Remembrance

            The wolves had left the scene of the brawl, but they would be back once they sensed it over; Kajulian wolves weren’t keen on getting between others’ fights. They just did as they were told, as the Sorcerer told them. Shay’s childhood nickname for her echoed inside the depths of her mind, diving into memories she’d thought she’d left behind. Repressed emotions, carrying her deeper into relapse, reversing all she’d worked for.

            “Jez,” he called, “come out, come out, wherever you are. You can’t hide forever, you know.” Jasteirra sucked in a quick breath before Shay wandered over to her hiding spot behind the drapery.  She closed her eyes as if it would keep him from seeing her miniature figure in the fabric. The sharp sound of the curtains being drawn made her flinch away. She opened her eyes and gazed upwards, to find her brother looming over her, his eyebrows arched salaciously. “Found you” His hand sliced through the air, grabbing for her, but she was faster. Jasteirra ducked with lightning speed, slipping under his arm and scurrying away. She jumped onto her feet, racing to the door; in seconds she found her face smothered by her mother’s warm belly. She hugged her, wrapping her short, child’s arms as far around her mother as she could. She turned her head around, to see if her brother, Shay, the monster, was still there. Shay stood by the window, acknowledging the unspoken truce between them. He met her gaze, sending her a sore glare.  That was the biggest rule—and the one that kept Jasteirra out of trouble the most often: never in front of Mother. But it didn’t matter; he would get her back later. He always did.

           She winced; the memory struck her with immeasurable force. There certainly was a reason that some nightmares were repressed. Jasteirra wasn’t that scrawny, weak, little girl any more, though. And after that day, the rules hadn’t mattered any more. Mother had died the very next day, Jasteirra’s one safe haven, snuffed out like a candle. The doctors couldn’t tell their family what’d killed her, but Jasteirra had always suspected, deep down, her own brother. That had been the day that Jasteirra had realized that her only chance of survival lay in toughening up. And that was just what she had done. Her brother hardly ever received the chance to hurt her again. And now, looking at his lifeless remains, Jasteirra smiled. He’ll never be able to hurt me, never again.