Marie felt her heartbeat quicken and a sharp, piercing anger rose in her chest. She clenched her fists. The little girl she once was â the girl that Brendan knew how to step over as a child â was shuddering with her unspoken rage, the same fury that threatened to rip her apart as if she were nothing more than a sewn-together ragdoll. Brendan had that power over her, but Marie couldnât stand it any longer; she felt pain as she bit down on her tongue to keep from screaming.
Brendan didnât know a damn thing. He didnât know what it was like to run with their mother, shattering their family into shards of broken glass. He didnât know what it was like to have to trust Thomas and his dirt-smeared face. Brendan was golden; he was confident, smirking and snapping at Marie as if she was still only the petulant child with a pink satin ribbon tied between her white-blonde curls.
Marie was not that girl anymore. She saw the ugliest parts of their family. She saw the dirt where they claimed to be clean. She was furious â furious at Brendan, for abandoning her, and furious at her mother, for making her choose and, most of all, furious at Thomas. Always at Thomas.
âDo you really want to talk bullshit?â Marie snapped suddenly. âDo you think the circus is a joke? Yeah, sure, everyoneâs so happy now, but you donât know what it was like to have to leave everything and stick with mother. You took the easy way out.â Marie spat.
She rose suddenly. She took a couch pillow in her hand and squeezed it. âYou see this? This is yours. This is your fancy little flat you can have all to yourself, and do you know where I call home? Do you?â Marieâs eyes were wide and nearly crazy. âYou donât care, do you? You left me with her!â
âOh here we go again.â Brendan scoffed as his eyes rolled into the back of his head with boredom and anger. Everything was a drama with Marie, she could find anything and twist it to put herself into a position where she could seem like the victim. It happened far too often, and he couldnât stand what she had grown into.
âHappy!? You must be a fucking idiot to think anyone here is happy.â Brendan shook his head easily as he took a step closer to his little sister. He could hate her, he could really hate her guts. The way she was always stealing the attention, her spoilt brat attitude, how she seemed to think the whole world was a show for her. It made him feel sick, she was a privileged little princess who had fallen into the dirt and cried wolf. âBecause our talented Timothy didnât abandon us before anyone else, because our father didnât leave because the bitch you call mommy fucked another man?â Brendan glared down at her.
âIt isnât my fault you had to go with her! I couldnât drag you with me.â Brendan couldnât imagine her going through anything he did. She could never climb like he could, and she could never stand a silence. Brendan huffed dramatically as he turned away from her. âThatâs all this family does, isnât it? We wallow in our own self-pity and push each other away. You arenât with her now are you? Youâre lucky she hasnât followed you here.â Brendan pushed his hands into his face and let out a small growl of anger. âYou can stay here.â He finally muttered.
