I AM HERE TO KILL YOU by Chris Westlake

Author:Chris Westlake [Westlake, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-30T16:00:00+00:00

Seven months later

Thursday 6th June 2019

Katherine

The troubled, choppy waters of winter are a distant memory. Now it feels like the tantrum has passed; the river lies quiet and exhausted. Only, I was always told to worry when it was quiet. Why was the world silenced? Was it the quiet before the storm?

Winter has gone. Spring is passing. Summer awaits us.

Pressing my hands down flat, I'm aware of the dryness of the grass. Just months ago, my hands sunk into the dark, sodden mud. My shoes lie abandoned next to my outstretched legs, just metres from the river bank. I wouldn't have done that so long ago, either; who doesn't deplore soggy socks? I consider protecting my face from the sun; don't get carried away, Kat. The breeze cools my face like a fan in a doctor's waiting room. Inevitably, my mind wanders. My memories appear from behind the rock.

My gaze is instinctively drawn to a spot in the water, a circle, maybe two metres wide. That's where it happened. All those years ago. That's why the villagers pity me, the reason they understand my dour demeanour, why they allow my gloominess. You'd be sad if both your parents drowned, years after your older brother was brutally murdered, wouldn't you?

I can pinpoint when everything changed. Ben must have been sixteen, because he was hiding away in his room studying for his O Levels. We assumed he'd pass the exams with flying colours, move on to A Levels before heading off to university. Hooray! I didn't share everybody's excitement. I missed my big brother. His room was my room; I floated between the two. As we moved to Easter and the examinations loomed, however, the colour faded from his sun-deprived cheeks and he demanded we knock at his door before entering. At first I thought he was joking. Okay, Big Brother, that rule can apply to Mum and Dad, but surely it doesn't apply to your little sister? But it did. He was pushing me away, too.

I knocked on his bedroom door one Saturday morning.

"Who is it?"

"Kitty Kat."

"Come in."

The stale air instantly dried my skin. Ben sat on his bed, a text book lying on his lap with his legs outstretched. Perfect rings circled his eyes. When was the last time he had a shower? He pulled at the bed sheet as I perched on the edge of his bed. This no longer felt like our bedroom. He was protective of his territory.

"What's up?" I asked.

"The same old. Studying."

"Why don't you get a break? We could go for a walk. Head into town. Buy some cassettes."

"Maybe later. Just want to get this finished first."

My brother no longer felt so big, he no longer looked so handsome. He appeared shrunken and dishevelled. I wasn't sure if I'd feel proud or embarrassed walking the streets with him now. My heart dropped. Running out of options, I reached out and tickled him under the armpits. This was our thing. Squirming, he kicked out with his legs.

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