Soulless Violet

I

Every Sunday, Pastor Moody would sneak a line from his 'nose candy' that he kept stashed at the church before closing in prayer. He would say, with an overzealous and righteous voice, "In life, we must remind ourselves that what we do on Earth matters. Regardless of whether or not you believe in God... you will pay for your sins."

I know, right? What a teddy bear.

However, in my experience with life, I learned there are far worse things than paying for your sins.

Like, for instance, coming back from the dead and facing them head on.

***

As the door to my bedroom creaked open, I didn't bother to move; exhausted from another night of relentless nightmares. But a giggle—undoubtedly belonging to my little brother, Jack—pulled me out of my somber daze. Quickly, I wiped away the dried tears stained on my cheeks. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me in such a state. I was the older sibling after all.

"Happy birthday!" He shouted. Tackling me as he pounced onto the bed. Still wearing the new superhero pajamas Father had sent a few days ago.

Like that made up for sending his children away when they needed him most.

I put on my best smile, wrapping him in a hug. "Ah! You got me good that time!"

"Really?!" He spoke in awe. Wide brown eyes beaming with innocence. "Better than last time?"

"Better." I said assuringly, nodding down at him.

He grinned. Revealing the baby incisor tooth he was missing. He'd lost it the first night here. Under the influence of a sugar rush, jumping from one couch to the next before face-planting into the hardwood floor. Jack didn't even cry. Too excited about the thought of losing his first tooth.

The clicking of fast-paced heels coming from the hall drew our attention. Miss Florence appeared in the doorway, dressed in her usual attire of a modest skirt and blouse, silverish-black hair pinned perfectly in a sophisticated updo. She held a fluffy white towel neatly in her hands.

"Jack Taylor Shaw, I've told you three times already!" She rushed in; a look of slight frustration on her well-aged face. "Get in the bath, boy!"

Miss Florence had become a live-in housekeeper after her three children left the nest. She was strict, and compassionate, and cared very much about one's hygiene upkeep. Father hired her a few weeks following the purchase of this hideously-expensive prison that I now was forced to call home.

But Miss Florence tried at least... to make it one.

"And I won't have any of your excuses this time," she stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

"But it's Violet's birthday!" He declared anyway. Throwing his arms in the air for effect. "An-and... Mom and Dad would wake us singing the Happy Birthday song."

A knot the size of a softball formed in my throat at the mention of her. I could feel Miss Florence's eyes on me. Like I would shatter at a moment's notice. But I couldn't. Not in front of Jack.

"Well," I sighed, teasingly. "Go on then."

He smiled, leaping off the bed. "Are you ready, Miss Florence?"