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Humanity
Just another Sunday afternoon

Just another Sunday afternoon

 Preface

      Hatred can be defined as a human feeling that pulls from the darkest depth of our existence. The most gruesome actions occur from the hate humans feel; wars, murder, violence, and discrimination. Hate is the vilest part of the human psyche, yet it originates from the purest emotion, love. Love and hate go hand in hand as extreme emotions on separate sides of the same spectrum. Without love, we would have no hate, without hate we would have no love, and without either, we would not be human.

Chapter 1: Just another Sunday afternoon

Today is a relaxing, normal Sunday afternoon. I sit in a field near the park, a light breeze runs through my long, golden hair and caresses the papers I hold. The sun beams down happily, kissing my cheeks with pleasant warmth. The park is filled with the noise of small children enjoying each other’s company, which isn’t a completely enjoyable sound but I’ve grown fond of it with the time that I have spent at this park. I decide to take a small break from the chemistry homework my cruel teacher decided to force upon me on such a glorious day. Stretching my limbs, I fall backward into the silky grass with a sigh of relief. I stare at the sky earnestly like it contains all the answers to life’s most famous questions.

“What’s the meaning of life,” I whispered upward jokingly. It responses with a simple breeze that makes the answer unmistakably clear. These moments. The sky is an electric blue, vibrantly stretching across the horizon, altering all that it touches. It holds a single, puffy cloud afloat in the depth of its blue. I marvel at the sheer purity of the white against blue, pondering how it remains untainted by the intensity that surrounds it.

 “Today shouldn’t be a day to sit around and study,” I say out loud to myself as I begin to pull myself away from the comforting ground.  “Lilith, come here!” I call out, “we’re getting ice-cream.” Lilith is my younger sister. She is a tiny 6 year old with sweet blue eyes and a timid voice. Many older siblings hold an unexplainable dislike for the younger sibling, but not me. I love my fragile sister and all the times we have spent playing together at this park. This park was our secret hideout away from the ghastly house we live in, our sanctuary of sorts. 

“Ice- cream!” she says excitedly as she begins skipping towards me. Her thick, black curls ripple with each step like a slinky that has been pushed down a flight of stairs.  Her pink dress, which is covered in small flower patterns, danced about her legs as the breeze tosses it from side to side. “Thank you, Bear,” she says as she hugs my upper thighs. She still can’t fully pronounce my name, Blair, so it instead comes out as bear. I give her an adoring smile as I begin to put my unfinished homework into my old, torn up backpack that I had brought with me. I take her hand and lead her to the sidewalk. The ice cream shop is only about three blocks away from the park and today is the perfect day for a walk. We start down the rough sidewalk and begin passing the first houses near the park. Our house is the third on the corner, colored with red-brown brinks and a large oak door decorated with elegant carvings.

This large, classical house is where I spent a majority of my childhood. It wasn’t a pleasant childhood, until Lilith came along. My mother, if she can still be referred to as a “mother”, is an alcoholic and my father was never around. Most my nights were spent cowering in fear of one of her legendary temper tantrums which consisted of throwing broken beer bottles and sobbing apologies as she puked her lunch up on the sofa. When Lilith came, it was like my dull, black and white world was suddenly filled of the most vibrant shades of life. I began feeling a joy that was never known to me before. I grew close to another human being and, for the first time, I could feel happiness.

I stop in front of the house, dreading to enter. I would happily avoid entering the den of the monster, however, I had forgotten my wallet inside. In order to buy things, money is a necessity. I look at Lilith uneasily. I refuse to take her inside with me because it is mid-afternoon, and the drinking usually became heavy around this time. She doesn’t need to know to what hardship is yet, so I will protect her as long as possible. I guild her gently to the front steps and sit her down. “Stay here. I’ll be right back,” I say as I pat her head before heading inside.

I crack the door hesitantly, waiting for a flying glass to hit the wall as my intoxicated mother yells accusing nonsense. I exhale appreciatively as nothing flies toward me. A quick look around the decayed house reveals that my mother is already laboriously passed out on the floor of her bathroom. I would have attempted to move her to her bed but an earlier attempt left me with three claw shaped scars on the upper part of my right arm. Her body is contorted in odd angles and her amber hair lies like a mask that covers her ashen face. I glance at the freshly broken mirror, unfeeling. My hair sprawled lazily against my thin frame and I noticed that my full lips were drawn into a thin line against my foreboding face. My eyes, a deep aqua color, seem to be a part of a completely separate expression, a more peaceful one, however, this is only an illusion created by a fractured glass. I hover only a second longer before hastily grabbing my wallet and gliding out the door.

