I stand, staring after what used to be Haryana for a while before turning back to
Inside, my current ‘family’ are all standing in the kitchen.
“Well done. I thought you were going to kill her.” My youngest ‘sister’ tells me, a
smile on her ever happy face.
“Ha! He should have killed her. She deserves it.” My only blood related family
member complains lividly.
“Jalen. Take it easy.” His wife, my sister in law warns him but he ignores her,
stepping directly in front of me. “You saw what she did to our mother and
father yet you allow her to live. How dare you?” He spits at me, I attempt to
take a step back to find the closed back door blocking my way.
“Mother and Father would not have wanted us to kill her. What were you forever getting
grounded for anyways?” I retort back, my anger flaring.
“I was drinking from innocents.” He answers me, “She is not an innocent. She took
our sister and slaughtered our parents.” I see his left arm shoot up too late.
He has his fingers curling around my throat before I can react.
“I will kill you and then her.” He hisses, tightening his hold on my throat. My
breath catches as I struggle to force more air into my lungs. I curl my fists
and prepare to strike him as I grow light headed.
“Jalen, Leave him. You will regret it later,” Omara, his wife warns him, her head appearing behind his
shoulder, her hand appears on his arm, restraining him.
My hand arches up and hits Jalen square in the Jaw. His head shoots back as he immediately lets go off mein order to realign his now broken Jaw.
“You will not touch her.” I say slowly, kicking him in the shin with each syllable.
“I’d like to see you stop me.” He replies, running forward, barrelling me back into
the door. My back roars in agony as it connects with the handle. I fight the
scream of agony begging to escape my throat. “That hurt?” He asks, his face
looking surprisingly innocent.
“Nope.” I gasp, not fooling anyone. The pain in my back begins to numb down, allowing
me to breath without the fear of screaming.
“Jalen leave him alone. Now” Our so called mother, Aretha says sternly, appearing
With a snarl of annoyance, my big brother glares at me before turning and flitting
up the stairs. We all hear his bedroom door slam shut and his feet stomping as
he paces out his anger.
“I better go and try calm him down.” Omara says with a look of apology to me. She
turns and walks up the stairs. We listen to the door slowly opening. Then Omara
goes inside, closing the door behind her. Jalen stops his pacing. We hear the
creak of the bed as the both sit on it.
“Well that went well.” Anita, my ‘sister’ says with another smile before turning and
walking to the front door.
“I’m going out. Will be back in time for dinner.” She calls behind her as the door
I am left in the white, clean, warm kitchen with Aretha. The three century year
old vampire who took my brother and I in two years ago.
“Let me see that.” She says in her usual motherly way. She walks closer to me and
puts her hand under my chin, lifting it up to have a look at the marks my
brother would have left.
“That looks bad. How come its not healed yet?” She asks me. I tenderly touch my
throat, wincing at the shoot of pain which rockets around my neck.
“Not sure. Its fine though, it will go away soon enough.” I tell her. “I’m going
upstairs. I’m fine, really.” I tell her, heading past her and through the
hallway to the stairs which I ascend.
At the top, I turn right, past my brothers’ room and into the one opposite it.
With a large sigh, I walk over to my bed and collapse onto it. My eyes close
and images of my family flash into the dark.
My father, an older version of my brother with the same short, messy black hair;
brown, almost black eyes and the too white skin. There noses even have the
identical broken look to them.
My mother with the green eyes I inherited. The blonde hair. And the slightly
tanned look to her skin. Tall and thin. Like all of us.
My sister. Isabella. Her long, golden blonde hair. Her sweet, kind green eyes. Her
tanned skin, the tall intelligent look to her.
I feel my eyes begin to water as I remember my sisters’ laugh. The last time I
saw her. The glee in her eyes when I told her I would take her to the market
the next day. The day she went missing. Never to be seen again. I start to feel
my brothers’ anger at Haryana for taking our family from us.
The anger is quickly dampened when I remember seeing her swimming in the rock pool near our old house. Only her underwear on her long, slim, curvy body. I feel my
self getting exited and quickly turn my thoughts back to my sister.
for Haryana are gone. Finished. Never to be revisited.