Two - Amina

Two - Amina

He’s really gone. Dad. Even if he wasn’t my biological father, he was my dad. David is a great brother. No matter how many times I push his buttons, he’s there for me. When I wake up, I’m in my old room. Taking a deep breath, I get out of bed and throw on my boots. Sure, my parents might’ve abandoned me, but my grandparents still love me. A text pops onto my phone screen from fourteen hours ago.

Still coming on the 31st?

Yeah! Sorry it took so long, I fell asleep early!

Charlie is a kind soul. My mom’s dad. I’m planning on visiting them at the end of the month. I haven’t told David yet. He might be supportive or fuming. It’s a hit-or-miss type deal with him. David’s pouring coffee when I get into the kitchen. He nods his head at me. I don’t drink coffee. He grabs his keys and heads outside with me. We get into the truck and begin the thirty-minute drive to my apartment.

David told me multiple times how much he hates my living situation. It’s a great apartment, not so much the neighborhood. Each time I let him know I’m safe. Like normal, he’ll roll his eyes and continue with stating facts about safety. He pulls onto my street and puts the truck in a park across the street from the building. I still locked the door as we sat there in silence.

“I’m going to Slateville around the 30th to visit Charlie, Savannah and Mack. I’ll be gone for a week or two.” I finally say, tapping my shoes together. David nods, unlocking the doors.

“Stay safe, or else.” He grins. I know he tries to hide his smile most of the time, but it’s the fake ones that get me. I love his actual smile and laugh. It’s true and real, unlike a lot of things in his world. I get out of the truck and run to the front doors, punching in the code. When I look back, David’s already gone.

My apartment is cozy. I’ve got a living room, kitchen, two bathrooms and ten million closets. There’s no need for how many there are. I plop onto the couch, throwing my phone and keys onto the table/ I just want to hide away some of these days. When I do, David yells at me. To get away, I’ll go out into the woods for as long as I want. It’s amazing.

Life was the runt. It’s exciting. Always being picked on as a kid toughened me up.

Nowadays, I’m almost as stubborn as David. I remember one time I saw David Not-So-David; I guess. He was with this girl from around town and he seemed totally head-over-heels for her. It bothered me badly. She was messing with him the entire time, but he was so happy. If something like that ever happens to me, which it won’t, I’d just be told that it’s what happens to a dumb runt like me. They wouldn’t be wrong. I’m dumb as hell. People think I give a shit about what they say about me, but whatever they say is true. Every insult, every punch, kick, smack; I deserve it all. I was a shit daughter and I’m an even worse sister. Now imagine that chaos with a partner. I want someone to love, but it’s never going to happen. That’s just life as the runt.

My dad bought most of my furniture. He was excited that I wanted to live on my own for a bit. I am never here, though. I hate how I spend most of my time at David’s house rather than my own. It might be because I hate being alone, but all I want is to be alone right now.

The Shaw pack is one of the most loyal, proud, and recognizable wolf packs in all of Dahlia. David takes great pride in keeping it that way. Now that he’s alpha, maybe he’ll be harder on me than he normally is. For anything, that might be the best. Dad was always super upset whenever I’d skip meals, skip pack meetings, and when I quit all three of my jobs. I never told him why I quit them. Now, it doesn’t really matter.

I pull the blinds and push the windows open. The fresh air makes me smile. Turning off the lights and pulling my hair down just to pull it back up means it’s time to clean. The natural light makes me feel strong. I grab a speaker and place it by the window. The second it turns on, my heart stops. Dad’s song plays. The song we used to scream in his truck together while David tried to hide that he, too, was singing along.

Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus

A smile crosses my face as Dad’s tall figure walks across the room, beginning to sing the song. He’s not really there, but for a second, it feels real. The shit imagination can do to you. He laughs, playing an air guitar. I sing along, standing beside the ghostly vision of my dad. Tears escape from my eyes when the chorus begins, and he rocks his head. Laughing, I join in, dancing when I get too dizzy. I hate my head so much.

I sweep, mod, clean the windows, the table, the counters. I clean anything to get my mind off of everything. There has to be something wrong with me. David called me seven times, and each time I ignored him. It breaks my heart, but if I talk to him, then I’ll start thinking about the last two months. There’s a knock on my door. Turning the music down, I walk over and answer the door.

“Seven. Seven times I’ve called you. Why are you ignoring me?” David asks, brushing past me and into the apartment. He sees the cleaning materials and smells the clorox and quickly lets out a weak ‘oh’. Maybe he knows about my coping skills. To cope, I count things, clean, eat ice cream, watch baby shows, and I lay on the couch. I’ll turn off my phone and just stare at the ceiling like nothing else matters. Because does anything else matter? David sits on the couch and stretches, leaning back. I sit beside him, waiting with a look. I push him.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” He asks.

“Well, you don’t just show up. You only ever visit if you need something or you want me to do something. So, well?” For the first time in months, I talked back to him. He huffs, rolling his eyes and sighing.

“There’s concern about you.” David shrugs, holding his phone close to his chest. I roll my eyes, standing.

“Oh well. Let them be concerned. Not only would it be the first time, but I’m running. Why worry?” I walk to my bedroom and slam the door. Before jumping onto my bed, I listen to David’s footsteps. He shuffles to the door and gently knocks on the door.

“Amina. You’re my sister. I’m concerned about you. You need to understand that I’m here for you. Younger sister or no. Biological sister or not. I love you. Amina, you need to take care of yourself. Can you just do that for me, please? Dad’s gone. I know it’s hard to believe that, but it’s true. We’ve only got each other. I need you to know that I’m here. David Shaw, your brother... I’m here. If you ever forget, I’ll always be around. Always. Even if you get married and have kids, I’m here. Take care of yourself, kid. Call me or text me whenever.” David’s never talked like this before. His footsteps fade and I hear a door shut.

Sliding down the door, my body falls onto the floor. David’s here for me, but I can’t even see him. Each time I look at him or into his eyes, I see Dad. He has his eyes but looks nothing like him. That hurts just as much as seeing his headstone. In a few years, I want to be someone. I don’t want to be ‘The Runt’ anymore. I want someone to call my own so I can lean on them too. Maybe David will have a break.