• Prologue








    Celestic goddess of the moon,

    Forgive me for my sins.


    Scrawny legs swung back and forth in the empty air, pale as the moon itself and glowing in the Missouri sun; mystical and secretive.

    Uncommon.

    The sound of voices, harsh and indistinctive, floated through the thick padding of the carpet. They were screaming at each other at who would keep her, who would protect her and pay child support.

    Her, not me.

    She had an inferno of red hair that swung to her shoulders in little waves, her arms specked with freckles. She had her tiny frame hunched over, staring at the carpet vacantly, grey-green eyes searching. Her round face was also flecked with freckles, a common blemish in my family.

    I stared at her fingers as they wound and unwound around each other. They were stubby like mine; we didn’t like having long nails.

    But we didn’t like being separated either.

    Bianca turned to me, her hands clasped together as she stared at me for a moment, eyes suspiciously wet looking. I inhaled softly, staring at her with consideration as she turned to face me fully, wrapping her arms around her legs. “You don’t think I’m different, do you, V?”

    Her pale face was almost blinding in the sunlight, glittering like a thousand faucets were embedded in her skin.

    I swallowed.

    Dad said that he had an explanation for how Bianca was suddenly reacting so differently to the sun than everyone else. However, I doubted every word that left his mouth when he licked his lips; something that I’d noticed for the past three years mom had remarried him.

    He was lying.

    He had no clue what was wrong with her, and I doubt anyone else in the world did either.

    She was only in fourth grade; so I suspected that she dumped all of my glittery lotion on herself before we went out for school, too early like usual, but when we went out for recess that afternoon, her skin was so bright…too fluorescent for something that an 8 ounce bottle of lotion could do. Bianca dismissed it, flaunting her glowing skin to other students and friends who would stare in wonderment; but when she left the tarmac, adults reacted strangely to her. They stared, whispering to each other, and moved away when she got too close.

    So I decided to take her to the principal and have us both taken home early for school.

    I wouldn’t leave her side.

    She’s my little sister and I protected her like she was a delicate part of my soul.

    I smiled, trying to lighten the heavy mood that threatened to close my throat.

    “Like your normal difference or the new one?” I asked jokingly, swinging my legs around to face her, “Because, I remember on April Fool’s day you gave dad an exploding packet full of paint.”

    Her face grew from poignant to radiant and she laughed; the musical golden sound wandering throughout the small one-story house. I grinned, opening my arms in a silent request for a hug. Bianca threw herself into my arms, a smile on her face and I struggled to keep my smile too. Tears were threatening to fall from my eyes and I rubbed her back soothingly. How could she not notice herself changing? How did she deal with all of this?

    She was so cold.

    Her skin was too hard to be comfortable, and she smelled different. Something like a floral and tropical perfume that was permanently embedded on her skin.

    Bianca sighed against my chest and pulled away from me, sitting back onto her knees and picking at the fabric of her shirt.

    I hugged my knees to my chest, willing the cold lump in my stomach to leave. “Of course I don’t think your different.”

    “Dad does.”

    “Well dad’s full of his ego.”

    She looked up at me, her eyes wavering on my forehead before lowering again. I wrinkled my nose and brushed the rest of my hair in front of my face. “What happened to your head?” Bianca asked softly, never lifting her gaze from her hands. I had to strain to hear her. She was usually loud and more than a little annoying; the modest restless nuisance that kept everyone alert. My eyes continued to sting with the tears I held in, and I hoped that she didn’t see it.

    “Nothing. Fell off my skate-board when Vince and I went down to Main Street.” I shrugged as though it were nothing, “Mrs. Abacorkie needs to tame Fuzz.”

    She laughed dryly and I was surprised to hear that a little sob was in her voice. “No…dad did that to you. For staying out too long at the theaters.”

    I fell silent, the ache in my chest filling with suspecision.

    Last night, while Bianca and mom were at Mr. and Mrs. Hendrickson’s house, I went to the movies with Vince and Ginger, well known in the neighborhood as the Catastrophe Twins, to see the new hit summer movie G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra. It was a good film, but it was too long, and Vince lost his car keys and that took an extra fifteen minutes to find them. By the time I got home, it was already 10:34 at night and I was way past my curfew.

