When No One was Listening
Synopsis: Burdened with the guilt of her twin sisters death Sloane wanders through her existence doing everything possible to be invisible. Back in her home town she's forced into the spotlight when she catches the eye of the star quarter back, Eric Rainer, the boy who saved her so many years ago.Can she let go of the past enough to live? Is Eric really the hero everyone thinks he is? What will happen when no one is listening?
My fist slammed into her perfect face, pushing five grand worth of a nose job sickeningly to the right. I watched as the most popular girl in school stumbled, holding her hands over the wreck I’d made of her looks, no one would ever believe it was my dead sister’s fault.
Oh crap! I just punched the prom queen.
Are you happy now? I’m going to be in trouble AGAIN because of you!
Don’t blame me, I’m dead.
I have these kinds of conversations far too often with myself. I think I’m crazy. There’s plenty of things that I’m not; popular, gorgeous, normal but it’s what I know I am that bothers me the most. I am alone, I am broken, I am a murderer. Some things can be pushed down deep inside of you, but if you can still hear your dead twin’s voice in your head, well then they aren’t deep enough.
I almost drowned when I was eight years old, the day I killed my twin, a fact that had everything to do with my cold, wet fist smashing into Bitsy Ramones perfect nose. It shouldn’t have been a good feeling, her nose crunching under the rage, but it was.
Thin drops of blood stained her porcelain white skin, as it rolled, splattered and pooled at her feet. The dirty grout around the tile greedily sucked it up. The sound of the room rushed inside my ears, pounding in my head, her gasps, the jeering of onlookers, the sound of feet slapping against wet cement and loud, shrill laughter. The smell of chlorine, wet clothes and iron swam up my nose.
My perfect unbroken nose.
My sides ached with laughter. Stuttering breaths and every bit of my will power couldn’t stop the cackle rolling forth and ricocheting off the walls. Years upon years of repressed guilt and rage poured to the surface, falling from me in shrill peals of amusement. Everyone stood and stared in utter disbelief of the chaos I created. I found very little composer in the harsh stares, and lost it again as Bitsy whined,
“My nosth sthee brothke my nosth”
OMG, look at her face.
Do they make prom dresses for raccoons? Cuz that’s what she’ll look like by this afternoon.
I learned years ago I couldn’t quite the sound of my sister in my head, so why fight talking back? Sarah was always the adventurous one, the brave one. I forever hid behind her, afraid to look people in the eyes, afraid to stand up or speak my mind. Days like today, she often pushed my buttons and forced me into actions I would never take, like punching the most popular girl in school right in the face.
I went willingly as Mr. Hawthorn led me toward his office. The resounding slam of his door brought forth thoughts of jail cells clanging closed. I needed a cell, a padded cell to hide in. One where Sarah couldn’t find me or remind me of who I really was, a broken, lonely girl who killed the only person who ever cared, who now wanted nothing more than to be invisible, or maybe to be loved.
Sloane Christianson cheerleader slayer, priceless.
Stop, you got me in trouble!
Well you got me dead so I guess we’re even for today.
I would love some feedback. I'm not done revising it needs a little polishing but I think it's a story many would enjoy. Comments, suggestions and criticism are all welcome! Thanks for taking the time to look it over!
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