A Hidden Picture

Eighteen

~ Annalise, seventh grade, five years ago

My body freezes when I hear the footsteps coming from the hallway.

Mom and dad aren't home. They're with friends. Which means if any introducers are here right now I'm going to die.

I mentally try to prepare for my death but it doesn't work.

Oh my god I'm gonna die.

I'll never be able to ride The Tower of Hell at Disney World.

I'll never be able to go back to my grandparents house in Costa Rica and steal one of their birds to bring back home with me.

I'll never be able to read 1,000,000 books like I had planned.

Suddenly a crash sound interrupts my thoughts along with a string of curses coming from the intruder.

The voice sounds familiar.

Vera.

Hesitantly I step out of bed and slide my slippers on before quietly walking over to the door and gently pulling it open.

When I peak my head out into the narrow hallway I see Vera sitting on the floor, rubbing her head.

Not again. I exhale tiredly before walking over.

She doesn't see me when I bend down and when I start inspecting her head to make sure she didn't cut herself.

"Stop- I said no- you fuckin-" She tries to hit me and I back away.

"Oh...Annalise...hey! What're you doing up?" Her drunken gaze lands on me and she looks up extremely confused.

She looks more out of it every day than she does in it. I'm not sure what the it is. I guess awareness would be the right word.

My shoulders slump and I bend down again to grab onto her arms, trying to haul her upright to her feet.

My noodle arms cannot handle this. I need to start working out or something.

"Nooooo I'm tired," she exasperates.

I don't bother responding when she's like this.

There's no point. It's not like she'll remember.

After some trial and error, I'm finally able to get her standing, letting her lean her weight on me. My arms feel like they're about to give out and snap in half at the same time.

"I'm hungry," she whines.

"I'll make you some food in the morning."

She keeps almost tripping, but I manage to keep her upright.

Just a few more steps. Just a few more steps.

When we reach her door I push it open with my foot and bring her over to bed.

Her room is messy with posters hung all over the walls. Some are of her favorite movies, others are of her celebrity crushes, and some are of music albums. There's clothes scattered on the floor and her blanket is hanging half on the floor and half on the bed which resides in the corner of the room.

She falls onto the mattress and immediately starts snoring.

I'm not sure how long I stand there just looking at her, but it feels like forever.

I thought that the older siblings were supposed to take care of the younger.

Why are you like this? Why can't you just go to bed at night instead of hanging out everyday?