A Sister’s Love

1

A sudden shriek and I am awake. I sit up in my bed startled, but not alarmed. Once I catch my breath, I check the clock. I don't know exactly why I check the clock; I already know what time it is. Its 1:42 in the morning. It is almost pitch black due to the rain clouds passing through on their way to Wichita. The clock emits a dull red glow which is just enough for me to see my sister.

Janie is standing in the corner wearing those trashy old clothes with that insidious grin. Don’t get me wrong, I love my sister, but she looks exactly the same every night. And that grin. Like some sort of macabre ghoul who is about to fulfill her ghastly act of savagery. I am not in the mood tonight. “Please take that stupid smile off your face,” I yelled.

“You do not scare me, and I am tired of you showing up here. Janie, I have apologized more times than I can count. Will you please just let it go already?”

She continues to look me right in the eye. I let out a long, slow audible sigh. “Alright Janie, be that way.” I decide to go downstairs to get a glass of water, as is my nightly routine. Janie follows about 8 feet behind me as is her nightly routine.

I get down to the kitchen which was decorated with the most fashion-forward decor of about sixty years ago. The kitchen is old, outdated. The once pastel yellow paint on the walls is now peeling in some areas and covered in brown and black splotches in others. The stove hasn't been updated since then, but that’s fine since I don't cook. The fridge is a new purchase, maybe 10 years ago. I do like my drinks cold. I don't actually remember what the original tile looked like, but now it is inundated with cracks and dirt build up. The look is shabby at best.

I pour myself a glass of water and sit at my old mahogany table. Janie stands in the opposite corner next to the fridge. I don't look at her, but I know she is looking at me.

“Ah hell,” I exclaim. I stand up and walk to the fridge. I instantly feel a chill though I am not sure if it’s from the fridge or Janie. She just looks at me. I pull out a bottle of some bottom of the barrel bourbon and poor me a glass.

Janie continues to watch. “Stop judging me Janie! You don't know what it’s like,” I tell her.

2

I wake up the next morning, groggy and slightly hungover, as usual. It is just after twelve noon, but at least Janie is gone. “I only have one thing to do today anyway,” I tell myself. I sit up in bed, turn and place my feet on the cold floor. I stare down at my 61-year-old feet. They are riddled with purple veins and age spots. I think about how old and tired I am. I have lived like this for too long and I am exhausted.

I grew up in this house. It is all I know. Mommy and Daddy bought it when they were pregnant with me. It was a great little house. It was a beautiful, two-story, yellow craftsman with three bedrooms. My parents always wanted lots of children.

Janie was born six years later. I loved my sister with all my heart. Mommy died, cancer, when I was ten and Daddy was always working, so I essentially raised her.

She was the most beautiful girl in our small town. She had long raven hair that she always wore in a low ponytail to the side. Her pale skin was smooth and never had any blemishes. She had big blue eyes and full red lips. When she got to be 13 or 14, she blossomed into a tall thin, yet still curvy, woman. I always thought she could have moved to New York and been a model. Everyone loved her.

I, on the other hand, was the bland version of Janie. I paled in comparison to her bright light. I was fine with it though. I was responsible for Janie, so I knew her luster was a direct result of everything I had done for her. She was my pride and joy.

3

It was such a shame what happened, such a shame. It was the middle of summer. One of the hottest summers I can ever recall.

I had just turned 24 and was working at Barb's Diner over on route 254. It wasn't a glamorous job, but I had Janie to look after. Besides, I was dating Johnny, a local mechanic’s son. He was as dreamy as they come. Six-foot-tall, thick black hair and smoldering brown eyes. All the girls wanted to date him, but he chose me. We were in love and engaged to be married next year when we had saved up enough money to buy a house.

One night, everything changed. I was getting off the evening shift from Barb's. It was after midnight and I was beat. Johnny and I were supposed to meet up that night, but I canceled because I was called in to fill someone’s shift. I didn't care because every hour I worked was one hour closer to the life I had always wanted.

I arrived home and the house was dark. Daddy worked the overnight shift at the factory two towns over so I knew he would be gone. Janie had said she was seeing her friend, Cassie, that night.

