Chapter 1 - Another Night In Hell

The Greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance, it is the illusion of knowledge. ~Stephen Hawking~

“Lisa, do you want to have take-out tonight? Jamsie….I mean, your father, has to work late, so I maybe thought that you, me and Amy could, I don’t know, have some girl time?”Maria the step-mother asked me. Her bleach blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail and she wore a pencil skirt and a jacket over stockings and a white button up shirt. She had just some home from work.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” I said, keeping my head down and pretending that I was absorbed in a Goosebumps book I had grabbed off the floor as she walked in.

“Okay, great! I’ll ask Amy what she wants. Do you have any requests?” She sounded dejected but tried to keep a cheery tone. Something healthy, for once, I thought but I just shrugged.

“Not really.” I replied with my head still down. I would not fall for the I’m-trying-but-you-don’t-want-to-communicate guilt trip that was being played. I heard the door close and threw my book across the room.  You b***h! I felt like screaming at her.

I had never liked Maria. Her daughter, Amy, was okay on some days and horrible others. Amy was three and a half years younger than me and she would be starting high school in a few short months. That meant that I would be starting year twelve. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t even like year eight, nine, ten or eleven! Why should I bother going back? I had a few close friends that were like family but that was it. I hated my teachers, my schoolwork, the students... The best part about school was my ‘adopted’ family. I called them that because we are like a family but we’re from different families.

 Three sisters, one brother, plus me.

Kya was eighteen and my first friend in high school. She was medium height with long deep brown hair, pale skin with a few freckles, green eyes and a gentle soul. I used to be jealous of her, of how naturally pretty she was both inside and out, and I still was a little, but she was her own person and I couldn’t imagine being her for a single day. Not because I wouldn’t want to trade lives, I would, but because I couldn’t imagine a day without her. Kya was so different from how she looked though, while most people would assume she listened to classical music and watched old style movies, a classic ‘old-soul’, she relished in punk rock music and layered outfits.

Mikki was the artsy one of the group and she was seventeen. She was a bit taller, with gorgeous long legs, short purple hair, chocolate brown eyes, soft features, pale skin and was the best artist I had ever seen. Mikki was definitely the artsy one and her style reflected that too; what with her denim shorts, plaid shirts, white beret and thin black framed glasses. Not only was she gorgeous, but man, could she draw! And paint… and any other art form. She always had her sketch book with her, always taking inspiration from everywhere she went; especially her friends and people around her, morphing them into characters that you’d find in a fantasy story. When she spoke out, she spoke out, not holding anything back, which made her a valuable asset to our quintet.

Jasmine was only sixteen, but heck, she could’ve been my older sister. She was a short punk chick, without a doubt. Hoodies with punk bands, dark jeans and black eyeliner defined her, so did her bass guitar and poetry book. Sure, she seemed to fit the ‘emo’ stereotype, but she wasn’t even close. She was revolted by smoking since she quit at the age of fourteen after six months of being addicted. It was the same with hardcore partying and drinking. Once she stopped, everything looked up for her. She was happy and confident; her school grades improved and she was looking forward to uni. She always gave me the best advice; there was nothing I could hold from her. When things got tough and I couldn’t tell anyone, she was there, gripping my arm so tightly it went numb, making me tell her everything.

The only guy I called my family spent most of his time watching movies and reading novels as thick as a school textbook. Jamie was one of the coolest guys I had ever met and anything we needed to know, he generally knew already, so we just had to ask him. He was a little taller than Mikki with honey coloured hair, tanned skin and blue-grey eyes. To match his award winning intelligence was his wit, able to make a joke when we needed it the most. His style was very indie-like; faded, slightly baggy jeans, plain coloured shirts and stripy jackets, simple but effective, very much like himself.

They were my extended family; the family that I loved to be with, unlike my real one.

My mother was born Phoebe Jane Wilson and died Phoebe Jane Wilson-Krintah. The last words she ever spoke to me were the same ones she had been chanting to me since before I could remember.

“Believe in yourself and the impossible, Lissa. If you believe in the impossible, everything is possible.”

My last memory was not a pleasant one, so I repressed it as often as I could, remembering the much desired happier one, weeks before she contracted her disease. We had been sitting in a field of daisies on a summer day, and my mother turned to me. Her light brown bouncy hair was playing in the wind and her green eyes sparkled in the sun. In my mothers’ eyes I saw her very being, her soul and it was constantly playing, full of love and knowledge; her passion for life radiating around her, affecting me.

We laid in the sunshine surrounded by beautiful flowers and spoke about patterns in the clouds.

“That one looks like a dragon, Lissa. See? It’s standing on its back legs like the majestic creature it is.”

“Mama, I can’t see it. There’s no such things as dragons. It’s impossible.” I answered.

“No, it’s not. How could we not know what a dragon is, if there are none to speak of?”

