Your heart pounds as your older sister's car parks in front of you.
You make eye contact with her through the window. You know that you have to get in. If you stall for too long, she'll know that something's up. Without a moment to spare, you open the passenger side door and climb in nonchalantly like it's any other day.
The cause of your anxiety is in your backpack. A test that you totally bombed.
Ordinarily, the idea of telling their guardian about a failed test would already be enough to create a pit in the stomachs of most high school students. But you have a special case on your hands.
This test, in particular, was one that your older sister had warned you about. You were falling behind in Geometry when you couldn't afford to. For whatever reason, the concepts just weren't sticking with you. You were never one to struggle with math on most days, but Geometry was where you completely hit a brick wall.
Seeing no other choice, she gave you an ultimatum. You remember her words as clear as day. She grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward herself until your faces nearly touched. In a furious but self-collected manner, she said,
"If you can't pass this upcoming test, I'm going to slam your face into the kitchen counter until I see your nose bleeding."
You're confident that if most people had heard their big sister say something like that, they would have simply nodded, taken the threat as hyperbole, and moved on with their lives. They might have even laughed a bit at the ridiculousness of the statement. Not you. You knew better.
Ever since your mother passed and your older sister had gotten custody of you, she had made it very clear that she didn't do 'empty threats'. Once, when you were younger, in a fit of frustration, she told you that if the dishes weren't done by the end of the day, she was going to lock you out of the apartment for the night.
That night, she literally dragged you out of bed and threw you out into the hall of the apartment complex. It took a few hours of banging on the door, but you eventually got her to cave and let you back in. You were so distraught that there was no way you were going back to sleep, so you washed, dried, and put away the dishes in the middle of the night, tear streaks still on your face. She hugged you and apologized the next day, but the message had been clear. Even though she eventually let you back in, you still didn't ever want to test her like that again.
That's the sister you're sitting next to in the car right now, failed Geometry test in backpack.
You know what she threatened to do. You know that today is the day of the test that she spoke of, and you know that she knows. But somehow, some small, pathetic part of your brain dares to hope. Against all reason, you hope that she won't bring it up. Maybe she'll forget. She won't forgive, so forgetfulness is your only hope.
She's just checking her phone for now. She hasn't even looked your way. Neither of you has greeted the other yet.
A contradictory set of emotions start to rise in your chest as the silence stretches on. Impending doom because you know that it's only a matter of time. And a sliver of hope because maybe she actually did forget?
But soon enough, the feeling of doom crashes down on top of you like a tidal wave as the words leave her lips. "Did you pass?"
She looks at you a few seconds after asking when you don't answer immediately. You consider lying. You consider running away. You consider calling the police. Anything to get you out of this.
But as scared as you are right now, it's nothing compared to the terror of the unknown. In your mind, escape is unthinkable. You have no one to escape to. At least your sister tells you what's going to happen to you when you do something wrong.
You know that the answer has to come out eventually, but you don't want to speak it out loud. It would feel like signing your own death warrant. So you merely shake your head instead, staring out the window rather than at her.
A sigh leaves her nostrils. You can hear her resting her cheek on her palm. "Let me see."
You remove your backpack and zip it open slowly, as if your sluggish movements will somehow convince her otherwise. You place the sheet of paper in her outstretched hand.
She looks it over for longer than you think is necessary. When she speaks again, her voice doesn't sound angry, just inquisitive. "What happened here?"
It's the hint of concern you can hear that you hate the most. Like she has any right to be worried about you.
You consider what to say. What else can you say, really? You just didn't understand, and the teacher wasn't much help either.
You shake your head softly, trying to steady your voice as you open your mouth for the first time. "I don't know..." You do know that if you try to explain yourself any further, you're going to hyperventilate. You really don't want to break down crying in her car.
She takes the hint and doesn't pry further, gently placing the test on your lap. You don't know how she can be so understanding most times, and still be so cruel when it comes to disciplining you. She doesn't make any sense.
The car starts, and you two make your way back. Not a word is spoken for the entire drive home.
Your doom feels closer than ever as your sister pulls up to the apartment building. She turns off the ignition and removes her seatbelt, opening the driver's side door. Her movements are unbearably mundane, like she's not about to beat her little sister as soon as she gets inside.
She waits for you on the sidewalk, looking at you through the windshield. The patience on her face gives you the sense that she could wait for an eternity if she has to. This is happening.
You manage to convince yourself that the suspense is going to be worse than the punishment, and you get out of the car.
