d7 . mia stewart

Your head rolls, gaze twisting back to the flower clutched in your hands, fingers running over each petal of the flower. Another tug and one comes free, you kick your legs, watching with wide brown eyes as the petal drops from dirty fingers. It twirls, spinning over and over again until it lands in the dirt. You can see it’s yellow glow from where you sit and your eyes trail over the weeds that have begun to creep up and over your sister’s grave.

You don’t miss her.

In fact, you and Reyna had killed her.

For a moment longer, you rest in the space between the weight of your sins and the unbalancing feeling of satisfaction that had come from her death. The times that you regret it far outweigh those few glimpses of achievement. The intention hadn’t been to kill her, it had simply become the unfortunate consequence of the choices the two of you had made.

Your hand runs along the bark, the feeling of splinters digging into flesh as you push down harder. Your gaze shifts upwards, staring into the sea of green and gold, eyes resting for a moment as you soak in the gentle breeze that calls through the graveyard. The sun flickers through the branches, a touch here and there of warmth against your skin. It fills your veins, and you wonder how desperate Daisy was to feel this same kind of warmth.

The snowstorm had come out of nowhere the day you’d tricked her to wander into the woods at the back of your house. After a few hours, you’d waited expectantly for her to return, hoping that he little scare, perhaps even the fear of being out there all alone, would make you feel happy. You wanted her to feel the pain you went through every day, that feeling of helplessness that swallowed you every time your parents looked past you and at her.

Being adopted into this family had not been your choice. By the time you were four and she was six, it was as though you did not belong, a clear line in the dirt between where you could sit, sleep or exist. Reyna felt the same way, the two of you trapped staring at the family that sat on the opposite side of the fence. Daisy was their perfect eldest daughter, the child that did everything right. She was praised for her intelligence and her beauty, she was cuddled at night, mother read her stories and father talk her out to play games.

It hurt, leaving behind wound after wound until you just couldn’t take it anymore.

By four years, the resentment had burned its way so cruelly into your heart that the only solution you and Reyna could think of was to make her disappear. So you had worked together to devise a way of tricking her to go into the woods, fooling her, and forcing her to wander into the parts that were unfamiliar. It had almost felt too easy, getting Reyna to tell her that you were injured and couldn’t get back by yourself. In reality, you had been hiding in your bedroom closet, smiling with a blanket pulled over your head as you heard the front door close, and the sound of her footsteps disappearing.

The elation had finally having achieved your goal hadn’t lasted that long. That feeling had soon burned out, turning into something more hallow and aching as you’d watched your parents grow more and more apprehensive. Unable to piece together why on earth their darling Daisy had done wandering into the woods, they’d assumed someone had kidnapped her.

As the sun began to set and the chill of the evening set in, your parents had grown more frantic.

To your growing annoyance, the plan had completely backfired. The attention you had believed would come your way following Daisy’s disappearance never arrived. Instead, you were stuck, staring at their backs as they moved even further away from you. Forgetting to even feed you, or speak to you as their desperation to find Daisy only grew. You couldn’t stop yourself from drowning that night and the next and every night after that until they eventually found Daisy’s body.

The aching headaches that came from your tears were missed by the blurry eyes of your mother and father. The pain that swallowed your round cheeks and puffy eyes were recognised by Reyna, buried in her shirt as she held you and you both cried.

You let your body fall, hands tightening on the branch as it bites into your skin. Dangling there, your feet knock against the top of her headstone, and you move your toes, tapping against the stone again and again. You wait, remaining there until the ache in your hands spreads to your arms, releasing the branch only once you could not hold any longer. Your feet land with a dull thud, digging into the dirt of her grave, a hand resting against the stone as you steady yourself before straightening.

“Your dead and they still care about you more,” you say, an annoyed frown knitting your brows together. Your fingers dig into stone and you lash out kicking the headstone with a kick. It does not move, it remains, a wall between the love your heart craves and the suffering it instead experiences.

“They love your ghost more than they love me.” There's a coldness to your voice that radiates through the warmth of the evening. You remember the way your parents had sobbed, hands clinging to the frozen form of Daisy's body as they had pleaded with the gods to bring her back. You remember the way your dad had looked back at you, anger burning in his eyes that had scorched your soul. A face that had filled your nightmares from that day since.

"Why couldn't it have been you."

You stare, lost in that pain, before you turn, shoulders hunched as you stuff your hands in your pockets.

"I hate you," she breathed, the words carried by summers kiss.

I can't compete with a ghost.