When I got inside, I realized there was someone in the house. There were soft voices coming from upstairs. I walked up the stairs to Janie's room assuming she and Cassie had stayed in. Nothing. I noticed the light was on in my bedroom. Alarmed I took a couple steps back. Who was in my room? Was it a burglar?

I grabbed Janie's bronze frog statue sitting by her door. It was a gift Mommy gave her when she was a little girl. The frog had a flower in its hat and a smile on its face. I inched towards the door. With every step, I took a breath until I got to the door. The muffled voices almost seemed to be laughing.

I threw open the door ready to attack. There was Janie and Johnny lying in my bed naked.

My memory of what happened next is gone. I blacked out. When I came to, I saw Johnny and Janie lying in bed covered in blood as was the smiling frog in my right hand. I stood there thinking about the future I had envisioned with Johnny. I thought about the children we were going to have. I always wanted one boy and two girls. We were going to get a modest house with a big backyard. We wanted one with a tall oak tree so we could tie up a swing.

Then, my thoughts went to Janie. I thought of when she was younger. She was so little when mommy died. I don't think she ever fully understood why it happened. It was not fair for her to lose her mother at such a young age.

I brought my attention to the room once again. I had to move, and I had to move fast. I cleaned the blood off Janie, clothed her and wrapped her up in a sheet. I did the same for Johnny. I packed them into the back of the truck that Janie and I shared and drove it straight into a lake a few miles down the road. I threw the bronze frog in after them. I knew that I would need to report her missing along with the truck, so my hope was that everyone would assume they ran off together.

There was a search party that went looking for them every night for a few weeks. There was an investigation, but in a small town like mine, the police eventually moved on. It was easier for everyone if they just ran off together.

Everyone felt sorry for me, of course. I got some attention, many people sent flowers and casseroles, but eventually life went back to normal. My dad died one year later to the day. He liked to smoke and drink, so at 56 his heart gave out. Many said he died of heartache, having lost his wife and Janie. I can’t say I was surprised, but I was despondent and completely alone.

4

Janie started coming into my bedroom the night after Daddy died. At first, I was terrified, but I couldn't tell anyone as I was the only who knew she was dead. Her scream would wake me every night at 1:42. I knew I was the only who heard it. After her scream she would stand in the corner, smiling. She is still wearing the same maroon top and jean shorts I put on her 37 years ago. Her head is bloody, but you can still see how beautiful her face was.

Though it took many years, I eventually got engaged again to Mitchell, the man who owned the local grocery. On the day of our wedding, he moved into this old house. That night he had a heart attack. I called an ambulance, but he didn’t even make it to the hospital. The doctors said, while it was odd that a young man in great physical condition would have a heart attack, it can happen.

A couple years later, a neighbor brought over a kitten to keep me company. He died that first night. I don't know if it was a heart attack, but I got the message. Janie didn't like guests in our house.

Sometimes I’d ask her questions. I’d ask her how she is doing or if she feels any pain. I was curious if it’s cold where she is, what she does when she is not with me. Sometimes I’d tell her stories about my day, people I meet, gossip from the neighborhood. She never responds of course, but she smiles. As the time has gone on, I am getting older. I have grown weary and bored of seeing her there.

5

As I lay my head down on my pillow, I take a look at the clock. It’s just after ten and I am both apprehensive and relieved. Janie doesn't know it, but tonight I will not be seeing her. Today, I phoned over to Doc Jensen down the road. I told him my back was out again and he prescribed me something for the pain.

I gulped down the entire bottle along with some of that bourbon from the fridge. Enough hydrocodone to take down a horse I reckon. As I start to get drowsy, I think about Janie. I think about the last Christmas before Mommy died. For Christmas dinner, we had the biggest, juiciest turkey, I had ever seen. After dinner, we sang Christmas carols. We all laughed when Janie tried to sing along but didn't know any of the words.

Before I drifted off, I started to wonder if I would see Janie when I die, if we would be together again. I wondered what was waiting for me once I die and hoped l would I finally get some respite. I hoped Janie would finally get some rest.

A scream wakes me at 1:42. This time it’s almost a chuckle. Janie is in the corner with her ratty clothes and that sinister smile.