My Sister's Keeper -- Halloween Special

Part Three


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James watched the love of his life who was also the strangest girl he ever knew flee down the corridor like she’d been macked by a leper.  Kate and Amy were looking extremely uncomfortable.  “Well, glad to have you here Jim,” Kate told him with a weak grin.

“I’m glad to be here,” he smiled back.

Violet took his arm.  “Let’s go get some punch while Phoebe powders her nose, hm?”

James would have refused, except Violet’s apparently casual grip was like steel and contrary to some people’s beliefs, he was quick on the uptake. “Sure thing.”

“We really need to be going back downstairs anyways,” Amy replied.  “Food should be by any minute.”

The made-up conjoined twins danced their duet downstairs as Violet tugged him into the stuffy, plastic-covered room he’d just popped out of.  He waited until she closed the door and said, “I screwed up, didn’t I?”

Violet shook her head. “No, no you didn’t.  But…oh, fuck it.”  She let out an explosive breath.  “How much has Phoebe told you about her history?”

“A little,” he admitted.  “I know she’s not on good terms with her parents, and I know she has a dead sister.  I’ve inferred that the latter has something to do with the former.”

“First of all, you’re right.  Second of all, they weren’t just sisters; they were maternal twins.”

James blinked.  “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“And how old were they--?”

“Twelve.  Phoebe….didn’t take it well.”

“Well, who the fuck wou-“ James stopped.  Pieces fell into place.  “Her parents had her committed??”

“Yeah.  Phoebe talked aloud to her sister as if nothing had changed.  Her parents weren’t in the best frame of mind to deal with it, so…” she shrugged.  “I’m not passing judgment.  I have no fucking idea how I’d do in a similar situation.  The only thing I can do involves the here and now.”  She moved up to him and put her hands on his shoulders.  “Deborah’s a part of Phoebe’s life, James.  She still talks to her sister in the exact same manner except she’s more careful at concealing it.  The only way I know is through sheer accident.”

Violet stopped talking and stepped back, for which James was glad because it allowed everything to sink in, and for the puzzle that was Phoebe to come into focus.  Violet would not lie about her best friend like that, which meant that Pheobe was crazy according to the technical definition.  After a long time, he looked at Violet again.  “You’ve…you’ve given me something to think about.”

“I know,” she says miserably.  “Both of you want something more from each other and at this point the only thing that’s going to happen is a meltdown – and it’s better if it happens now.  If you decide what I’ve told you matters, that is.”

James felt numb.  “I don’t know.  I need to think about this.”

“Don’t take too long. After she gets done powdering her nose, she’s probably going to be her sweet, loyal attentive self again.”

“I’ll…I’ll be downstairs,” he tells her.  James pushed past Violet and out the door.  There was probably some spiked punch downstairs, and he felt as if he could use some.


#


Violet stood in the corridor and watched James go, unsure if she should follow him or not.  Haven’t you already done enough, her conscience fumed.  She told it to shut up; this had to be done, she could see they way he and Phoebe looked at each other.  Better to risk a breakup now rather than later.

Better for us, certainly.

Violet spun around.  That thought came out of nowhere, so jarring that she knew it had come from someone else.  But of course, there was no one there.  This creepy house must be getting to me, she thought.

That’s when warm hands reached up from behind and slithered upwards, cupping her breasts.  It would be nice if someone got a reaction from you, would it?

Violet shrieked and stumbled forward, but whoever it was – a woman, she could feel breasts pressing into her back – clung to her like a second skin.  She tried to jerk out of the grasp, but all she could do was stumble forward.  “Get off of me!”

Lurid giggle.  Sorry, I can’t do that, Dave.

Violet’s legs locked up; suddenly, she couldn’t force them to move.  “Help!”  She screamed.  “Someone!  Anyone!”

Silly, the other woman chided.  Lips tickled Violet’s ear.  Sound doesn’t travel well in these old houses.  Besides, why would you want to be saved?

“Stop fondling my breasts!”  Violet grabbed at the wrists of the obtrusive hands and forced them away, but with difficulty; whoever this was seemed to be as strong as her.  She glanced down at the hands; the other woman seemed to be wearing a top with no sleeves, since the arms were bare.

Why would I do a foolish thing like that, chided the other woman, hot breath on Violet’s neck. You’ve certainly been craving that someone pay them attention.

“I don’t like women that way, now get off!”  Violet twisted her torso around, trying to wedge her shoulder into the other woman while wrestling with her hands.  My legs, she worried, what’s wrong with my legs?  “I mean it, get off!  And what makes you think you know me, huh?”

I know about the scar on your knee that you got at ten from riding your bike, the woman replied.  Violet froze.  I know about the burn mark on your fanny you got from someone who thought he was funny.  I know that you like feminine features on a guy, and I know you kissed a-

“Who are you?” Violet shrieked.

The hands tore themselves away from Violet’s grasp, cupped her chin, and turned her face around.  The wild-eyed, leering face of a pretty red-head met her unbelieving gaze.  Violet’s leer, Violet’s hair, Violet’s very face.  Who do I look like?

She smiled, and crushed Violet’s mouth to her own before Violet could start screaming.


To Be Continued


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