Thread: The War Zone [Assficianado & YellowSmoke]

Had Lara been able to read her brother's thoughts she would have scoffed at how intensely he focused on her weakness - or at least told him to come on - though given deep enough reflection she would have been grateful for his concern, however overblown she thought it to be. She was sixteen now, and while still a child in many ways, she was almost an adult and felt herself well able to take care of herself. Hell, she had been left to do much of the cleaning and cooking in her mother's absence, and she had dealt with that pretty well thus far. The truth, however, was that it did hurt to see her family's security waning, drifting dangerously far from shore on the bow of their father's increased intake of alcohol. They had been through so much in these last few months first, the death of her grandmother, which - though she had seen her only occasionally - brought her sadness. Secondly, the death of young Devin, which had introduced a cold silence into the house which then and even now felt strangely alien to her. And of course, most recently, the shocking news of her mother's sudden collapse and lapse into coma. The twins deserved more than this from their father they needed more. She did her best not to let it all get to her, though in the end her essays only made her numb, as though the grief had not gone away but had been merely been pushed into her depths to poison the most passing of happy days or minutes. She smiled so much more infrequently nowadays - more so even than in the days since her mother had been admitted to hospital - and behind the scenes it all weighed heavily on her. She was only sixteen, and she had not learned how to deal with such trials. The blankness of the wall upon which she gazed was but a mirror for that which passed through her mind nothingness. Like a gently toppling statue, she let her head fall softly to her brother's chest, and barely moved a muscle as she lay there, a warm body in his embrace. It will be... An empty sentiment it seemed, well-meant but lacking the slightest shred of evidence which might have kindled hope in her breast. Tom was ever the loving brother, but it seemed that even his promises held nothing for her now, as did life, as did death. She was not depressed, and the thought of suicide hadn't even crossed her mind in the dead of night, she was but an empty vessel, deaf to its own hopes for the future. It was the same at school - her new school, of course - in which she often sat side-by-side with her brother, yearning for the day to come to a close so that she could return home and do exactly the same sit by Tom's side and wait for the day to end. She sighed and curled up, resting her legs upon his thighs and allowing her eyes to close. Was this the only place she could find comfort? Did nothing beyond the darkness of closed eyes and the warmth of her brothers embrace hold anything more for her? She almost fell asleep upon his chest, but eventually she sat and looked back to the wall, one side of her mouth shrugging ambivalently. This sucks... Can I sleep with you tonight? It wouldn't be the first time - or the last - that the twins shared a bed, though the fact that it happened less and less frequently with age spoke as to the volume of Lara's need for comfort, comfort which the world seemed loathe to provide her with. If anything should happen to Tom, or even to her father, for that matter, she didn't know what she would do. Presumably, she would waste away until the nothingness claimed her as its own.