02
Two Weeks Later.
I sat on the windowsill and leaned my back against the frame, with my legs in the air.
I fixed my gaze on the birds I was tired of hearing every day, but soon something else drew my attention: a black SUV pulling into the front yard.
Being alert to who it might be, I reached for the knife I always carried in my blue jeans, ready to throw it.
It had been a gift from my dad for my last birthday. He stated I was good with knives.
I put the knife away and narrowed my eyes at a woman they were dragging along with them when I realized it was my dad and some of his men. Behind her was someone else I couldn’t see from the fourth floor where I was sitting. A shadow lurked beneath the woman’s skirt.
I went downstairs to the living room eventually, locating the woman who was sobbing uncontrollably on the floor.
I often found myself in this situation after school or waking from a nap, heading to the kitchen for water.
My dad never hid what he did. The violence he used, even when it wasn’t necessary, was his best ally in showing everyone who was in control and who had the power.
I narrowed my eyes, realizing that the shadow from before was a blonde girl. One of the armed men noticed her and separated her from her mother, grabbing her by the arm.
“Where’s your boss? Talk, you fucking whore!” my father roared angrily, pointing a gun at her.
My pleasant smile was proof of how much I enjoyed the tears and pain of others, without really knowing why.
I only knew that somehow it calmed my unease.
Sadly, my fun ended quickly. After speaking with the woman, my father shot her in the temple.
Blood and brains spilled from her head, staining the carpet.
By the time I tried to get closer to her dead body, the girl let out a scream that made me wrinkle my nose and remember her presence. Her crying filled the room again, and it did not stop even when my father lifted her up in the air and brought her toward me with a smile.
“Here’s a new gift for you. Just like I promised.”
I looked at him indifferently before exchanging glances with the girl.
What was I supposed to do with her? I had no need for another crybaby like my brother, and she gave no impression of being the type who could handle my games for very long.
Killing her wasn’t an option either. I knew what happened when I broke the gifts my father gave me.
“Come on,” I said to the girl when I saw she was not following me as I started walking toward the stairs, but she still did not move or blink.
After leaving her there, I returned to my room. I had to keep trying to find out where the red-haired girl was. I hadn’t seen her since the last time I went to her house.
The next morning, the girl was still crying throughout the house, but at least now it wasn’t so annoying.
“Okay. Let’s read something, maybe that will shut you up for once,” I said, walking over to the large bookcase that held thousands of books.
I glanced at the different books until I noticed one in particular.
I did not enjoy cartoons, but the cover had caught my attention because of the color of the main character’s hair.
My mind went to the red-haired girl. I was becoming impatient.
That stupid curiosity about her was something I couldn’t stand another day with.
I wanted to forget about her, and I couldn’t do that if she continued to breathe in the same world as me.
“Which one are you going to choose?” I asked the girl without paying too much attention to whatever she was going to say.
Her name was likely Pauline. She curled up on the sofa, pulling her knees up and burying her head in the hole while hugging her legs, resuming her crying from before.
I let out a snort as I sat down on the other end of the sofa and started reading the book.
At first, it seemed completely stupid and nonsensical to me, but I clung to the idea of mermaids’ existence to justify my curiosity about the red-haired girl.
I took my smartphone out of my pocket and started looking for information about mermaids.
What I read was not convincing to me either, but part of me wanted to continue believing that it was true and that maybe she was one.
Otherwise, I couldn’t find an explanation for everything that was happening to me.
My brow furrowed slightly as I continued to listen to the girl’s sobs.
Then I watched her, this time wondering what it was about that red-haired girl or what weapons she was fighting with to defeat me.
I had found her pretty, yes, but she wasn’t the only pretty girl I had seen in my short life.
I knew how to distinguish between beautiful people and ugly people.
Ugly, like the girl who was crying in front of me.
“Stop crying!” I barked angrily at the blonde girl, who cried even harder, probably frightened by me.
