I Wish We Were Alone

Sicilia should have been used to the lonely weekends at her house where her only companion was a 7-year-old no conversationalist brother. Her parents thrust it upon her every 5 days so she really should have been, but she wasn’t. 

Not just because a sixteen-year-olds life wasn’t nearly the one she was living. Sure the parties and getting in a little juvenile trouble was appealing. Just as the Friday night games and interacting with the few friends she had met would be a pretty big gift at this point. However what Sicillia really wanted was to get out of the new house, that was filled with an emptiness trying to cover up for things lost.

That’s why she couldn’t blame her parents for escaping to “work” getaways every weekend. She also couldn’t be angry that they could look at their two children and turn away dissatisfied that the third one was no longer present. She definitely couldn’t get upset at Turner, her younger brother, for choosing to save his words for imaginary and nonexistent people. 

No, Sicilia wouldn’t be mad for her family's coping strategies but she did wish she would be given the opportunity to find one of her own. Tonight didn’t look like it would be that night. 

After picking up Turner from the elementary school, she drove two miles home to the house that replaced their childhood one about six months ago. On the way there she could overhear Turner mumbling to the invisible child she was also apparently carrying around. 

“It was pretty good Lee, but I’m happier to be seeing you,” she could overhear her little brother say.

At first, everyone thought that Turner was talking to their middle brother Sean but the name he used didn’t match up. Still as strange as the situation was, it was nice to hear the sound of her brother's voice.

Much different from, “So you had a good day at school, Turner?” 

The words got her brother's attention, even some eye contact in the viewfinder but no words. Instead, there was a heavy silence until Turner looked away and continued his conversation with Lee. 

The same thing happened to her parents, and from the many complaints of his teacher, it happened to everyone else as well. However, the therapist that he was now seeing didn’t see it as too much of a problem.

“It’s normal for these things to happen with children after losing a loved one,” Dr. Kalsow said. 

Sicillia was not used to this meaning of normal.

As the car turned into the neighborhood and up the driveway, the teen felt a determined set of eyes on her. 

A forty-year-old government official had no right to be watching Sicillia the way Mr. Graves constantly did. Yet that didn’t stop the perverse middle-aged man and it also didn’t hold him back from constantly offering up his assistance when the two siblings were home alone. Something that Sicillia would not be taking him up on.

Making it inside, away from heated stares, Sicilia sets up in the kitchen getting dinner ready for the night. She also listened in to the regular argument Turner and Lee had about whether they would be playing with dolls or action figurines. It still confused her how it always sounded like Turner lost these arguments. 

Quickly throwing away a small note with love and thanks from her parents, she gets started on a frozen pizza. One that’s hot and ready before she makes any headway on homework. 

Heading up to get her brother, she stops right outside his open door and sees him turned around towards some dolls his parents had recently bought. Not thinking he notices her, Sicilia is about to say something when Turner comments, “We’re not alone.”

Thankfully Sicillia is used enough to his behavior to not get constant chills anymore. “You’re right Turn, I’m sorry to bother you both but dinner’s ready,” Sicilia replies making sure the cheeriness she reserves for her brother is heard in her voice. 

Turner looks behind her and does something that Sicilia thinks she imagines for a moment, “I wasn’t talking about you, Lee wanted me to tell you that.”

The words from his mouth are ominous but Sicillia is more focused on the fact that he was speaking to her. She gains a goofy smile, ignoring what he said and trying to think of what to say back when the doorbell rings. 

Turner gives her this little look that says, “See I told you so”, and then heads downstairs. Both of the kids head to the foyer and Sicillia opens the door just a sliver with her foot barring in the rest. 

It’s not surprising at all when the face on the other side is Mr. Graves wearing his insincere inviting smile. “Alone again,” he asks with what sounds like very forced empathy. 

Sicillia doesn’t even try to smile, not wanting to give the man any ideas, “For a little while.”

He was clearly aware that no one besides the two were home but he didn’t need to know for how long.

Mr. Graves nods his head in faux sympathy, “ Well if you’re feeling too tired to make dinner for your brother, I have some extra. You’re both welcome to come over and join me.”

Of course they were but Sicillia didn’t know if they would be welcome to leave so easily. The man was strange in a way that warned for her to get on with shutting and locking the door. 

“Thank you but I already have dinner prepared,” she says shortly and tries to close the door.

He catches the thick wood with a more manic smile, “Maybe next time then.” 

Sicilia makes a noncommittal sound and forcefully attempts to get the door shut. Finally, with teeth forced together so hard they have to hurt, Mr. Graves steps back.

