Blamed, Framed, and Frozen

I lay on the cold floor, a steady, dull ache pulsing at the back of my skull. Warm blood slid down my neck and pooled beneath me, a dark puddle spreading across the tile.

My father's voice boomed above everything. "Couldn't you be careful for once? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?"

The shout rattled inside my head. My ears rang, and the blood kept coming.

On the sofa, my sister, Stella Somerset, had folded in on herself. She drew her knees to her chest. Her shoulders shook. Both hands clamped over her ears as she shrieked, sharp enough to sting, "She did it on purpose! She wants me dead! Make her go away! Go away!"

My mother knelt in front of her and rubbed her back in slow circles. Her voice turned soft and sing-song. "It's okay, baby. It's okay. Mommy's here. The bad sister went away."

I tried to push myself up. The room tilted hard to the left, then lurched back. Dizziness punched through me, and I collapsed again with my cheek against the floor.

The edges of my vision darkened. Black crept in like smoke and swallowed the corners first.

"Dad, Mom." My voice came out thin, almost nothing.

No one turned.

My sight blurred. The ceiling faded into a pale smear. Somewhere beyond it, old memories surfaced, as if they had waited for the moment I finally stopped fighting them.

I saw myself running home with a certificate clutched in both hands. I had earned first place in my grade. My heart had felt too big for my chest.

"Mom, I got…" I shoved the door open, breathless. The words spilled out.

Before I could finish, she snatched the certificate from my hands and shoved it into a drawer as if it were contraband.

"Rainie," she whispered, panic in her voice. "Don't let your sister see it."

She lowered her voice even further. "You know how this goes. If you do well, it will set her off."

I stood in the doorway with my arms still half-extended, as if my body had not received the message. My smile froze.

"But Mom, it's the first time I ever got first place," I said. My voice shook. "The teacher said I could apply for early admission…"

"You're the most sensible one," she said as she smoothed my hair. Her eyes held apology, the kind that always asked me to swallow my feelings so she would not have to. "Your sister's illness needs all of us. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?"

I nodded and went back to my room. I forced down the lump in my throat and swallowed every bit of unfairness whole.

Back on the floor, the puddle of blood had widened. It crept under my shoulder, sticky and warm. My breathing turned fast and shallow, and I could not draw enough air into my lungs.

White flashes sparked across my vision.

"Mom," I tried again. This time the word scraped out of me. "It hurts."

My mother finally glanced over her shoulder. She frowned as if I had interrupted something important.

"Rainie, stop it," she said. "Can't you see your sister is unwell? Wait."

My sister's screaming spiked even higher. "Make her leave! Make her go away!"

She grabbed a glass from the coffee table and hurled it at the wall. It exploded, and shards scattered across the room.

My father rushed to her and wrapped his arms around her as if she were made of glass and I were the one throwing stones.

"It's okay, Stella. Daddy's here," he murmured, gentle enough to make me feel sick. "It's okay. Daddy already chased the bad sister away. No one is going to hurt you."

My hand dragged weakly across the floor.

My fingertips left a thin smear of blood behind them, proof that I had been here at all.