little more and started opening up to mom and dad again. At night, however, I would usually grieve Aya's death until I felt it was necessary to stop. My peers went back to their normal selves, just passing by me without looking or anything. Everybody seemed to be back to normal, but my road was a little longer than theirs.

    "We're going to have to eat quick since we need to get to work early," Dad told mom, walking into the kitchen to help.

    "What is it you guys do anyways?" I asked either one of them. "You've never told me."

    "Secretary," mom smiled again.

    "Accounting," dad rolled his eyes at the boredom of the job.

    I giggled a little and focused on the television once more until mom announced me to dinner. All three of us sat at the breakfast bar and I was place between mom and dad, as it has been for the past six months now. I ate quietly and mom and dad were rushing a little, seeming a tad bit nervous. Maybe they both have a big interview or something.

    After we were finished eating, mom and dad both hugged and kissed me goodbye and rushed out of the house while putting their jackets on. After the front door shut, I stood by myself for nearly five minutes, listening to the silence and the gentle midnight breeze outside. Mom and dad seemed to be back to normal, they weren't fighting as much as they were. I sighed and sat on the couch again, turning on the television and frowning when I noticed the sitcom was done. I turned off the television and went into my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. It was nearly eleven at night; I wasn't very tired, so I guess I could get a start on my homework that's due tomorrow.

    The night was quiet, lonely, dark. The only object lighting up my room was my bedside lamp. It had started to storm outside so I had grabbed a candle just in case I was left alone in the dark. I didn't know how much longer until mom and dad would be home, but I could only wait. It's so much quieter here now when mom and dad leave. I had nobody to talk to anymore, except for myself. I set my homework aside and curled up in my bed after turning off my bedside lamp and went to sleep.

    ~*~*~*~*~*~

    "Arisa?" I heard mom whisper. "Arisa, sweety, we're home."

    I groaned and barely cracked my eyes open to see mom bent over towards me and dad standing next to my end table. Mom smiled lightly and rubbed my shoulder.

    "Go back to sleep, it's one in the morning," she whispered to me again.

    One in the morning? They're home early, way early. Mom kissed my forehead and pulled the blankets up a little higher. I flinched at the large thunder than split the silence. Mom and dad left my room after dad kissed my head. I loved them so much; they were my only support now, the only people I could talk to and who understood me.

    "Love you, mom," I mumbled. Mom and dad repeated what I said and they left...but I didn't know that it would be for good.

    ~*~*~*~*~*~

    Only an hour later, a shriek louder than the thunder outside woke me up out of breath. I shot upright and froze, breathing heavily. Was I just dreaming? I could have sworn somebody was just screaming...in this house. I was about to throw the covers off of me and rush out of my room to ask mom and dad if they heard what I did until another shriek penetrated the night. I covered my ears and flinched. What was going on?! Was there somebody in the house?!

    I took a few minutes before I was able to move again and climbed out of my bed. My clock read nearly three in the morning, so something must have been wrong if it were this late. I inched my way to my bedroom door and froze where I was as soon as a shadow passed underneath my door. The shadow stopped in front of my door and I held my breath; it was just mom or dad, right? There was no bad guy in the house, was there? I was too afraid to speak, though. I couldn't even ask if it was mom or dad outside of my room.

    The shadow left and made no noise while he or she walked. I took another few minutes to regain myself and I cautiously reached for the doorknob. I felt vulnerable, defenseless. I turned the knob to my door and opened the door cautiously. I peeked outside of my door and noticed that nothing in the house seemed to change. Maybe I was just going crazy, but it wouldn't hurt to ask mom and dad if they heard the screaming too. The only thing making any noise was the rain tapping on the roof and windows with much force. I exited my room and walked across the hallway and reached for the doorknob to mom and dad's room. Their door was cracked open, which was unusual for them to do. Their bedroom door is closed as often as mine is. I pushed the door open and had to adjust my eyes to the total darkness that crowded the room.

    "Mom, dad? Did hear screaming too?" I asked them before waking them up.

    There was no response. Work probably wore them out again, so they were probably pretty out of it. I walked up to mom's side of the bed, blinded by the darkness, and reached for the bedside lamp. After I turned it on, it took me a long moment to process what I saw. Red, there was red everywhere. All over mom and dad's bedspread and their clothes and their skin. What was is? What was red?

    "Mom?" I reached a shaky hand towards her.

    As soon as I touched mom, my hand was wet with the red stuff. Was it blood? I held my breath and flipped mom over and screamed after I did. Her throat...her throat looked as though somebody dug into her throat with their nails and drug across, same with dad. I examined them from head to toe, on the verge of passing out. Their torsos had been penetrated and everything, everything was dyed with their blood. Blood was dripping off of mom's hand that hung lifeless from the bed. Their faces were almost unrecognizable from all of the crimson. I screamed again and grabbed on my mom's pajama shirt. I thrashed her around and screamed her name and cried like I never had before.

    "Mom!!!" I shouted at her. I reached over and started thrashing dad around, "Dad, wake up!!"

    This was all a prank, right? They were just faking the screaming and blood, weren't they? It was all much too real, though. The sight of the blood was making me nauseous and as soon as I quit thrashing them for a moment, I looked down and observed my blood-stained arms, hands, and pajamas. Even the tips of my hair started dripping blood. I grabbed onto mom again and shook her some more.

    "Mom, come on!!" I stood up and backed away, barely able to see anything through the tears in my eyes. "Mom, dad, I can't lose you too!!"

    I knew I wasn't dreaming, if I were, I probably would have woken up by now. I looked down at my hands, covered in mom and dad's blood, and shook my head. No, they can't be gone!! I was panicking, hyperventilating. Mom and dad were dead, murdered. It was them I heard screaming. But who would have been so twisted to do this?! Just when I had started getting over Aya's death, I lose both of my parents?!

    "No..." I mumbled. I crouched down and curled up, holding my hands up to my chest. "Nooo!!!"

    If I were smart enough, I'd have called the ambulance right away rather than watched their bodies absorb their blood. If i were smart, I'd have gotten out of their...especially if I would have known there was somebody else in the house.