----------Four Years Later----------


        I shot myself out of bed, sitting up alert and scared. Just a dream I said mentally to myself. Wiping my hands across my sweaty brow, then running my fingers under my eyes to erase the tear stains from my cheeks. My wrist caught in my vision, the skin tingly faintly.

 I rolled my eyes, "Of course, always the left wrist." I muttered into the darkness.


Throwing my comforter of me I tossed my legs out of the bed, noticing the slight brightness from the morning light coming through my window. Peering over at my clock to check the time 4:30 A.M, I sighed. Only an hour longer than the previous night's sleep. Running my hand through my knotted hair in front of the bathroom mirror I looked at the zombie staring back at me. I splashed ice cold water on to my face, analyzing every detail.


 My long medium brown colored hair scattered in all different directions from the pony tail I had put it in before bed. My bangs that I usually have parted to the right so they fall to cover the one side of my forehead were hanging in front of my eyes, making it very difficult for me to see past them. I groaned. My eyes have bruises under them from my recent lack of sleep; the bruises make my sapphire blue eyes brighter, the pale gold ring around my pupil look more feral, and stand out more from my pale face then usual. The Silver Star stud on the left side of my nose glittered against the lights of the mirror. Sighing at my reflection, I took another glance over my face, the face that is all made up all my father's features and none of my mother's. Thinking about my mother and sister, thinking about what they would think of me now at sixteen, nearly seventeen. No longer the twelve year old daughter and bratty little sister they before they died in the crash.


The bathroom door flew open. A large figure jumped into the room swing a baseball bat above their head. Staggering backwards startled I fell back into the bath tub. Screaming I brought the shower curtain down with me. The figure came more in to the light, he was really tall, muscular, with sandy blond hair. I knew who it was.


 "Damn it Brandon!" I exclaimed, struggling to get unwrapped from the curtain. "What are you doing? Do you know what time it is?" I demanded still tangled in the shower curtain. I looked over at him, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open. Brandon composed his face and helped me get untangled.


 "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." he apologized.


 "Yeah its okay, it’s fine, I'll just restart my heart in a few minutes."


 He laughed, giving me a hand out of the tub. Brandon is my older brother; he is two years older then me. So he graduates in this year from high school on June 18th (Sienna's birthday). Along with the rest of my family he looks nothing like me, he is thickly built, blond hair and sparkling brown eyes. And I'm the odd one out, dark haired, blue eyes, yet still rather tall at 5'9. Ever since our sister and mother died in the car accident (I was 12, Sienna was 13 and he was 14) Brandon has been taking care of me, as a big brother and sometimes a father. He is the only person who knows about my “unusual visitor”, and my crazy dreams. He is the only person in my actual family who I confide in about anything. I say actual family because I think of my friends as my better, funnier family. We started walking down the stairs, through the living room. Brandon, put one of his massive arms around my shoulders, pulled me to him, and steered me towards the kitchen.


 "Still can't sleep properly?" he asks suddenly looking down at me.


 I shake my head no, turning away from him.


 "Maybe you should go back to see that doctor. You know, to see why the nightmares came back now. After being gone as long as they have." he says concern dripping in his voice.


 I shake my head again and bite my lip, "No, that doctor just gives me pills. Remember what those did to me?" glancing up at him.


 Brandon shudders next to me.


 He remembers. After my mom died I had these terrible nightmares that would have me waking up screaming and trashing around. This shrink I had to go see about them gave me these pills. The nightmares stopped, but I began having hallucinations. I thought I saw my mom and sister everywhere we had ever gone as a family. Asking me why I didn't save them. For months I would scream out at nothing saying that I couldn't, my dad and Brandon didn't know what to do. It really scared them. They took me off the pills and everything stopped, hallucinations, dreams everything till last month.


 "Okay no doctors. But this whole waking up screaming from nightmares isn't healthy for you. Dad had this really good idea, I think it is too.” he hesitated briefly. “Though you have to be comfortable with it too." he said.


 I pulled out a wooden bar stool from the island and sat down on it, as Brandon walked across the island to the fridge. The light of the fridge hurt my eyes when he opened it. Brandon pulled out the carton on orange juice and took a quick swig from it. Instead of putting it back in the fridge he held it in his hands, tapping his fingers against it staring at it.


 "Are you going to tell me this brilliant idea or just stand there examining the juice carton?" I laughed.


 "Well promise not to get mad?"


 "Depends," I smirked.


 "Nope, promise me or I won't spill." Brandon pretended to lock his lips.


 I rolled my eyes. "Fine I promise not to get Mad." placing a hand over my heart.


Brandon placed his hands firmly on the counter top, his back to me.


Uh oh, this must be bad I thought.


 "Dad wants to send you to spend go live with Aunt Julie and Uncle Paul, until you graduate."


My mouth dropped wide open, my eyes wide in disbelief. My father wanted me to go spend a year with my mother’s brother? With his wife and their daughter?! I must have heard him wrong that's it.


 "Wait, what did you say?" I asked a hopeful smile on my face.


 Brandon turned around to face me; walking around the island towards me he repeated his words slowly.


 "Dad is sending you to go stay with Auntie Julie and Uncle Paul. You know the aunt and uncle that live back up north in Fort St John." he grimaced.


 I took a deep breath feeling rage building up. I swear that Brandon could probably see the red color rising in my face. The breathing failed and I burst, slamming my fists on counter top.” Why would he make me go back there! We moved here, to Powell River to get us out of there. Away from the bad memories, Away from the same town that mom died in. I'm not going. I refuse. He can't make me. I have bloody two years left of school after this summer and I am not leaving all my friends!” I gasped, extremely out of breath


 "Okay, okay! Calm down! I told dad you wouldn't want to go. I just thought I'd throw it out there." he sighs.

I just stare up at my older brother, the scared look on his face, how tightly he is holding the edge of the sink behind him.


 “I'm...sorry...Brandon...” I said in between gasps, “I...didn'”


 Brandon let go of the counter and moved back over to my side. “Its okay, I know you didn't. Plus,” he whispered, “Your emotions have kind of been all over the place lately, especially your temper.” 


Finally I got my breath back. “Gee, thanks. You're a wonderful brother,” I said rolling my eyes.


 He grinned, “Yep, you know it! And to prove it even further, I am taking you back to bed.”


 I groaned. “I have to be up in two hours anyways.”


 “So you're going to try to sleep these last two hours.” he said pushing me back up stairs to my room.


Amazingly I was able to sleep again, Feeling oddly comfortable.



The End

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