My fingers gripped the bird’s body as I held its head with my other hand, then twisted it until I heard it separate from the body with a crunch. My eyes were now fixed on the blood spurting from its neck, wondering if it tasted the same as human blood.
“Hello.” I pursed my lips in a pout when I heard that voice. It was the most irritating person I had ever met. After the red-haired girl.
I was spending more and more hours doing the stupid training my father put us through, and when night fell, I was so tired that I did not even want to go back to her house, much less smell her again.
I regretted not getting rid of her as soon as I had the chance, as my father had taught me to do whenever something was a nuisance. And she definitely was.
“What do you want?” I asked, forgetting about the silly redhead.
“Your father says to come eat,” she whispered.
Her eyes were wider than usual, fixed on the bird’s body lying on the grass next to the other three and the gun I had used moments ago to shoot them down from the sky. My aim was improving, which was good.
“Tell him I’ll be there in five minutes,” I said, smearing my finger with the thick liquid oozing from the bird’s head. Then I brought it to my tongue, the taste of iron being all I could focus on at that moment. Until I heard a gasp behind me.
The girl was still there.
“You don’t have to wait for me. You can go on ahead,” I hissed irritably, wiping my finger on the fabric of my pants. Why did she have to follow me everywhere?
During the meal, no one said anything. The room resounded only with cutlery striking plates and diners swallowing meals. It wasn’t until the end that my father’s voice saying goodbye to us broke the silence.
As my brother and my father’s other trusted men left, I kept turning my food around, holding my cutlery tightly to hide how much it was shaking.
“Don’t play with your food,” muttered the girl next to me, frowning. “My mother says it’s bad to play with your food.” I looked up at her angrily. I almost preferred her crying to talking nonsense like she had been doing these days.
“Your mother is dead. Her body is rotting in the trash while you are here having your stupid dinner, so it doesn’t matter what she said anymore,” I said, dropping my fork on the plate.
Seeing her lips purse and her eyes fill with tears, I clicked my tongue and got up from the chair with the plate in my hands.
Before she burst into tears, I went to the kitchen and put the plate in the sink.
Normally, I wouldn’t have had to do that, but I wanted to get out of the dining room.
The lingering smell of food in the room was starting to disgust me.
“I made your favorite cake. Would you like a slice?” Anna asked behind me. I shook my head.
“Babush,” I called her by the nickname I had given her in a low whisper. She stopped washing something in the sink and dried her hands with a cloth, turning around.
“Tell me, dear.”
“Do you think mermaids exist?” Seeing her smile widen made me regret asking the question.
“Why do you ask?” I pressed my lips together. My cheeks turned red. “Come on, tell me. You have nothing to fear with me,” she encouraged me, stroking my black hair.
I knew I could trust her. She became a mother figure to the three of us, and all these years, she had been my lifeline against my father’s punishments and beatings. I was worried she would judge me and think I was becoming unhinged.
“I… It’s just that. Well. There’s someone who makes me feel strange. And I don’t like it.”
“Things? What things? What do you mean?” Her expression turned serious, which only made my face turn red.
“It makes me sick to my stomach and keeps me awake at night. She won’t leave me alone,” I muttered through clenched teeth. Anna let out a soft giggle, causing me to furrow my brow in confusion.
“And do you find her pretty?”
“Yes. I suppose so,” I said. But that was nothing new. There were other attractive girls
“You like her, don’t you?” she asked with a smile even wider than before.
“What? No. She’s a witch,” I said, shaking my head.
“But you just said you think she’s pretty. And she makes you feel things.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. I don’t like her. I hate her,” I replied before walking quickly to my bedroom.
I slammed the door shut and threw myself onto the bed, feeling nausea rise in my throat as I considered new ways to approach her and get rid of her. It couldn’t be that difficult.
Once at school I tried to avoid her at all costs, not knowing if she had finally attended class or not.
I even skipped my break in the cafeteria so I wouldn’t have to see her.
I would do everything possible to prevent my weird stomach cramps from getting worse, and if I had to go a few hours without eating to do so, then so be it.