Hide And Go Seek

Two

  

         Two

    “So what are you going to do exactly?” Janine says around a mouthful of coco-pops.

   “I’m going to save her,” I say as nonchalantly as possible.

   Small chubby hands play with the creases of my trousers. I look under the table and find myself face to face with beautiful blue eyes.

   “Hey handsome,” I smile at Janine’s three year old little boy, Adam.

   “Hiya!” He cries before continuing to play with the creases.

   “He still does that?” I ask her.

   “It’s just an old habit – I think it brings him comfort or something. I’m not sure.” She shrugs.

    “Anyway, mum told me about a cure for the poison. It’ll take a little bit of work, but I should be able to do it without too much trouble,” I shake my head.

   She looks at me, gives me this look and I stare down at the table, taking a sudden interest in each and every scratch and groove.

   “Would you mind telling me what this involves exactly?”

   Now it’s Janine’s turn to be big sister again. It doesn’t matter how old I am. I could be thirty and whenever she’s near it’s like I’m sixteen again. But I’m not sixteen anymore. I refuse to be treated like a child.

   “It involves nothing that I can’t handle,” I growl, my eyes meeting hers.

   “If you need mine or Tommy’s help, you shouldn’t be... embarrassed to admit it,” she holds eye contact, refusing to drop it.

   “I don’t need any help! I can manage fine by myself thank you very much!” I feel myself flush.

   “I think someone just wants all theglory to herself,” she tuts loudly.

   “Glory?” I snap. “You think that’s what this is about?”

   She doesn’t respond, instead just shovels more coco-pops into her mouth.

   “This is about our dying mother being in hospital and needing serious help! You have a husband and a child. Fair enough. But I still have my own life – and I dropped everything to come down here and pick up all the pieces! I can handle this perfectly fine!”

   I jerk back out of my chair, ignoring Adam’s muted protests.

   “I’ll be in my room if you need anything!”

   “What about breakfast?” She calls after me.

   “I’m not hungry,” I shout back, storming from the room.

   I find myself feeling relieved when I come across mum’s ‘gym’. Ever since we were children, she’s pushed us to train, to become a better Seeker.

   Punch, kick, punch, kick – it’s all about control, striking the most sensitive areas – knowing when and how to attack.

   I move around the punching bag. It’s old and battered and it brings childhood memories with it.

 

   “Left – right! Don’t just pretend it’s a Demon, it is a Demon. It’s not a punching bag; if you don’t strike it down... it’ll kill the next chance it gets!”

   I punch, kick – everything I can do, trying to impress her, to show her how well I can fight.

   “No, no, no!” She snaps, swiping a hand between me and the punching bag. “You’re all force – always all force – you need to think about what you’re doing, you can’t just fire off several attacks and hope for the best!”

   I can feel my chin tilting defiantly, my hands fisting as I struggle to control my anger. There’s a sudden glint in mum’s eyes and she smiles, a nasty little smile.

   “What, you want to fight me?”

   I don’t respond – I can barely see past the red haze that surrounds me, makes it difficult to breathe.

   She takes up a fighting stance and gestures for me to come forward. I pause – but it’s not a hesitation, I’m preparing my body for a fight, a real fight.

   I leap forward, my leg already raised to kick – only she catches it, twists my body round. I land on my other foot, spin ad kick, dragging my arm out of her grip.

   She dodges out of the way, light on her feet, moving with such grace that it just makes me angrier.

   I crouch down and do a three sixty-spin, my leg out in an attempt to trip her, but she just jumps over it and kicks me in the face –hard.

   I fly backward and before I can jump to my feet, she’s on me, foot rammed into my throat, keeping me down.

   She grins down at me, her eyes glinting with victory, a smugness that makes me sick to the core.

   “I win. Again,” she says sweetly, not even breathless.

 

   I kick the punching bag. The hook that holds it up snaps and it flies across the room. I stand breathless, my eyes still clouded by red. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a movement – but when I look, all I see is the back of Janine’s head as she walks away.