Zoe
I wiped that stupid smile off my face the second I exited that door. I felt the overwhelming urge to gurgle a liter of bleach.

That had to be the single worst moment of my life. Lying through my teeth left sugar on my gums.

I began the lonely walk home, the mid March skies beginning to darken above me. It didn't take long for the sun to set, and the evening dusk to settle.

The further I moved away from the bustling streets of Main Street, the louder the chirps of the linnets in the fields became.

I looked up at the pinky red skies as I strolled, panic settling in my gut as my surroundings darkened. Something about the dark always scared me, ever since Melanie was attacked, somewhere along this dark and rural path.

At the unnerving and possibly imaginary sound of footsteps behind me, I began to quicken my pace. Faster and faster my legs moved, until I was sprinting the rest of the way home.

My body was heaving the time I reached my driveway. I didn't hesitate for a second to catch my breath. I ran up to the front door and knocked. No response.

I tried to resist the panic sinking into my system. I continued to hyperventilate until I found the energy to knock again, harder.

Ten seconds later, I was hammering on the door with my fists, begging with tears running riot down my cheeks.

The unsettling ringing in my ears began quietly at first, and became louder with each pound of my fist.

I didn't expect the crying to start this early. Usually I'm in a hysterical mess before the tears begin to flow. Staying out at night brought the hysterics twice as fast.

My knuckles trembled as I took a deep breath, closing my irritated eyes. My body wasn't used to this much crying. Twice in the space of an hour could be considered a new record for me.

My stomach began to churn. The little sip of cow milk mixed with my protein shake from this morning inside my gut. The pain wrenched my torso. Sights of Melanie's lifeless almost corpse on the sidewalk flew through my mind.

My head replaced Melanie's face with mine, my big sister's Italian face mixed with my mother's Hungarian roots. Everybody always got me mixed up with Melanie. Now...

The pressing on my heart became too much. I sunk to the ground, my fist still lingering on the wooden door panels. The confinement crippled my entire body. I could've been in an invisible box from head to toe, but I wouldn't have tested my limits.

Short quick breaths escaped my lips. I curled up into a ball, cradling my knees with my arms. Every inch of me was stone cold. My muscles ached from spasming. My lungs exhausted from heaving too hard. My knees weak from supporting the weight of my tense body.

I screwed my eyes shut, preferring my own darkness to the real thing. In my superficial darkness, I could pretend to be lying in my bed, tucked up and warm. Beneath my eyelids, Melanie could be holding me, protecting me from the monsters under my bed.

The real darkness held too many questions and too little answers. In my eyes, there were monsters out there. Monsters that were scary enough to attack my sister and leave her for dead.
Monsters with smiles and laughter of silk, with hands and legs and shiny teeth.

If Melanie was here, she'd tell me to stop being ridiculous. No she wouldn't. Melanie would laugh gently and pull me into one of her bear hugs, rubbing my hair to soothe me.

She wouldn't call mom and dad. Because she knew I'd be embarrassed.

Another nightmare? My mother would sigh.

Again? My father would groan, rubbing his fingers through his stubbly beard.

But Melanie was different. She understood me. Better than anyone else. I wonder would she recognize me now, with my fake eyelashes and high heels.

No doubt she would. She'd get it, Melanie would. She'd understand my reasons for dressing like this, acting like this. Survival.

But Melanie would also laugh and tell me that I'm not an animal. Survival should be the last thing on my mind. College first. Then my dreams.

Everybody always thought me and Melanie were alike. But looking at us beneath our olive skin and curly dark hair, we couldn't have been any more different.

I released another sob, this time muffling it with my hand. I missed Melanie. Her jokes. Her laughter. Her crooked smile. Her big Italian nose. Her perfume. Her hair. Her.

I buried my head in my hands, ignoring the sticky saliva on my palms. My hair was no doubt covered in it.

I probably looked like one of those zombies from the Walking Dead. The thought nearly brought a smile to my face.

Melanie introduced me to the Walking Dead, back when I was ten years old. I snuggled into her big arms when the scary bits came on the TV. I trembled with her hand covering my eyes when I heard the growls of the zombies.

Afterwards, when watching the Walking Dead, I always tried to recreate that safety. I put my hand over my eyes exactly like Melanie used to, her hands not touching my skin but her pinky skimming my nose. It never felt the same.

I tried recreating it now, my hand incapable of staying still. I placed my hand directly in front of my face, my pinky touching my nose. It felt the closest it ever did to her, in my mental agony.

I felt closer to her. Closer to her soul. Nearer to my sister than I'd ever be standing beside her in that vegetable state. Watching that bleeping machine tell me her heart was still beeping, not with love but with the life support. I still hadn't been to see her in hospital. I couldn't bear to see her like that.

My tears began to dry up. My snuffling eventually ceased and my stiff body relaxed. I had that weird sensation of not knowing what quite to do after an anxiety attack. Usually I just moved on with my day, or went back to sleep. I couldn't exactly do that, with the front door locked and Anya wasn't  home.

I kept my hand over my face, until I heard the revving of a car engine approaching. Only one car would ever sound this loud in my ears, as our house stood at the end of a cul-de-sac.

Relief flooded through my body when my Anya's familiar voice cried out. "Zoe?! Oh darling, what are you doing on the ground?"

I peeled my hand away from my eyes, forcing a wide smile onto my lips. My eyes stung from the salty tears.

"Come on, kedves. Let's go inside."

I followed my Anya inside, trying to clean up my face as I moved. She ushered me into the kitchen, before sitting me down at the table.

"Kedves, what happened?" Anya asked, stroking my cheek with her warm hands. I trapped her hand between my cheek and my shoulder, savoring her reassuring touch.

"I miss her, Anya. I want Melanie back."

Anya's face fell. Her hand withered back from my cheek to her side. "I went to see her today. The doctors have noticed an improvement."

I nodded, hanging my head and keeping my mouth shut. Anya only said positive things about Melanie's condition. Because Mel would want it that way, according to her.

"You should really go and see her, Zoe. It's been six months-"

"Yes I know it has been a whole six months since I last saw my sister. I feel every day that goes by and I don't see her. I feel it, ok? But I don't want to have my memories of my sister changed. From her vibrant self to... to a vegetable."

I didn't want to look at my mother. After building up a wall of hope and dreams for Melanie's recovery, I felt like I had knocked it all down in that quick ten seconds.

"Anya... Mom. I-I didn't mean to. I-"

Anya held up her hand to stop me. Her entire arm was quivering. "No, kedves. You're right. I miss her so much. I just can't live without hope. She'll turn into a vegetable the day I give up. I can't, kedves. I can't."

I reached across the kitchen table and have Anya the biggest hug I could. The closest thing to one of Melanie's bear hugs.

She sighed into my shoulder, imagining my shoulders were broader and less bony, and my skin smelled like Melanie's perfume. Maybe she wished it was me on that hospital bed, and not Melanie. I couldn't blame her. Melanie was the world.

"Anya..." I whispered into her hair. "I want to go see her. First thing Monday morning. With you."

Anya nodded into my shoulder. Then she sat up and stared into my eyes. Both hands raised to caress my cheeks. "She'd love that, kedves. She really misses you."

I smiled, placing my hands over hers and entwining our fingers. "It'll be good for all of us, Anya."

I said goodnight and started to trudge up the stairs, each step repeating a prayer to get me through this. All of this.