You follow her inside. Then you follow her up the stairs toward your shared apartment. Every step you take, your feet become heavier and heavier. Your sister has to look over her shoulder multiple times just to make sure you're still behind her.
When you reach the door, time stops. Just for a moment. Just enough for you to notice the sudden shift. You are now more aware than ever of your surroundings. The stairs are right there. There's nothing physically stopping you from leaving. It feels as though the universe is reaching out to you one last time, asking if you really want to go through with this.
The jingling of your sister's keys breaks the trance. She unlocks the door, and it opens like the mouth of a trap, waiting to ensnare you.
Your sister's body is still blocking the doorway as she turns to you. She holds out her hand. "Give me your arm."
You take an involuntary step back. Your arms both go behind your back, staying out of her reach. "Why?"
"To make sure you don't run to your room as soon as you get inside." She sounds so reasonable as she speaks. For a moment, you almost give in without thinking.
You try to think up a retort. A reason not to let her grab you. You don't even think that you would take the chance to run, but not having the option feels so much worse.
You hold your own wrist to your chest in a defensive gesture as you consider your choices. Your sister decides to help you out by making it clear what the alternative is. "Fine. I'll just lock you out here tonight."
You don't know if she actually means it this time, but the risk doesn't seem worth it. Reasoning to yourself that the former punishment will be much shorter than the latter, you begin to extend your arm out to her.
She grabs your wrist firmly, but is clearly making an effort not to hurt you. Not yet. She walks into the apartment, dragging you behind her like a disobedient puppy on a leash.
She closes the door, and the click of the lock seems to echo throughout the room. Your sister kicks her shoes off, and then stares down at you until you do the same.
Another, nearly imperceptible, sigh comes out of her nostrils as her shoulders drop a bit. Your sister seems reluctant to do this, but she drags you over to the kitchen all the same.
It's when your feet hit the kitchen tiles that your brain catches up. You try yanking your arm away from your sister's grip. "Wait-"
Your other arm grabs at the doorwar to the kitchen, using it as leverage to keep your sister from pulling you in further. "Please!"
As soon as your sister realizes that you're fighting back, she gives you a look that you never want to see again.
It's not anger, not annoyance. It's definitely not indifference.
She looks hurt. The look in her eyes says that she was really hoping you wouldn't resist. It doesn't deter her.
"You know that I have to."
"No, you don't! I'll do better! I'll try harder! Please!"
She pinches the bridge of her nose, looking down at her feet. "If I don't follow through now, then it'll give you hope that I might not follow through in the future. How are you supposed to learn your lesson if you think there's a chance that you can get off scot-free?"
"I'll remember, I promise!" The words become harder to form as you taste the tears begin to run down your throat. "Just this once! I'll believe you every other time! Just, please let me go! And I'll learn my lesson!"
You've given up on trying to pull away from her. You're not going anywhere without her permission. Your only hope is to talk her out of this.
She just stares at you. You have no more words for her. You think that she's going to give another rebuttal. You think that she's going to give up. You think that she's going to continue dragging you forward against your will. You think that a million things are going to happen, all except for what she actually does.
Literal minutes pass by. You try to pull your wrist out of her grip, she pulls back with just enough force to keep you exactly where you are. You ask her what she's doing, she doesn't say a word. You try to think of another argument to voice, you come up with nothing. She is silent the whole time.
Your thoughts race wildly, all coming to the same conclusion. As you reach more and more dead ends in your head, the thoughts slow down. You know what she's doing. Your physical and mental energy has to run out some time, and she knows it.
She plans to leave you alone with your thoughts until you realize, on your own, that you won't get out of this.
The fight seeps out of you naturally. The hand that grips the doorway falls back down to your side. Your big sister gives a gentle, experimental tug on your wrist, you take a step forward.
She pulls you until you're placed exactly where she needs you. Your eyes linger on the countertop, almost reaching your chest in height. It's clean enough that you can almost see your face in it, so at least it's not dirty.
Your big sister uses her free hand to open the freezer, pulling out an ice pack and placing it on the counter, just off to the side from where you're standing.
She stands on the other side of you, blocking your path out of the kitchen, then releases her grip on your arm. You consider it, but you don't make an attempt to run as her hands are placed on your shoulders, adjusting you to make sure you're situated close enough to the counter.
Her hand goes to the back of your head, her nails digging slightly into your scalp as she firmly grips your hair. "Are you ready?"
(Siscon content in the next part, I promise)
