Tomorrow will be the anniversary of the worst day in my life. Nine years and that horrid day still haunts me. All that time passed and I never knew the pain my siblings felt. At least, not the full extent of the variants of pain. I never thought their truculent tendencies would develop so rapidly and stay with them until. . . I understood, in hindsight, what she was capable of, but-I just never . . . funny . . . I think she’s out there, somewhere. She’s like the shadow behind every corner, with how often I think of her. That day, so much like this one nearly nine years ago, still haunts my nightmares luridly. If only I knew . . .
“Mayna, stop this! Now, Mayna!” my brother, Mason, commanded our little sister as he pushed her to the floor.
It was five in the afternoon on an unusually warm night. It was the end of October just a few days’ shy of Halloween. My siblings were in one of their heated arguments. The quarrel had been going on for several minutes, while I concealed myself behind the stairs. Ever since it became just my siblings and I, four years prior, both had become hostile. I couldn’t intervene, though. I only did once and Mason locked us both in the dank basement for over a day. I know I was a coward of a fifteen-year-old for doing so, but I didn’t wish to face either of their wraths.
The situation was getting out of hand even for them. I know I should have stopped it then, but the fear I had overwhelmed me. I froze.
“No, Mason, I won’t stop! You can’t treat us like this!” Mayna yelled getting back on her feet, “Don’t you see you’re hurting us?!”
“I do what I do to teach you respect!” Mason bellowed, “You’d be better off if you would just listen to me!”
“Then I’ll make you see,” Mayna muttered venomously, looking at something glistening in her left hand.