My Brother's Keeper

I take my seat behind Preston Stuart on Wednesday morning during my first period. I had not tried to cover the two black eyes and busted lip I had received the day before. Nobody asked what had happened or if I was okay. It was business as usual. Lots of whispers and pointing, but nobody made a move. I clutched my books tightly in my hands and walked down the hallway with whatever dignity I had left.

When I took a seat, I made sure one of my books smacked into Preston’s chair, which instantly caused him to turn around and gawk at me.

“Odette,” he acknowledges me with a sneer. “Nice eyes.”

I blink in response. To speak will break a million teenage rules. If you’re one of the invisible, you don’t talk to the elite, even if they talk to you first. It’s a rule for teen royalty. Preston is top tier, and I had interrupted the hierarchy.

“You ever do anything like that again, and I will bury you,” he threatens. “I know what you did to your mother’s body, so don’t think I wouldn’t find some satisfaction from mutilating yours for one second.”

I narrowed my eyes, no longer taking his threats for what they were. He may have had a wicked right hook, but I was still standing. I swallowed the lump and forced my eyes to meet his.

“Leave my brother alone, and you won’t suffer the same fate as my mother,” I retort through clenched teeth.

Preston seemed almost shocked I had said anything at all. I had barely said a dozen words in the three years I attended Coscoroba High School. Now he had heard me speak on two occasions, and for the first time, he saw I wasn’t frightened of him.

“You think you have it in you?” Preston laughs before leaning in close. “I miss the days when we burned witches.”

Well, he knows how to peg you. Next time maybe don’t come off so crazy.

I stare at the back of his head for the rest of class, plotting his demise. I fantasize about all the ways I could kill him. Nobody would suspect the Sloan girl. I’m in therapy and live my life as a good citizen. Nothing would tie me to his death—if they found his body.

I know how to make it so he’s never found. His parents would catch on, but you need a body to convict.

The bell rings, and I wait for the class to file out the door before leaving. It is customary to allow those higher on the food chain space. Once the last student left the room, I was up. However, the moment my feet hit the hallway, the atmosphere felt tense. I look to my left and see Pax as he slams back-first into the lockers.

Of course, the culprit is Preston Stuart and his pack of goons. Three against one is unfair, and while Preston already marked me from the day before, what are another few punches to protect my baby brother?

Anger surges as I push through the crowded hallway to step between Preston’s fist and my brother’s face. Like the day before, his fist collides with my eye, and I stand there without flinching.

“You want more of this, bitch?” Preston screams in my face. “You and your sissy ass brother!”

“Are you okay, Pax?” I ask, my eyes never wavering from Preston’s.

I can hear Pax behind me, trying to keep it collected. He’s not a fighter and never has been. I have learned to roll with the punches; I had to throw a few.

“I’m fine, Odette. You don’t have to do this.” He places his hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah, sis, you don’t have to—“ Preston begins, but I lash out, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him into the brick wall behind him. Preston falls to the floor. I can almost see the swirl of bluebirds above his head.

I take three gigantic steps in his direction.

“I warned you,” I seethe as I pin the bully to the ground and wail at him as he had done to me the day before.

When the teachers finally pull me off of him, his face is bloody, and he has lost consciousness. Not even his friends came to his rescue during the brawl. They merely stood back and watched as a girl kicked his ass. Maybe half of them didn’t like the fact he had hit me. Perhaps they were afraid they were next. Little did they know they were already on my list of expendable flesh.

Take it in, Odette. All that power is yours.

I’m rushed to the nurse’s office while the principal calls my father. I had reopened the wound on my lip, and my nose was bleeding. Half an hour later, my father arrives and is brought into the nurse’s office.

“Dear lord Odette, are you okay?” he asks as he kneels in front of me and checks for fresh wounds.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter.

He pulls my chin upward so I’m looking him in the eyes.

“For what?”

I turn my eyes in Pax’s direction. He was in the chair next to me with an ice pack on his face. Preston got a few hits before I arrived, but Pax would be fortunate not to have a black eye.

“She beat the shit out of him,” Pax proudly chimes in.

My father hangs his head and shakes it. He wasn’t expecting a confession so quickly.

“Principal Gadwall said you threw Preston Stuart through a wall.” My father’s face is concerned, but his eyes hold another emotion: fear.

“It wasn’t through the wall. It’s repairable.” I retort with a shrug.

He turns his attention to Pax, who sits there with a massive grin.

“You should have seen her, Dad. Seeing someone give that asshole a taste of his own medicine.” Pax is far more excited than I feel.

He deserved it!

They suspended me for the rest of the week. The principal had explained the zero-tolerance policy, and my father signed the papers, not holding the school liable for what had happened. Preston Stuart received the same fate as I did since he threw the first punch. Pax and the group of cronies were safe from punishment.

I wasn’t allowed in the room with Preston’s parents, but I could hear them yelling from my spot in the office. The door muffled the words, but my father seemed amused. I felt it was a hard pill to swallow that a girl had injured their son.

“Let’s go.” My dad put out his hand to help me stand.

“Karen’s going to be pissed,” I grumble as we walk out of the office.

“I can handle Karen,” he promises.

We’re getting into the truck just as Preston and his parents exit the high school. We make eye contact, and he acts out how he’s planning to kill me while their backs are turned. I should have been frightened, but having already survived one murderous rampage, I know I’d survive another.

“I think he likes you,” my father teases as I shut the door.

I flash him a sour look. “What do you think I should do about it?”

He winks. “I’m not sure I’m willing to give him your hand.”

We leave the parking lot in decent spirits, but remorse takes over when we hit the road. It had felt good to get even with Preston for what he had done to my brother, but something told me it wasn’t smart.

