had poked her head out into the hall. I was embarrassed to introduce her to my sister and then immediately felt guilty for being ashamed of her. I resisted the urge to offer up some kind of disclaimer.
She never used to look like this. This wasn’t always my sister, this shell of her former self you’re meeting now.
“Yes, we are.” Charlotte smiled and I noticed her teeth were stained. “I’m Charlotte, Patrick’s little sister.”
Mrs. Brooks took one long look at Charlotte from head to toe before returning the smile and introducing herself. I thought I could detect a bit of sadness in that smile. She stepped back to open the door wider, an indication that we should come inside.
Paul’s reaction to Charlotte’s appearance was not unlike my own. It didn’t escape anyone in the apartment that my sister was a drug addict. She claimed to be hungry, yet barely touched the food on the plate Chloe served her. Charlotte would disappear into the bathroom for long periods of time. Once, Brianna came into the living and reported, “I think she’s throwing up. I had to go, but I think I’ll hold it.”
The changes in Charlotte were not just physical. Along with the tangled hair, vacant eyes that looked as if she hadn’t slept in days, bony frame, and disheveled clothes, she was also loud, abrasive, and defensive.
We were seated around the table, having pie and coffee, when Mrs. Brooks asked Charlotte about school. “What are you studying, Charlotte?”
“Are you going to start on me, too?” Charlotte snapped. The other conversations around the table came to an abrupt stop. I’d had enough.
“Will you excuse us, please?” I guided Charlotte to the back of the apartment by her elbow. I pushed her into my bedroom and closed the door.
“What the hell are you on?”
“First of all, don’t grab me like that, and second of all I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m not on anything.”
The audacity was too much to handle. I no longer felt ashamed or scared. The shock of the situation had long since worn off—somewhere between the constant twitching and loud comments. I was pissed.
“Don’t lie to me. Do I look stupid? What are you taking? How long? Did Orbit do this to you?”
“Gee, what question should I answer first?”
“You think this is funny?”
“I think you need to relax. I know what I’m doing. I’m not a junkie or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
She couldn’t even meet my eyes. Instead she looked all around my bedroom as she crossed her arms over her chest. I reached out and grabbed them, extending her arms towards me. I pulled up the arms of the sweater and inspected each arm, starting at the wrists and worked my way up.
“Give me some credit.” She snorted as she snatched her arms away. “I don’t shoot up.”
“Then what do you do?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. Still not able to look me in mine she replied, “I smoke a little something to help me stay awake. It helps me focus.”
“Charlotte—”
“Don’t even start!” She stomped her foot on the floor, hard. “I’m an adult! I can do what I want, when I want, and with anybody I want! It’s not that big of a deal! See, this is why I didn’t want to come ‘cause I knew you’d act like this, like the Little Sister Police and shit.”
“Not that big of a deal? You look like shit! Have you seen yourself lately?”
I grabbed her arm, afraid I’d break it, and steered her towards the dresser mirror. We stood facing it together, but Charlotte refused to look in it.
“Look at yourself! Look! Your skin is horrible, your hair is a mess, your eyes are red, and you smell like garbage. That’s no big deal?”
“Screw you.” She pushed into my chest using both hands and with considerably more strength than I expected. I took two steps back and watched her leave the room. “I have to
Learning to Kill: Stories