Dominance

Chapter 10: No Boys Or Goldfish Allowed

Eric continued his task in silence and even when Sara moved herself to the open space lounge room, and he followed, Eric blatantly ignored her. Or rather, seemed to be keeping an eye on her, without literally keeping an eye on her. They sat on opposite ends of the shabby stained sofa. Eric pretended to keep his attention on the loading screen of his old portable computer, while Sara stared at the massively girthed box that looked like a television from the 80s. The obnoxious layer of dust that sat on top of it looked like it was from the 80s too. 

Sara was discreetly relieved when the twins returned barely fifteen minutes later, bare-chested and each holding something to cover their top halves along with a pair of well-worn sneakers. She was surprised at how different they looked in denim and with wet hair clinging to their faces.  Norman reappeared shortly after them with his phone pressed to his ear and Sara looked at it with longing. If only she could call her parents. Or Ashlee. Or the police. Or anybody.

Sparkie went to tug a shirt over his head when Norman threw a towel at him. Sparkie caught it partially with his hand, and partially with his face.

"Dry that wet noggin first." He instructed.
Norman picked the television remote off of the heavily scuffed cabinet and placed it on the arm of the couch closest to Sara.
"Keep the volume on low, okay?" He told her.

Sara pouted at the chunky prehistoric remote as Eric and Norman both disappeared into the kitchen again. If they thought daytime television would keep her occupied, they were sadly mistaken. She waved the twins over. Sparkie was happy to skip over and sit next to her on the sofa, but Twister just gave her a blank look from where he stood and continued to rub a mustard-coloured bath towel against his damp hair.

"Come here," Sara whispered to him through gritted teeth as he continued to ignore her existence.

Twister looked annoyed, but sat on the floor, deliberately snubbing her by having his back leaning on the couch and facing away. Sara edged over to close the gap between them. She snatched the balding towel from his grip and proceeded to scuffle dry his hair. Twister flailed at the unexpected noogie assault.

"I need to get home," Sara whispered firmly while she ignored the little tingles at the end of her fingertips which occasionally delicately brushed against Twister's strands of hair.

Neither of the twins said anything. But Twister froze and his back stiffened at her voice. Sara noticed the place on his exposed back where Eric had dug out a piece of flesh was already almost healed over. Only the slightest bit of pink remained. It was in this moment that she remembered her own injuries, but as she peered down her once-tattered and sore hands were miraculously fine. Confusion and exasperation arose but she quickly stuffed those feelings away.

"Why do you trust these guys?!" Sara exclaimed through gritted teeth, hoping her voice was hushed enough to keep Norman and Eric from hearing her.

"I never said I trusted them," Twister snorted. He snatched the towel out of Sara's hands, and she had to compose herself from laughing at the state of his hair.

"They seem okay to me," Sparkie added in an opposite tone.

"Well, whatever. I can barely comprehend what's happening, So I'm out." Sara shrugged back.

"You're really leaving?" Sparkie whimpered.

"Shhh." Sara hushed him. "When I find a good chance. There is no sane reason for me to stay here. I should have taken off ages ago."

"I'm with you there." Twister snorted. "There is no point staying."

"But they said they can take us to our family," Sparkie argued.