Keep Her Safe

(TW - Sensitive Content)

The cornflower blue eyes looking at me could have been my own reflection many years ago. Or they could have been the eyes of someone I once held dear. They were neither.

“Can I bring Annabelle to the tea party, Mommy?” Sophie’s voice interrupted my thoughts before they traveled further down the unpleasant path. I smiled.

“Of course, baby. Let’s set another place at the table.” 

I watched my daughter carefully arrange a porcelain tea cup and saucer on the miniature table. I held back the chair for her to seat her favorite doll, and together we pushed it under the table. 

“Perfect!” She beamed up at me, her blue eyes sparkling, filling me with a fierce joy.

“I can’t believe she’s five.” Anthony slipped his arm around my waist, startling me, making me cringe before hearing his comforting voice.

Five. I studied my daughter, my mini-me, wearing a yellow sundress and sandals perfect for the occasion. Her blond hair was lighter than I would have thought possible from hours in the sunshine.

“Yes. She’s growing up fast,” I forced out a response to my husband’s words hanging in the air. “Too fast,” I thought. “She’s growing up too fast.” 

The sun’s heat intensified the colors of the yard, the green of the grass, the blue of the sky, bringing a sense of surrealism to the moment. I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms for distraction. 

Five. Sophie was five. 

“Grandma’s here!” My daughter ran across the yard and threw herself into my mother’s outstretched arms. My father stood a few feet behind carrying a bouquet of pink helium balloons. Just to the side stood Uncle Steve.

Uncle Steve.

The rage bubbled up, going from zero to one hundred in a millisecond. I opened the glass sliding door on the deck and stepped into the kitchen. Placing my hands on the cool marble countertop, I fought for control. I would not ruin my daughter’s special day.

“It’s your birthday,” Uncle Steve winked at me from the narrow doorway of my room. 

“I’m five years old,” I replied earnestly to the man whom I had trusted.

“You’re a big girl now.” He grinned as he entered the room and quietly closed the door behind him.

“Need any help?” My mother placed a hand on my shoulder, bringing me back to present day. The horrific milestone of my fifth birthday was pushed back into the shadows where it lived.

“Can you bring the iced tea out to the yard? I’ll make more, it’s going fast.” I placed the pitcher along with some plastic cups onto the tray. The clicking of the ice cubes made an unsettling sound in the heavy silence.

“What’s he doing here?” I longed to ask my mother, my protector. “He’s a monster.” I wanted to smash the tray out of her hands, let the pitcher crash to the floor breaking into tiny shards. “How could you? How dare you?” 

Instead, I stayed quiet, the cornflower blue eyes of yesteryear halting my anger, leading me down another path. “It’s time.”  Like a whisper, a gentle breeze on the stifling hot day, the message came to me.

As if in a trance, I went upstairs to the master bedroom, closed and locked the door behind me. No one needed to know my plan or witness my actions. I was on my own as I had been since turning five. 

My mother’s voice floated up through the window. Offering the guests the cool beverage, she was putting on a show for the “mother of the year” award. Who was I to judge?  I looked into the mirror with disgust. I, too, had danced upon that stage, winning a prize for my acting, while my younger sister suffered the consequences of silence.

Her appearance at the coffee shop shocked me as we had been estranged for many years. The guilt ate at me like a cancer, my disease reflected back in her bloodshot, unfocused blue eyes. Loose strands of greasy blond hair escaped her ponytail. I longed to brush them back and stroke her cheek, but knew that she would reject my affection. She would be valid in her feelings, as I had lost that privilege years ago.  I had failed her.

“You got it?” I whispered to my sister.

“I told you I would.” She reached out to hold my hand, her fingers hot and clammy around mine. Giving me a gentle squeeze before retreating to her side of the table, she left me with a tiny baggie in my palm. I closed my fingers around it.

“Thank you,” I exhaled shakily.

“How’s the baby?” She finally asked, inquiring about her niece.

“She’s beautiful. You would adore her,” I answered wistfully. The two most important girls in my life had never met. It didn’t seem possible.

“Keep her safe.”

She pulled on her hood and left the coffee shop. The jingling of the door chimes marked the occasion with false cheer.  I followed her out and watched her walk down the street without looking back. It was the last time I saw her alive.

I felt around through the slit in the mattress, my fingers brushing against the cold handle of the knife that had lain under me since my teenage years. I never used it, but knowing it was there allowed me to sleep through the night better than any sleep aid would. Digging deeper, I retrieved the small baggie knowing it was from that same lethal batch that had killed my sister. Images of the flashing lights and sirens followed by my mother’s screams replayed on an endless loop unresolved. My anger at my sister’s reckless behavior was still raw. We had a plan which did not include her own indulgence.

I stood and straightened my yellow sundress while studying my reflection in the mirror. My blue eyes stared back, filling me with sudden strength and peace. I had failed my sister. I’d be damned if I also fail my daughter.

“She’s five,” Uncle Steve grinned at me as I returned to the party with the drink in my hand, the empty baggie tucked back into the depths of the mattress. Sweat glistened on his forehead under his thin gray hair. The new version of him never replaced the one seared into my psyche of his younger self, his dark hair falling over his brown eyes as he lay beside me in my tiny bed.

“Yes, she’s five. She’s all grown up.” I handed the plastic cup of iced tea to the man who had stolen my innocence and my sister. “Enjoy.”  

I smiled, playing the part of the loving niece, and watched him take his first sip.