"W-What?" I snorted and narrowed my eyes at the picture. "This is ridiculous! This is not even funny! Why would you even joke about my mum's death, Brownie? Why?""George, it's not a joke," I heard my father's sombre voice while I was laughing hysterically and he placed a hand on my shoulder. "It's not a joke."I cocked my head, analysing the picture and said, "Hmm. Maybe this isn't what it appears to be! It can be someone who-who looks exactly like him or-or . . . ""This is him," I heard my father's voices, then footsteps, some noises, but my mind couldn't process any sound because my head was spinning.A firm hand squeezed my shoulder causing me to flinch and I whirled around. My hand clamped over my mouth as I shook my head when I saw Clark standing right in front of me with handcuffs on. He just stood there frozen, his spine straight and his body rigid like a rock."What-What is going on . . . " I trailed off and took quick, firm steps towards him until I was right in front of hi

Two weeks later"Hey, Ian. Come on in," I said while trying to be as cheerful as possible and he just quietly followed me upstairs, to my room.He sat on the chair near the desk, right opposite to me while I plopped on my bed. We sat in silence, my gaze fixated at the floor and my fingers softly drumming on the sheets. Ian's face was buried in his hands tiredly and he slowly looked up.It was like we were mirroring each other's expression. Dark circles underneath our eyes, my eyes were puffy while his bloodshot and a strange kind of sadness looming over our faces. The sadness of losing our own mothers and the respective guilt of not spending enough time with them. This kind of sadness we often saw lingering over Clark's face, but it was too common on him. It was too surreal on us, the people who were always smiling and grinning."How're you doing?" I asked Ian while he shifted uncomfortably on the chair."Not good," he said honestly and we both sighed. "What about you?""Not good," I

Five years later"Hey! Let me in, you assholes! I'll make sure you all are fired! Hey, Let me in!" I yelled and thrashed in the arms of the guards who prevented me from entering the posh building."Don't bite me!" one of the guards roared in alarm as I tried to bite him."You will never change, will you?" I heard a deep, raspy voice from inside the opulent passage way and my head jerked up."Why, you want me to?" I barked while clawing at the guards still holding me in place."Of course not," Clark appeared in a crisp, dark suit and sauntered towards me."Tell them to let go of me! I swear I'll bite this one's dick off--- ""Leave her," Clark ordered and the guards reluctantly left me which made me fall down on the floor with a loud thud."I'll make sure you all are fired, each one of you," I snarled with deliberate emphasis and it looked like they didn't believe me because they muffled their laughter. I huffed, got up, dusted my tuxedo and snapped, "You tell them, Brownie!"Clark coo

My dearest grandmother strutted through the door without any greeting, her sagging chin held high up and her red coloured lips drawn into a thin line. She was nearing eighty years and still was dressed ostentatiously in a tight, black mini-skirt, red tube top with a denim jacket, fishnet stockings and black sandals with block heels. She thrusted the innumerable paper bags which contained gifts for her great grandchildren to the nanny and me and brushed past me like she owned the damn place.Robert was dressed modestly in a striped shirt and trousers as he emerged through the door. My dearest grandmother was already complaining about the crummy place and I stood frozen on my spot, flabbergasted by their sudden arrival. Robert hugged me and then Clark while patting his back affectionately, talked to us for a few seconds and I managed to crack a smile, until my grandmother called him dramatically like those old-fashioned wives calling their husbands in soap operas.As Robert strode towar