I exit into the friendly afternoon skies. I hear a nest of blue jays singing the song of hunger to their over protective mom. I look up at the old weeping willow tree where the momma bird was hunched gingerly over her children, feeding them. A surprising pang of jealousy filled my emotions. I aggressively shake my head to expel the grueling emotions that I’ve held dormant for the last 17 years. I glance over to see Lilith siting near the flower bed doodling excitedly with a stick in the dirt. “What are you drawing?” I asked in a kind tone, scared that our trip here had been a traumatizing experience. Of course, Lilith is very rarely home while our mother is conscious so she only has a vague idea of who our mother really is. Fortunately, my fears were for not. I glance over her shoulder to find a poorly illustrated flower next to a couple of squiggly lines and a circle.

“I’m giving you a flower to make you feel better,” Lilith says joyfully. I am disappointed in myself to allow any feeling other than blunt happiness show through. Lilith brings such a vibrant happiness into my life so I feel I should only give her the same.

“I feel fine,” I say lamely, my voice squeaking with dishonest vivacity. “Come on! A creamy, cold goodness awaits us,” I say quickly, not giving any opportunity to reject my evident lie. She leaps to her feet, giddy in a way that all 6 year olds are. She forgets all about our conversation because of her childish mind leads her into the looming event of enjoying ice-cream. We continue onto the path which leads to the back of the shop through a small wooded area. The lush trees sway gently in the swirling breeze. The area is overcrowded with flowers, and gracefully fluttering fireflies that blink faintly against the shifting afternoon skies. A single stump stands alone in the middle of trees, lonely and mysterious. It seems oddly out of place among the trees that extent eagerly toward the sky. This bleak sidewalk transforms from a desolate structure into a fantasy like excursion that leads the noble knight and his horse to a feeble princess. Soon, we exit, and like with most things that are fantasy related, the magic fades. The fancy carriage morphs back into a pumpkin because all things that are whimsical can’t be preserved long after the reality infused midnight strikes.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

We step inside a low-lit ice-cream shop with dirty, pastel colored walls and a dulling yellow tiled floor. I don’t frequently come to this shop because of a lack of money and poor reviews on Yelp. I immediately see why the reviews are excessively low.  The walls are grimy and there sits piles of roach droppings in one far corner of the floor. It is placed under the impression of concealment, but it is too carelessly positioned to be hidden. There is a feminine clerk who stands behind an old, vintage looking counter. She falsifies an enthusiastic grin as we approach. I can tell by the way she acts that her nose is stuck so far up that she may not be able to see past it.  “Would you like a sample? We carry a variety of flavors that range from vanilla to carrot mango,” the underpaid cashier’s voice lulled to monotonous end.

“No thank you,” I say a little too urgently. She makes me uncomfortable because of the emptiness in her eyes. She stares at me without actually seeing anything; like I’m so exceedingly boring that I begin to fade into the background.  “Can we just get two sundaes please,” I say softer to compensate for my harsh attitude towards her. I shouldn’t blame her because she makes me uncomfortable. She hasn’t actually done anything to warrant for my sharp tongue. I smile down at Lilith who isn’t in her over excited, child state. She tends to be farouche near newer people. She hugs herself tightly around my legs, much like an environmental protestor preparing for the bulldozers.

            The cashier intensely gazes at me, analyzing me in a new kind of way. “Two? You don’t look like someone who could even finish one,” she says as her snobbish personality reveals itself. I was obviously mistaken for showing her any benefit of the doubt. I open my mouth to stomp a deep hole in her self-esteem, but in that moment, a startling event occurs. A tiny hand urgently leads me to a comparatively dazzling outside. Lilith looks at me, a sorrowful fear playing at her expression.

            “I want to go back to the park!” Lilith says in a commanding voice that I have never experienced before from such a timid child. She pulls me back towards the mystical forest in an aggressive way.