“Odette.” My father says my name in a way that raises a red flag.

“What’s up?” I respond.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He looks from the road to me and then back to the road. We had already had a wild afternoon. What else could he want to know?

“Of course,” I reply as positively as I can muster.

“Last night, you mentioned you met Soren. Is there anything specific he told you?” There is darkness flashing in my father’s eyes. The fact I mentioned Soren’s name the night before must have been weighing heavily on his mind.

“Nothing of use, I suppose. Just the witch and blood ledger, but I told you that last night.” I shrug. Something about the conversation should have bothered me.

“Nothing else?” he presses.

“He mentioned when I was ready, I should find him.”

To me, my conversation with Soren had been odd. He said I would have questions; I didn’t know what about. He wanted to talk to me about all my mother’s witchy stuff, but I had no reason to seek him out. At least not yet.

His tone darkens as he says, “Odette. I don’t know how to tell you any of this. I only know the small bits the police told me. Lenny’s involvement in your mother’s murder was a means to get to you.”

The air is chilly as we stop next to the water.

“Why?” My voice quivers.

“You will find out soon enough, but I want you to promise me one thing.” Dad grabs my face and places his forehead on mine.

“Anything,” I murmur.

“They can never find the bodies.”

I froze in place, afraid to move. I was sure I had heard him wrong, but the look on his face told me I had heard exactly what he had said.

“What do you mean?” I choke out, pulling back.

“What Soren told you is true. Your mother was a witch. All of our misfortune rides on your mother’s magic.” He’s staring at me, and I’m not sure I’m the insane one.

“Next, you will tell me Lenny is some sorcerer waiting for his second chance!” I roar, laughing.

The color drains from my father’s face, and I latch my mouth shut.

This is not possible. I think to myself as I watch his expression.

Anything is possible. A little voice in the back of my mind added once I had begun to breathe again.

“He is a sorcerer, but I’m not so sure about the second chance. He knows he did wrong, but he was under a spell.”

“A spell?” I retort.

Was he serious?

He puts the truck in park and tries to gain control of our awkward conversation.

“Yes, there is a lot of mystery surrounding your mother’s murder,” he says.

I’m not buying it. When I left Eider, I was on medication to keep me sane. I missed one dose and wound up in an alternate reality. I was sure of it.

“This isn’t right!” I groan. “You weren’t there when he killed her. You didn’t do the things I did to survive.”

I watch his face twist into anger. I must have pushed him too far with my attitude.

“Damn it, Odette, Lenny didn’t kill your mother. You did!”

The last two words hang in the air between us. I don’t want to believe it, but the look in my father’s eyes tells me it’s true.

“What?” I whisper.

Whack!

The sound of the cleaver hitting bone echoes through the cab.

Grind!

The disposal vibration cuts into her flesh, tearing it into tiny bits so they can wash down the drain. My mother’s torso sits upright to look at me while I dispose of her limbs.

You take a witch’s arms and legs, and she can no longer wield magic.

“What am I?” I demand.

The world spins. My mother’s face comes into view, her expression contorting as she lets out a soul-shattering scream.

“You are what Soren says you are.” My father’s voice is hushed as I sit inside the darkness of my mind. She wants to attack, but something is keeping her back.

“Why?” I whisper.

The darkness fades, and the truck’s cab comes back into view.

“I need to speak with Lenny,” I demand.

I look up at my father.

“He’s not a good man, Odette. He wanted to keep you for himself.”

It doesn’t matter what he wants to do with me; Lenny knows something about me, and I need to find out what it is. There was a reason for my birth. Part of me wonders if it has to do with Pax.

“It doesn’t matter, Dad. Can you make it happen?” I reach out and take his hand.

“I will do my best,” he replies.

After dinner, I excuse myself to my room to relax following my eventful day. They had passed lots of information to me, and what my father revealed did not make the situation any easier to stomach. First, a strange man in a white suit tells me my mother was a homicidal witch, and then my dad tells me nobody can find the bodies. What am I supposed to become? Am I a witch, or am I a serial killer?

However, while pondering these thoughts, I fall asleep without taking my medication for the second night.

I’m not sure how long I was asleep, but I was not in my room when I woke. The air smells of cinnamon and roses. The ground feels plush, and I realize my house isn’t mine.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I hear his voice before I focus on his face.

Preston is standing at the end of a long hallway with his hands on his hips. His green eyes are flaming, his thin lips are pressed together, and his blonde hair is wet from a recent shower. I don’t know how to respond, so I spin on my heel and run.

“Not this time, bitch!” he screams after me.

Before he tackles me, I make it down the stairs and out the front door.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat over and over.

“You should be.” He pins my wrists above my head and looks down at me.

I look up and into the tormented eyes of a madman.

He’s livid, and for a good reason. He was an insufferable asshole, but I had become a thorn in his spine. His lips are pulled back in a sneer, and his nostrils flare as his breathing intensifies.

I choose not to struggle and instead merely await the onslaught of punches to the soft parts of my body.

“I didn’t mean to,” I whimper.

“Don’t worry, Odette. I will make sure this never happens again.” Preston’s other hand comes down hard on my throat, knocking the wind from my lungs and prohibiting the airflow.

It must be twenty or thirty seconds before my feet thrash. Not long after that, I writhe and kick to free from Preston’s grasp. Then everything goes dark. I’m unsure if he finally kills me, but my mind still races even after the lights go out.

Somewhere in the beyond, I hear Preston let out a sickening gasp.

Slowly, the front yard comes into view. I don’t feel in control. It’s as if someone else is using my body, and I’m watching through a mirror. I can see it all, and I want to run in fear. The woman on the grass isn’t me.

“Odette?” Preston chokes out.