Lips Red As Blood

20 |

"... there have been frequent reports of similar attacks that have been in major cities, such as Paris, San Francisco, Taipei, and much more." The television news hums in the background. "We don't know if these attacks are connected, but luckily, no civilians have been hurt..." 

Cora's eyes are glued to the TV, taking in the devastating scene of modern cities with tendrils of smoke rising from them, yet what has her focus is trying to hear what the two males are talking about. 

They're in the bathroom together, door closed, but Cora can occasionally hear Asher's voice rising.  

What's taking them so long? Cora wonders, impatiently tapping her nails against the plastic armrest. Her gaze wanders to the side, where faint numbers blur in and out, from the wall: it's eleven-thirty p.m., almost midnight, and Cora can feel exhaustion sink through her blood. 

Asher and Kai have been in the bathroom for more than twenty minutes. You'd think they decided to whip out sleeping bags, started gossiping about who likes whom, and complain about life. 

Cora's eyes start to close, tiredness ripping into her body. Her consciousness fades in and out, darkness covering her vision. Finally, Cora gives in, falling into another world of glittering dreams and worry-free emotions. 

There are only five people who Cora truly ever loved: a dead fish, sister who's in Hell, mother who's barely keeping it together, her ex-boyfriend, and herself. 

Cora could never protect those she loved. No matter how hard she tries, the people she loves always get hurt. 

In Cora's dream, she's in a gorgeous restaurant, all dim lights and chandeliers — yet the situation is far from pleasant.  

Harper, from six years ago, looks up. She swallows, weariness in her eyes. "Mom?" Harper's voice is quiet, barely hearable over the customers in the restaurant. 

Cora takes a bite of her cheesecake, giving her sister an encouraging nod. Now or never, her nod seems to say. You got this. 

She really did believe that everything would be fine. Sure, her mother would get furious that Harper didn't get into the colleges Irene hoped for, but it would blow over in a few days. 

"Yes?" Irene is busy digging through a tiramisu, a fork poised near her lips. "Harper, why do you look so... unenthusiastic? You should be happy now that all those tests are finished and that you got your test results. You know, if you're worried about which college to choose, don't be. Your darling mother will help you—" 

"I didn't get into the colleges you wanted me to get into." 

The words escape Harper so fast, it's barely comprehendible. 

But even though the words come out blurred, Irene flinches like she's been slapped. "What did you say?" 

Harper doesn't need to repeat her words, because Irene is already continuing. "How in the world did you not get into any colleges?" Irene's glare is cold and the look slices through the air like broken shards. "Harper. Answer me, right now." 

Her sister looks down. "I did get into colleges," she mumbles. "It's just not the ones you wanted." 

Irene slams her hand onto the dining table, catching the attention of people around them. "That's the same thing!" Irene snaps, cheeks flaring red. Their mother is a mix of disbelief and profound anger, as she stands up, knocking her chair to the ground. There's no reasoning with her anymore, not when she stopped caring how she looked in public. "You're absolutely worthless. You couldn't get into the colleges—"