1. Blue Flowers #2
I close my eyes and pull the sheets over me so I won’t be cold.
I’m tired, but I can’t fall asleep because tiny, sharp teeth are gnawing at me, freezing my skin.
The sheets are strangely heavy, as though someone were sitting on them, and I try to move them, but I can’t.
My body won’t respond. All I can do is open my eyes and blink.
I’m a prisoner in my immobile body. I feel the weight of the sheets shift onto my chest. It’s hard to breathe.
I close my eyes, try to move a finger, a leg, but my body won’t react.
I don’t want to open my eyes because something is touching my face.
The touch is not soft, it’s like ice burning my skin.
I try to scream, but I can’t. I hear Brother’s axe.
He can’t possibly be chopping wood this late.
My body trembles with every blow, though I’m unable to move.
I can’t stop the tears that fall from my eyes and wet my cheeks, my neck.
Something whispers in my left ear. It’s not a human sound, but it says my name.
I open my eyes, and now I can move. I scream, light the oil lamp, throw the sheets onto the floor, feeling disgusted and desperate.
I sense the axe striking harder, faster.
I jump out of bed and flee my room, leave the house, run through the dry grass.
I run without stopping until at last I turn around.
From a distance, I see the darkened house, no shadows, no axe. I fall asleep on the ground.
I wake with the morning dew. The day has dawned cloudy.
I clean myself with water from the metal drums, shake the dirt and dry grass from my hair, and try to neaten it.
When I look at my image, I see bags under my eyes.
It’s hard to open them, so I rub them, yawn.
I don’t want to remember what happened last night.
I think I imagined it, that it was a hallucination, that I’m exhausted. But my body knows it was real.
I go back to the house, walk quickly to my room, take off my dirt-stained nightgown, and put on a clean dress and apron.
I wait for my sister at the door to the shed, wanting to say hello before I get started on my chores, but she’s not there.
I don’t see the wheelbarrow at the entrance to the house either.
Mother and Father use it to go into town.
Yesterday I saw Mother with a small bouquet of blue flowers, but when she saw me, she hid it in the pocket of her apron.
I look at my reflection in the stagnant water and there’s no expression on my face.
I slap the water with my left hand and my image vanishes.
I hear footsteps, and it’s Brother coming with the axe.
He walks slowly, staring at me, not blinking.
The stones in his eyes are cold. He says nothing, raises the axe, and breaks the lock with one blow.
I open my eyes and mouth, but no sound comes out, my only thought is that Father will be angry.
Brother grabs my arm forcefully and shoves me into the shed.
I want to hit him with my free arm, but he shakes me and throws me onto the dirty floor.
I get up quickly because I’m angry, because I don’t want to talk to Brother on the floor.
Before I can yell at him, before I can ask why he hates me so much, he points to the broken staircase and says, “Today’s the anniversary.
” I don’t know what he’s talking about. Brother gets mad and kicks one of the trunks where we store the things we don’t use.
The lid opens with the impact, and I see my sister’s dress, the one with the blue flowers on it.
I go over to the trunk, kneel down, and very carefully touch the dress.
It’s starched and someone has folded it delicately.
The flowers shine like tiny shooting stars. That’s when I remember everything.
I’m struck by a pain that feels like my chest is splitting open, like it’s being slit in half.
The pain is so intense that I lie down on the dirty floor and curl up in a fetal position to hold back my screams. In my mind, I see my sister in the dress with the blue flowers.
I hear Brother’s axe outside, but the blows don’t affect me.
I see myself calling to my sister from the top of the staircase with the loose railing that Father never fixed.
But I’m not myself, I’m the girl who lives in the mirrors.
Like me, her eyes are too big and her hair is black.
But hers is shiny, and she doesn’t tie it back.
My sister climbs the stairs, and the other girl pushes her.
She watches my sister fall until she hears her neck snap.
Brother’s axe stops. The other girl smiles constantly, it’s an inner smile no one can see.
She smiles even when she sees Brother run in screaming, and she says it was an accident, that their sister slipped; she smiles even when she hugs Mother, who’s crying; she smiles even when she comforts Father, who’s screaming with rage and blaming himself for not fixing the railing; she smiles even when she cleans up the shards of the mirrors someone broke on the night of my sister’s death.
She smiles even when they cover the small coffin with earth, even when she sees the people dressed in black leave.
Then she stands over the grave, spreads her lips wide, and truly smiles.
She smiles showing her teeth, while she drags her feet and draws small wings on the damp earth.
She moves as though she were dancing, but no one sees her.
I lie still on the dirty floor. I want to disappear, but I get up.
I look at Brother, neaten my hair, and hold back my tears as I shake off my dress and apron.
I gaze into the broken mirrors but see nothing.
I close the lid on the trunk and leave the shed without saying a word.
I walk to the river. I feel Brother’s steps behind me.
He’s the one who gives me stones to slip into my apron pockets.
They’re heavy. I want to look Brother in the eye, but I don’t because he already knows, because he’s always seen the other girl inside me.
I step into the river. The current is strong.
I’m cold, but this cold is different because it doesn’t hurt.
Before I sink down, I see my sister on the shore.
She looks at me with those eyes of hers that seem to smile.
The sun isn’t out, but her hair is shining.
The blue flowers on her dress get bigger until they disappear. Then only water surrounds me.