Storms 01 - Family Storms

window.
    Out there was always a desert, a jungle, a rocky cliff to climb. We were always safer inside, even inside a dingy hotel room.
    Looking up at Kiera March, I especially didn’t feel a bit safer in that castle of a house with its walls and security. She was beautiful, but she was bad.
    She smirked and shook her head. “I bet you’re really enjoying yourself immersed in all this,” she said, lifting her hands. “This suite’s actually a little bigger than mine. Where were you sleeping before the accident, in a carton?”
    “Yes,” I said. “We were. On the beach.”
    She dissolved her smirk, widened her eyes, and lost her arrogance for a moment. But it soon came rushing back into her face. “Well, I don’t care. It was your and your mother’s fault. No one crosses that highway there. That’s why there’s no crosswalk.”
    “The light was green for us,” I said.
    “So what? It was still stupid. It was raining too hard to see anything. Anyone would have hit you two. I was just the unfortunate one to be there at the wrong time.”
    “Weren’t you on some drugs?”
    “Who says? My mother? No one proved that.” She smiled. “My attorney is confident. He’ll make things right.”
    “He can’t make things right.”
    “Oh, yeah, why not, smart-ass?”
    “He can’t bring back my mother,” I said.
    Her lips trembled. “You know what? Go to hell.” She turned and marched out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
    “I’m already there!” I shouted. “That’s how come you’re here!”
    I waited, but she didn’t return.
    That silence I was beginning to hate was the only thing that returned.

11
Kiera
    M rs. March came into my room before anyone else arrived in the morning. I wasn’t even out of bed. She was visibly upset.
    “Was Kiera in here last night?” she asked.
    “Yes.”
    “I thought so. I heard her complaining to her father. Did she say terrible things to you? What did she say?”
    “She said you were punishing her by having me live here.”
    Mrs. March nodded. “She’s right about that. Not that I want you to feel bad,” she added quickly. “But I don’t want her to forget and ignore what a terrible thing she has done. Don’t worry. She won’t bother you or do you any harm. I’m so sorry. She snuck in here without my permission. I’m going to tell her father to speak with her.”
    “Maybe I shouldn’t be here,” I said. “Maybe it’s only causing more trouble.”
    “Oh, no, no, no. Don’t you ever, ever, ever let that girlmake you feel bad or think such a thing. Of course you should be here. If you left, you’d only be making her feel good about what she did. You’re doing both Donald and me a favor by being here. Sometimes I think that girl has no conscience whatsoever. I look at her and wonder how I gave birth to her. Alena was so different. No, don’t you think about leaving. Dr. Milan will be here in a few hours. Let’s just think about that for now, okay?”
    “Okay.”
    “Good. Do you want any help getting up and dressed?”
    “I can do it.”
    “I’ll go see about your breakfast and talk to Donald about Kiera before he leaves the house. I’m so sorry.” She hurried out.
    I rose and went to the closet to choose something to wear. I wondered how anyone could decide with all of these choices. How important had this been to Alena? I didn’t want to keep thinking about being in her room, using her things, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but be curious about her. Was she spoiled, too? Did she get along with Kiera? How could anyone? What did she think when she realized how sick she was, or did they keep the seriousness of her illness a secret from her until she was near the end of her life? Secrets were very comfortable living here. It seemed only natural for the Marches to lie to one another.
    And yet, I thought, surely she must have felt very sick and knew because of all the things she couldn’t do any longer that she was in danger of dying. Even a doctor like Dr. Milan couldn’t keep the truth from peeking out of his eyes.
    I realized, however, that death is not something someone so young thinks about very often and probably not until he or she hears about a relative or a friend dying. I didn’t, not even when life was so difficult for Mama and me. Somehow I always thought we’d get through it. Something would happen to change things and make us healthy and whole again. Even when I saw her get hit just before me on the