Page 1 of Driftwood Daffodil

NOVALEE

2 YEARS AGO,

My arm strained to push the door open. It wasn’t weight or a lock that made the task difficult. It was the dread heavily sinking in my heart that made everything arduous. Simple actions were now utterly exhausting. Getting out of bed, brushing my hair, and even opening my eyes felt like a chore.

It was as if an indescribable weight was pressing down on my chest, constricting the world around me. But it was the helplessness that was the worst. My entire life was about to beflipped upside down, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it other than watch the floor fall out from under me.

With a sigh, I stepped across the threshold and was met with a myriad of stares. Some were filled with pity, but most held nothing but hatred and disgust. The courtroom was crowded today.

Well, one side was.

The crime of the year is what the newspapers called this, and no one wanted to miss that. Provided they didn’t have to sit on the defences side that is. Then they might be associated with my family. And God forbid they actually knew my brother’s name.

“That’s the younger one,” an older woman said in a hushed tone as I walked past. “Poor thing probably had no idea who her brother was.”

Oh, I knew exactly who my brother was, and why he committed his so-called atrocity. Kato was kind and loving. Not that any of them would know that. All they cared about was the murderer that the media sensationalized.

Hushed comments and curious stares followed me as I held my head high and marched over to the empty side of the room and sat down. Let them watch if they wanted. I didn’t care what they thought. Each and every one of them could rot in hell.

“I hope you prayed for your brother’s soul, little girl. Justice will be served today.”

I didn’t see who said that, but snorted anyway.

Justice? Really?

Is that what they called this mockery of a trial? There was nothing fair or equal about this bullshit. Just the important, unimportant, and the media circus that surrounded us. No one heard or cared about our side of the story.

Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

Sorrow and loss seemed to follow me around. Yet I still managed to see the value in life. Until the night my sisterwent out and everything changed. One little decision tipped everything upside down.

Now food had no taste, colors weren’t bright, and that hole in the woods we were afraid of as kids now seemed like an awfully inviting place to crawl into. It was as if the universe itself was reflecting my pain.

Or mocking it.

There were no dark clouds hanging in the air, or light drizzle to dampen the mood. What the universe gave in my moment of tragedy was a bright, clear afternoon sky and smiles filled with giddiness.

Here I was trying to stop my family from crumbling apart while all of my friends were filled with cheer. Summer vacation tended to do that. It was the time for freedom, fun, parties, and apparently resentment. I should be with them, swinging off a rope. Not sitting here wishing I could sink down to the bottom of our swimming hole.

But I couldn’t even do that, because I was the only one left to hold it all together. It was a losing battle. Like trying to put a broken glass or vase back together with a piece missing.

Even the Louisiana heat was against me. It was especially thick and heavy. The kind of muggy warmth that seeped through the walls and saturated every surface. The taste in the air along with the sticky feel of the wooden bench on my thighs, was inescapable.

I looked over at an older woman as she fanned herself with a notebook while the man next to her wiped the sweat off his brow.

This room was filled with annoyed, overheated people, and I wished with every fiber of my being that I could be just like them. What I wouldn’t give for air conditioning to be my biggest worry. But the only thing I could feel was my heart dropping as the locked door on the right swung open and a prisoner was brought in.

Kato.

He shuffled forward with his shoulders slumped while I tried not to cry at the shackles around his ankles. My brother wasn’t this broken down shell of a man with scruff on his face and disheveled hair.

What happened to the man who woke me up every morning with a bright smile. The one who was vibrant and full of life. Where was the guy who taught me to face my obstacles head on, without anger or regret, because the only thing that could stand in my way, was me. Had he given up?

Had I?

Tears threatened to trickle down my face while my lungs warmed from the overheated air, but I still forced myself to smile. The Kato I grew up with would want me to look on the bright side. Hope was all we needed to find a light in the shadows. That was something he was constantly saying.

I had hope. I hoped that my sister would survive her attack. When she finally opened her eyes on that hospital bed, I hoped the bright sparkle that used to light up her hazel orbs would come back. Then I hoped that the cops would take pity on us and release our brother so I wouldn’t have to tell her he was arrested.

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