Her parents don’t listen to much these days but she would have to make them when it comes to their increasingly alarming neighbor. Sicilia wasn’t sure she could deal with it much longer. 

Trying to bring her mindset back to normal, she leads the way to the kitchen and gets on with the meal. Only, after a couple of bites into her favorite choice of easy dinners, she remembers the conversation with Turner. Or more specifically the fact that there was actually a conversation in the first place.

Deciding the best way for it to happen again was to bring up what they last talked about, Sicilia questions, “Hey Turn, how did you know about Mr. Graves being here? You see him walk up or something?”

Turner swallows a very large amount of cheese and looks at her across the table with his usual dose of silence. Followed by him turning to the chair next to him with some quiet mumbling and a little shake of his head. 

Understanding that he was most likely talking to Lee, Sicilia wondered if including his friend in the conversation would cause a different outcome. 

“Oh that’s right you said Lee was the one who warned me. Thank you for that Lee…Was there anything else they were wanting me to know,” Sicilia attempts again?

This time Turner’s first response is to look at his friend with some telepathically voiced words and come to a presumed agreement between the two. 

Sicilia’s brother moved his eyes back towards her and surprisingly opened his mouth, “Lee thinks you’re being sneaky.”

Sicilia forces her smile to stay light and easy, “What do you mean? I’m not being sneaky.”

Turner's hands curl into tighter fists as he waits a moment to respond, “Yes you are. She knows you don’t really want to talk to her!”

Well, Lee caught her there, what she wanted was to talk to her younger brother for the first time in six months. “Lee” was just going to have to understand she was the way to do it.

“I would really like to talk to both of you,” Sicilia says instead of voicing her inner thoughts.

This seems to get Turner to blow up as he raises from his seat and starts to yell, “No you don’t. If that was true, you never would have stopped talking to her in the first place!”

At this point, Sicillia’s feeling very confused over what Turner’s talking about and why he’s getting so upset. She’s also a little concerned about just how normal and healthy this imaginary friend is.

“Turner I never talked to..”, she starts in a calm and soothing voice.

Her younger brother cuts her off, “Yes you did, and Kylee’s getting even more upset that you don’t remember her.”

“Kylee, what…” Sicilia is the one to cut herself off this time. 

She was about to deny this and call her brother’s words ridiculous, in the nicest way possible, but that name was familiar. She did have a friend named Kylee when she was about Turner’s age. A small blonde-haired girl from their old neighborhood.

Their favorite thing to do was play with Sicillia’s old dolls that had been passed down from her mom’s side. Kylee would set up a tea party for them and instruct Sicillia and the dolls how to hold their teacups properly. She was a fun friend even if a little bossy.

Sicilia tries to remember what had happened to the girl but all she can recall is her parents saying her friend had moved away.

Ignoring the similar names, Sicilia continues, “I guess I did know a Kylee at one point but I don’t think it was the same one Turner.”

Mainly because she was quite sure Kylee hadn’t been imaginary. Her parents would see and talk to her, so the girl couldn’t have been in her head.

“It was Sicillia, I would say just ask Sean but she got mad at him. He was going to let mommy and daddy take him away from her,” Turner speaks with little more than a whisper. At this point, his eyes are on the table with enough glare to put a hole through it. 

Sicilia takes a moment to understand what her younger brother is saying. She’s not sure where he got these ideas from but it was starting to become very unnerving. 

Sicilia could deal with the imaginary friends but she didn’t like Turner thinking that this friend had been mad at their dead sibling. Besides the way, he said it almost sounded like Kylee’s anger was the reason Sean wasn’t here anymore.

Sean’s death was an accident, he was playing and fell just the right way down the stairs at their old home. Sicilia was angry that one little accident meant a broken neck and a 12-year-old life, but she was also sure that was what it had been. After all, Sean had been the only one upstairs at the time.

“I’m sure Kylee wasn’t mad at Sean. Maybe like you, Kylee is mad that Sean doesn’t get to be here with us. It’s definitely a hard thing to get used to,” Sicilia remarks wishing her parents were having this conversation instead. 

She was a teenager trying to guess how a 7-year-old was handling trauma. She didn’t have the tools to deal with her own and certainly wasn’t equipped to deal with his.

Turner got up slowly, all of his earlier anger transforming into resolve. He was done talking to his sister and though it saddened Sicilia, she wouldn’t feed those types of fantasies.

Letting out a sigh, Sicilia drinks from her glass and lets the lukewarm water wash away the indigestion she was beginning to attain. 