    I thought I could get away with it, because around that time dad was asleep, but he had a startlingly good memory….

    “No he didn’t.” I persisted, biting the inside of my lip.

    Bianca was no where near the house when I came home, so that meant she shouldn’t be making wild assumptions.

    “He did. I smell him on you.”

    My mouth dropped and the air I sucked in through my mouth tasted stale, as though my amazement shifted the atmosphere of our room.

    “Bianca,” I laughed nervously, shaking my head slowly in disbelief at her imagination, “You can’t smell a person unless they have on some type of perfume or cologne.” But, during that moment the words left her lips, I was willing to believe anything and doubt every inch of 'logic' happening in the world. My little sister was changing, so drastically, and I was watching every moment of it...letting it tear me apart...us apart...

    “Yes I can.”

    “No, you can’t.” My voice was rough with frustration and she looked up at me.

    “Can too.” She persisted, folding her small arms across her chest. Her angelic face puffed up, seemingly enhancing her adorable charm, and an almost undetectable tinge of pink dusted her cheeks.

    I laughed in absolute disbelief, my hand slapping against the comforters as I tilted my head upward, pretending to pray to whatever demented person brought me this kid. I faced her again, and jumped to see her standing so close, a pale white sweater replacing her pink and purple striped tube top. Smoothing out my face, I stuffed my hands into my jean pockets, putting amusement on my appearance to hide my fear. “Prove it.”

    Bianca smiled sheepishly and she leaned in a little, sniffing the air I breathed as I leaned away.

    “You smell nice. Like lavender and wild orchids and ocean brine too…” She inhaled again, a contented sigh, and I felt my stomach turn hollow.

    Somehow that made me feel like it was a complement of some bizarre source. Suddenly, she giggled, “You’re nervous.” It wasn’t a question, and I stared at her in amazement as she reopened her eyes, leaning away from me.

    “Dad smells…different than you.” She added hesitantly, “It burns my nose a little bit just to catch a whiff of that smell…it’s really spicy too… I think it’s called…”

    “Red peppers?” I offered. I almost laughed at myself. Red peppers were the only things that I’ve known that qualified as spicy to me.

    She nodded enthusiastically. “He smells like red-peppers and it gets worse when he’s angry--”

    “Bianca!” We jumped identically at the roar of our dad’s voice from the hallway. I swallowed hard and strained to hear mom.

    She was crying downstairs.

    My eyes flashed to the window and astoundment stroke me to see the dark blue tint that pooled around the floor. Where had the time gone? It couldn’t be more than past seven o’clock. My eyes traced back to my younger sister, trying to burn the image of the perfect little stranger that took her place.

    Bianca seemed just as amazed then her eyes found mine, and I was stunned that she was smiling. “Aww…time to go already?” Her voice was whiney before giving me a hug, chilling me again from her skin. “We’ll be back tomorrow though, right?”

    I didn’t answer, but my head made a wooden movement and it took me to minute to realize that I nodded.

    She was too young to understand that mom and dad weren’t going to be seeing each other for a while. It wasn’t exactly a divorce, but something that needed to be thought out until Bianca was normal again.

    “You’ll miss me right?” Her bell-like voice brought me out of my reverie, “Promise to call everyday?”

    I smiled faintly, “Promise.”

    Smiling, she raised her right wrist; showing a tiny, gold chain laced around a smaller silver heart locket. It was supposed to be a necklace, but since dad misread the length, it was too small to fit around her neck. Mom was upset with him for a couple of weeks because he gave Bianca a present three sizes too small, then left for a court-room meeting. Feebly, I raised my left wrist, showing her my identical bracelet; the gold heart locket twinkling faintly from the glow of my bedroom lamp. Without another word, Bianca dropped her wrist, gave me a faint smile, and left the room. Leaving me alone in our room--my room--and I sat there stiffly, listening to the gears whirl as the garage door opened. The sound of dad’s Honda Civic start and the faint buzz of the radio, turned once at full blast, being silenced. Finally the faint crunch of gravel and two bright headlights flashed across my curtains, highlighting the navy cloth. I listened harder, my throat clamped up with emotion.

    That was it.

    Everything was silent.

    And I let the tears I held in for so long fall from my eyes.

    We always fought for one another,

    But this time we couldn’t win.