Page 28 of The Wrong Sister
But I like it. I like to be alone. I’ve been running like a hamster in a wheel for years, burning myself into nothing, trying to barrel through people to prove to everyone I’m worthy of the company. To prove that father was wrong for not trusting me. I was being so loud that I forgot how to hear myself or anyone else.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here, just listening to the sounds of the island. To the whistling of the wind. Crackling of the leaves. Odd, unexpected noises local animals make. Numerous chickens clucking. Why the fuck are they bickering at night? Aren’t they supposed to be sleeping?
The more I listen, the more I understand that the unfamiliar sounds or the lack of the car honks and sirens on busy streets don’t bother me. Throughout the day, I found myself checking my empty pocket for my phone. It’s an old habit,considering I have access to my company with its help, and when I don’t have it, I feel out of control.
I love control. I thrive on it. I love predictability and order. But I don’t remember the last time I let myself just sit and enjoy the present without thinking how to get control over our company back. And by the end of the day, I nearly forgot that I was supposed to have the gadget with me.
I don’t know if anyone will find us. If someone will ever show up. This may be long term. When the storm started, we thought it’d pass, and we’d make it through. But the huge wave came out of nowhere and flipped the tiny boat. The guy could call it a ‘ship’ all he wanted to, but a fact is still a fact—that thing was a small motored boat and wasn’t built for a storm like that. I didn’t even know the area was prone to all this crazy weather.
But the ocean became quiet just as fast as it became violent. When I emerged from the water and finally got enough air to think coherently, there was no boat or anyone else. The fact that I noticed the woman in the water was a miracle itself. Thank fuck for her bright hair and the moon shining right upon it like a theater spotlight. And the next miracle happened when she started breathing again—I don’t even know how long she’d been without oxygen at that point.
Shuddering at the thought that I might have been here alone which suddenly doesn’t sound so appealing, I rise and walk back to my shelter. I built it big enough for the two of us to fit in, but she started making her own, so I didn’t offer for her to join. Big deal.
Glancing her way, I notice that her ass hasn’t moved an inch. She’s probably exhausted. Satisfied that she’s alive—somewhat—I crawl to my shelter and quickly fall asleep.
14
Maeve
The coconuts take over my body a couple of hours later. I wake up with an urge to pee. Like right now.
I peek my head outside of my shelter to check for any bystanders—meaning to see if my neighbor is taking a leisurely stroll under the stars. A useless task, really, since my ‘house’ doesn’t have decent walls. Or a roof. I pretty much sleep outside. Which wouldn’t be bad considering we’re in a warm tropical place, but it’s the beginning of the rainy season, and it’s only a matter of time until I’ll be soaked to the bones.
The darkness is pitch black—I can’t even see my feet. Where the hell is the moon? Oh, right, it’s covered by the clouds, so I see nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I could pee right here, but he might hear me. What’s more embarrassing than that? So I decide to walk a little bit farther, hoping I can find my way back.
The roots of numerous plants are painful on my bare feet, and I jump, trying to avoid the edges poking out of the ground, only to end up landing on something so sharp, that I fall on my knees, crying out in pain.
“Ouch!” I shift my body so I’m sitting on my butt instead of praying to the rainy gods on my knees. Feeling my knees with my fingers, I find one of them busted open. It’s cut and bleeding and already stings. I wipe the dirt off it, feeling warm blood seeping under my fingertips.
“Fuckity fuck,” I mumble, angry at my own clumsiness and the stupid darkness and the damn moon which has checked out on me when I could actually use her help.
When the pain subsides a bit, I crawl on my battered knees to the nearest palm and hold on to it for dear life while I try to pull myself together. When I’m almost up, my foot lands on something sharp, and I go down again.
“C’mon!” I yell into the universe just as the first raindrop falls on my face. Then another. It’s not long before my face is drowning in the tropical downpour. The water is warm, but it’s not so gentle beating on my face.
I give up on the idea of ever getting up and lean my back on the palm. How long can people survive under the heavy rain?
As I stare into the darkness ahead of me, I feel the darkness staring back. Like the shambles my life is in, it mocks me with its inevitable destruction. Because once we get rescued, my family will tear me into pieces. For running away in the first place. And then for running back.
My parents are not bad people per se. They just live in a different reality than the majority of people. I was born into the same reality and thought it was the only one for a long time. When my views didn’t align with theirs, I was forced to find another reality and leave.
Suddenly, something gigantic and steely hits me on theshoulder. “Fuck!” I yell as I jump to the side, grabbing my shoulder. “What was that?”
I try rotating my shoulder but can’t figure out if it’s broken or just bruised because it feels like it’s going to fall off all together.
“What the fuck happened?” King’s voice echoes from the darkness around me.
“My luck happened,” I mumble, not caring if he hears me or not. “If you don’t want to get hit by lightning, I recommend you move as far away from me as possible because this,” I point my index finger at the sky, “is the last thing that’s left for me to make my life totally miserable.”
His sigh is so loud, I can hear it through the heavy rain. A big body places itself next to me, I can feel its presence to my right. It’s demanding and hard to miss.
“What happened?” he repeats his question calmer as if sensing my last nerve dissolving into nothing.
I sniffle. “I think a coconut fell on my shoulder.”
“Damn.” This is the first genuinelyemotionalemotion I’ve heard in his voice. “Are you okay?”