However, suddenly Turner turns around while Sicilia’s glass is still poised to her lips, “Pinkies up Sici. You always did forget.”

Then Turner turns around like nothing happened and continues on up to his room. Not bothering to check on his sister who he just left with familiar words and a set of full-body chills. 

Later on that night, Sicillia closes her eyes to the words of her old friend. She’s told herself about a thousand times that it was a coincidence or that she had brought it up to her brother sometimes without remembering. It had to be that because nothing else made sense. 

For once, glad that no one was around to interrupt her with conversation or goodnights, she forced her brain to finally shut off and fall asleep.

Only Sicillia didn’t get to escape in her dreams that night. Instead, she got to relive a memory that had been brought forth due to earlier that evening.

Sicilia saw herself at 6 years old as she stood throwing a tantrum in front of her parents. Her mom was taking one of Sicillia’s favorite dolls while saying, “We’re going to give this to Kylee. She has to go away and we don’t want her to be lonely.”

Younger Sicillia was upset just as much about the doll as she was about her friend going away. However, she was also confused because Kylee was still in the room with them giving a glare to her parents. 

“Kylee’s right there Mom. And she said we would stay friends forever,” Sicilia hears herself cry out.

“No, she’s not honey. She’s gone away and you need to accept that. No one over there,” her mom explains in a way that older Sicillia recognizes as a lie.

Sicilia looks over to Kylee, “Yes she is.”

This time it’s her dad who gruffly voices, “No she’s not. You’re not going to see her again.”

Sicilia nods her head knowing not to argue with her father and looks down sadly. Kylee was gone. 

The memory slowly goes away and Sicillia finds herself being pulled out of sleep. If she was really thinking hard, Sicilia could remember still seeing Kylee after that day. It’s just she wouldn’t talk to her anymore since her parents said what she was seeing wasn’t real. After a while, Sicillia couldn’t remember seeing Kylee at all.

Waking up slowly, Sicilia notices that there was some sort of hair brushing her face. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she noticed it was small fine hair connected to an old porcelain doll. One she hadn’t seen in a long time. 

Deciding that the doll was a lot less creepy during childhood, Sicilia sets it down and looks around the room. 

Something she regrets a second later when she stares into eyes that are only a few feet away from her bed. 

“Hi,” the non-aging girl says in a high-pitched voice.

Sicilia gulps, “Hey, what are you doing here? Where's Turner?”

Sicilia wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t dreaming, but it was clear this conversation was going to happen. All that she was concerned about was her brother and if he was ok as his friend visited her.

Kylee smiles, “Oh don’t worry he’s sleeping. We’re alone this time. Something that hasn’t happened for a while.”

Sicilia just stays silent looking at the girl whose smile was filled with a bitterness irregular for a child.

“Not since your mommy and daddy decided to take me away from you… They tried to do the same thing with Sean too. Only I wouldn't let them take away my friend that time,” the girl informs with a wistful smile.

“What do you mean, you wouldn’t let them,” Sicilia questions still feeling a little nervous but also starting to get angry.  

“He said he wasn’t allowed to talk to me anymore so I helped him down the stairs. Your mommy was very angry when I told her, she won’t even look at me anymore,” the little girl explains with no real emotion in her voice.

“You killed my brother,” Sicillia shout out in a rhetorical question.

Kylee tuts, “I made him like me so we could play. Only he had to move on pretty quickly.”

Sicilia hoped that this was a dream and some sort of imaginary ghost child wasn’t responsible for her brother's death.

“But don’t worry, I have Turner now. And your mommy and daddy know what will happen if they try to take him away. Hopefully, you remember too Sici,” the girl warns before heading over toward the door.

Darting up from her pillow for the second time, Sicilia looks around to notice light shining through the curtains and an ugly-looking doll missing from her bed. Meaning whatever it was that just happened, was part of her twisted imagination. Apparently, that sort of thing ran in her family.

Heading downstairs, to get breakfast ready before her brother wakes up, she's startled to see him already sitting at the table. He’s looking at her with a smile seen on another face and he has a certain doll in his lap.

“Lee said she talked to you,” Turner remarks as his head tilts to the side in question.

Sicilia nods her head, not knowing what else to say.

“Good,” Turner nods before playing with the doll and talking to his friend. “Oh and we’re not alone,” he tells her with a conspirational laugh before the doorbell rings.

Sicilia went to the door to go deal with her creepy neighbor as she realized the word alone would never hold the same meaning.