“It’s impossible.” I insisted, sitting up. My strapped orange dress was light and I lifted my sunhat with the orange sunflower on to my hair, shading my green eyes (like my mother’s) and keeping my dark brown-black curls from getting into my eyes.

“No, Lissa.”  My mother sat up as well. “Nothing is impossible. If something were impossible than it would not be thought of. If you believe in the impossible then everything is possible.”

“Mama, that makes no sense!”

“It does. You just have to believe. Never give up on yourself, okay? If something feels right then it is.” My mother replied. Her green eyes seemed to be burned into my memory. Those green eyes, so full of love and life...

 

I was still in my room, lying on my bed when I came too. I had been daydreaming again. Reminiscing about the past.

My mother had died when I was eight and that was when my father began to worry.  He had needed my mother. She was care-free, happy and had a largely open mind. He was not. James Krintah was raised in a strictly Christian family and they used to beat him before the accident; his parents and brother died in a car crash. My father wanted me to have the support he never had and that’s why he fell in love with Maria. He didn’t plan it or anything, but he had been looking for a wife for two years before he found her and they fell in love, just like that. My mother seemed forgotten to all but me. I did not know her parents, they did not live near and I had no brothers or sisters. I was all alone in my silent never-ending tribute to my mother.

When my father married Maria, I was the bridesmaid and Amy was the flower girl. As I helped Maria and did all the things that bridesmaids do, I began to think that maybe we could get along. Maybe she could be like my best friend... it was all I thought about as I got dressed in my baby blue bridesmaids dress but as we prepared to walk down the red carpeted isle, Maria turned to me and said the words that made me hate her forever.

“I’m going to be your new mum.”                           

Those seven words changed the way I saw her. I no longer saw her as the woman my father loved and was happy with, the woman who could be my best friend. I saw her as the b***h that made my father forget. The woman who tried to replace my mother. The woman who I could never accept.

“Lisa! Mum bought Pizza!” Amy cried as she threw open my door with a bang and I jumped. One half of Amy’s blonde usually straight hair was curled into ringlets that my dark hair usually fell into, and the other half was frizzy but straight; her faded blue eyes were full of excitement and joy. She wore a purple tank top and light blue jeans.

Someone’s getting all pretty for another date with her boyfriend tomorrow.

“Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.” I said with a sigh. But she was already gone. How I envied her. Reluctantly, I pulled myself off of my bed and dragged my feet through the dining room and into the lounge where I was greeted by the smell of meat-lovers pizza. I frowned and my stomach turned as Maria looked over to me.

“Hey! Come join us, we’re about to watch the Notebook.” She said. I sat on the couch and hugged a pillow to my chest with my knees.

Great. Yet another meat meal. God she must hate me.

“You want some?” Amy asked holding out a piece of greasy meat covered dough with her grotty hands. I glared at her for two reasons. One, because I envied her relationship with her mother, the fact that she had a mother, and two because both she and Maria knew I was vegetarian.

Instead of snapping or saying my thoughts, I shook my head and stared at the screen blankly.

“Lisa, honey, what’s wrong?” the fact that she called me ‘honey’ tipped me off the edge.

Honey?  I thought bitterly. “I don’t eat Meat!” I forced the words out of my mouth in a low tone so I wouldn’t yell. They came out mechanically, forced. “You know that. You have known for the past eighteen months!”

“Don’t give me attitude! I’m trying to do something nice for you, for us.” I swore at her many times in my head.

“You can’t be, because if you did you would have gotten me something vegetarian!” I jumped up and stormed into the kitchen.

“Don’t worry!” I shouted angrily, no longer able to hold my restraint. “I’ll go eat a carrot or something, okay?” My remark echoed through the kitchen.

I grabbed a box of crackers and some cheese from the fridge and went into my room, making sure that the door slammed loudly behind me.

I threw the food onto my bed and hit my fists against the door angrily, but that did not satisfy me. I went over to where the loose square of carpet was and pulled out my ‘blade’. I sat against the door, so that no-one could come in, and twisted the small shard of a Stanley knife in my fingers. It caught the light and I pressed it to my skin, making small marks on my thighs, squeezing my eyes shut as the ‘blade’ sliced through causing a trail of blood to form..

Nobody knew I was a self-harmer these days. Mikki, Kya, Jamie and Jasmine knew I used to, but when I picked up the habit again, I hadn’t said a word and I had found new places to do it, less noticeable places.

I was angry and upset. My heart felt like it would burst with the unused anger turning into adrenaline in my veins. Tears began to fall from my eyes, dragging my black mascara and eyeliner along with it. My heart called out for my mother as the rest of me called out for a better life, a place where I belonged...

 

*****

 

“She’s out of control James!” Maria cried. She struggled against the emotions she felt and tried to remember that Lisa was not her child. She had no right to punish her but it was getting harder and harder to put up with her.

