Twisted Dreams

By Siya Agarwal

The groceries fell to the floor. Red apples and green capsicums

rolling to freedom. Camilla didn't pay it any mind. A lump was

forming in her chest, pressing her heart. A white noise, filling her

mind. For the door to her apartment was wide open, the threshold

dark and eerie.

Stuttering breaths left her as she staggered forward, tripping

over the rug in her haste. She called out her name, all the while her

mind chanting in denial–It couldn't be. She didn't leave. She didn't!–

“Jamie!” Her shout was hoarse, reverberating through the house. But

neither laughter nor tears greeted her. She had really gone away.

Leaving the recluse of their safe haven. Leaving her. And gone. Gone

to the rioting streets with its crush of people and the police's brutal

beating and harsher bullets. Her Jamie was there where she always

said she would go. Camilla’s knees hit the soft rug. She may have

screamed.

Jamie’s twinkling laugh echoed through the empty house. Well,

empty except for Camilla. They had been dancing along to the radio.

Sunlight glinting off Jamie's dark hair, kissing her brown skin. A fierce

protectiveness rose in Camilla. Her sister was so beautiful, so

delicate. Camilla had to defend her.

Noticing her expression Jamie laughed again, waggling her brows.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Like what?”

“Like I am some weak flower and you have to protect me. So

burdened by your obligations, arent you?”

“As if! Who’d wanna protect you? I have better things to do,

anyway.”Her words held no real bite though.

Jamie’s answering smile was quick. However, before she could say

anything a sharp sound pierced the air. They both jumped.

Jamie grinned. “Oh, Camilla, it's just the riots. Dont be scared.”

Camilla whipped around indignation on her face. But looking at

Jamie’s expression, she stopped. “You…. you aren't thinking of going

there, are you?”

“Don't be absurd, Camilla! Of course, I am not!”

Yet the wistful expression remained.

Looking back, Camilla should've known. Maybe a little part of

her did. Known that her stubborn, passionate sister would go out

there. Gone out there to die a martyr. After all, she had always

dreamed of going out with a bang. Imprinted on people's memories

even after the fall.

Now, seeing the lonely house, filled with the ghosts of her

laugh and smiles, Camilla refused to believe it. Yes, she would come

back and Camilla would scold her but then they'd eat her favourite

food and everything would be forgiven. Jamie would promise never

to go out again. Yes, that is what will happen. Then, first Camilla has

to prepare for her return.

Wiping the hot tears that had escaped unbidden, she salvaged

her groceries from the floor. Bustling into the kitchen, she made

everything she could think Jamie would like. Laying it on the table,

she sat down. Hands on her lap, her face calm. Camilla didn't touch

the food. She wouldn't until Jamie came. They always ate together.

Hours passed. She had to store the food in the fridge. Then

days went by. She threw away the food and made another feast. Her

stomach growled but she refused to eat. They had always eaten

together. She sat at the table again. Her face always calm, her mind

always blank. Her movements became automatic, second nature to

her. Even when the shots reached her ears, her face never cracked,

her hands never trembled. She had decided long ago that she would

wait.

Soon the groceries ran out. She got up, intending to buy more.

However, before she could open the door, a heavy knock resounded.

The door flew open. And there stood Jamie, smiling as always. But

something was terribly wrong….her chest was drenched in red, the

bottom of her face painted with it. It looked like paint but it wasn't. It

wasnt….paint. At last, Camilla’s facade cracked as Jamie fell forward,

sighing. “Oh, Camilla.”

Camilla caught her, falling to the ground with Jamie in her lap. Her

lips trembled. She blinked her eyes trying to not let the tears flow

but to no avail. Jamie laughed, wincing, blood dribbling down her

lips.

“Oh, Camilla. Don't cry, please. You are making me laugh.”

Camilla's tears flowed harder. Her hands fluttered over Jamie's chest.

As if she could close the wound, piece her sister back together.

“Jamie, Jamie, why? Why, Jamie? Tell me why?!”

Jamie's eyes softened, the light in them dying a little. “I did it,

Camilla. I did it! Didn't I tell you I would?”

Jamie laughed uproariously, a cough wracking her in the process. “I

told you not to cry, Camilla.”

Her eyes fluttered close.

“Jamie!”

She didn't reply.

She didn't laugh.

She didn't smile.

Her eyes didn't glimmer again.

Camilla's hands stilled. The tears stopped flowing. A shaking

laugh bubbled out. “You really did it, Jamie. You really did.” She

kissed her forehead, defeated.

Why did you do it?

By Siya Agarwal