            “What’s wrong sweetheart?” I ask as friendly as I can manage in such a shaken state of mind. Her behavior is disconcerting and unrecognizable. When was the last time she acted out? I begin thinking of anything that could make her this way. “Do you not want ice-cream?” I say confused. What kind of 6 year old doesn’t want ice-cream. I pull her to a stop before we exit the wooded area. She fidgets with her green pock-a-dot dress as I look at her with a burning curiosity. Wait, wasn’t her dress pink? I must be seeing things now. Thoughts whip through my overcrowded mind at hurricane like speed. I look at her urgently as though seeing is the same as understanding. Her skin isn’t just pale but rather translucent. Her dress isn’t changing colors but rather mirroring her background. What in the world is happening!? Lilith is fading out of reality! It’s like a photo shopped picture transforming before my very eyes. Should I call for help? What would I even say, “help, my sister is fading?” then I really would be labeled as crazy.

            A single tear fell from Lilith’s innocent blue eyes. “It’s too late bear. You’re starting to take notice. I won’t be able to protect you forever. I love you bear” As she spoke, her voice transformed from a soft, timid sound to something with a demonic edge to it. Lilith’s facial expression chances from a grieving child to a gruesome beast. Her blue eyes darkened to an almost brown color but then it brightens to a bold red.

            “Lilith?! What the hell is going on? You are too young for colored contacts!” I feel a little hysterical, even a little crazy. What could she possibly mean? What have I noticed? How in the hell are her eyes changing colors?  This feels much like a television reality show that goes around pranking people. Maybe, there’s a camera hidden somewhere. I feel that my added humor might boost the ratings. They should pay me for it. I don’t tend to watch any T.V because in order to watch T.V, one must have the ability to pay cable bills.

            Lilith glides toward me gently, almost as if approaching an injured animal that might react in an unforeseen way. “Blaire,” she says pronouncing my name correctly without a hint of hesitation. “I’m not real. At least not in the way that you knew me.” I look around extremely confused.

            Lilith saw my confusion and placed a translucent hand on my cheek. Her hands are cold and rough, not the hands of my sister. “When was I born?” she asks it simply and with a harsh tone that shook my already unstable mind. 

I opened my mouth to formulate a very obvious answer, but nothing came to mind. I snap my mouth closed robotically. “I can’t remember,” I reply quivering. Lilith slowly removes her hand and with it a small piece of myself disconnects from me. I search my mind intensely coming up with nothing, not even early memories of her. I know for a fact that I’ve been with Lilith since I was 10.

I remember back to a fearful childhood. I sat cowering under my shabby bed, looking out into the dark hall where my mother stood. She was having the worst temper tantrum that I had ever experienced, because this was the night after my father had left us. She yelled, “This is your fault! You’re the reason he left,” and no matter how tightly I covered my ears I could still hear her pushing any blame she could onto my 10 year old personality. I sat under that bed, bleeding from the bottle she had hit me with. I had no one. Utterly alone, scared, and helpless, a hand reached out to me. A 6 year old’s warm arms hugged and comforted me in my frailties. That was the night when I first noticed Lilith.

Lilith was 6 when I was 10 so that must mean that she was born when I was 4. “You were born in 2004!” I say matter-of-factly and confident. My memories might be a little faulty but my math skills make up for it.

An amused expression passes over Lilith’s face. “It is 2017, right?” she says as though explaining a simple concept to a child. “So, if I were born in 2004, as you have said, then my current age would be 13. You see me as if I am 6 years old. I have always been 6,” she continues slowly. She seems to enjoy my confusion.

I realize she has always been 6. Never once have we celebrated a birthday and she hasn’t aged at all since I was 10. How can this be possible? How come I didn’t ever notice?

 No. please, no. I suddenly think of a fleeting concept that has been clawing at the edge of my mind. The cashier couldn’t see Lilith. But why?  

Is Lilith a figment of my imagination? Am I really crazy after all?

I look at her, considering a reality I couldn’t yet fathom. The closer I look the more faint she became. That girl that was never truly my sister vanishes before my eyes.

            A fountain of uncontrollable tears fall heavily to the morose ground. “I love you too Lilith,” I say softly, knowing there is no one there to hear my agony. My loneliness diminishes the vibrant colors that surround me into the sullen reality which has become my life.       

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