“No, she’s not.” James replied calmly, trying to defuse the issue. His wife was actually a beautiful woman with muddy brown eyes and bleach blonde hair but when she got angry, she got angry. “She just has to get used to you being here, being a part of my life.”

“She has had over eighteen months to get used to me!”

“Look, I know it seems ridiculous to you, but Lisa is finding it hard. She has to deal with a new mother and a new sister, which she hadn’t even known before we got married.”

Maria hung her head. “I’m trying James, but she isn’t giving me a chance. She refused to eat with me and Amy tonight and I even bought pizza. I was trying to bring us closer with girl-time but she refused to eat anything and stormed off to her room.” James moved forward and hugged his wife.

“I love you. It’ll be okay.”

“I don’t know anymore James. Will it really be okay?”

“Yes. I promise.” James let go of his wife and walked down the hall to the door marked ‘STRICTLY NO ENTRY’.

 

“Lisa? Can I come in?”

“Um, Jasmine? I have to go.” The devil wants to dance. If I never see you again, know that I love you and that I will you guys everyone of my possessions. She thought desperately.

“Why?” she seemed to hear the shouts. “Okay bub. Take care.”

“You too. Love you.” Lisa hung up.

“Lisa?” James stuck his head in the door. “Who were you talking too?” he asked, seeing the phone still in his daughters’ hand.

“Jasmine,” she replied. Obviously…

“Ah. Can I come in?”

No. “I guess.” She shrugged her frail thin shoulders. She was nothing like her mother in appearance. Except her eyes. Those green eyes that did not hold the same love as they once did. It was no wonder that James worried. Ever since Phoebe died... he mentally shook himself, refusing to go down the path he had blocked off for so long.

Apart from her eyes and curly hair, Lisa looked like James. Her mat of black-brown hair fell past her shoulder blades and pale skin which made her look even smaller in her frail body frame. Her hands were like spiders, her fingers long and thin.

James examined his daughters’ appearance as he entered her room. She wore black jeans over her skinny legs and a grey and black hooded jacket over a red tank top.

“Why on earth are you wearing jeans? It’s thirty-nine degrees outside, the middle of summer, and you’re wearing jeans?”

Lisa shrugged but her eyes flicked to the towel in the corner of the room; she always used it to clean up the blood from the blade and the skin after cutting. She knew she would have to wash it herself without Maria or James knowing. Luckily, James did not notice her eyes, he had avoided looking directly into them since Phoebe died.  The hidden pain.... she would have to return to her homeland soon, but James did not want to think about that.

James sat on Lisa’s violet quilt that had been thrown over her bed to make it look neat and gestured for Lisa to join him. She scooted back so that she was on the other side of the bed, with her back against the wall. That was how she sat whenever they spoke, which was very little now that Maria, Amy and James’ new job came along. She hoped that the distance between them would protect her…. it never did.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. He moved one of Lisa’s pillows and saw the box of crackers that she had brought in earlier. James held them up and looked questioningly at his daughter.

“My tea.” She said, directly ignoring his first question. He didn’t notice though. He didn’t notice a lot of things these days. That was also Maria’s fault.

“Why? Maria said that she bought pizza for you three.”

“I’m a vegetarian dad. Remember? I don’t eat meat. Thus, I refuse to eat the meat-lovers pizza that Maria, knowingly bought.”

“Watch your attitude,” he said warningly.

Lisa shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest, before she looked at her purple walls that were a shade darker than her quilt cover. When her mother had died, Lisa had had a change of colour scheme. The oranges, yellows and pinks that she had loved before had been replaced by blacks, purples, silvers and the occasionally white. That meant that she had gotten a job temporarily, bought tins of purple, black and silver paint and re-painted her room. Her father disapproved, but he thought it was her way of dealing with Phoebes’ death. He was only half-right.

“Look, I know you’re trying to like Maria,” James began. Whatever, I’m not trying. I hate her, Lisa thought with a slight glare in her eyes, as her father obliviously continued. “But she’s giving her all trying to make her relationship with you work. I think you should give her a chance.”

“I’m trying.” Lisa said, not saying one word that was a lie. She really wanted to like Maria, but every time she tried to, the seven words came back to her. “But dad, I can’t live with her. It’s too much, too soon.”

“Lisa Phoebe Krintah,” James said standing up. “We have been married for nearly eighteen months. I think you have had plenty of time to get used to Maria. I love that woman with all my heart and I’m not going to let you not make her feel welcome in our family.” He walked over to the door as Lisa shouted her retort.

“And what about mum? You said that you loved her with all your heart and look! Now she lays dead and forgotten because of her! I will not accept Maria into my family because I don’t want another mother! I want mine!” Lisa stood on her bed, shouting the words with so much anger and passion.

James stormed over to his daughter and pulled her arm downwards so that her small body fell to the bed. He held her down and slapped her across her face.

“I loved your mother. But now I love Maria because Phoebe is gone! You will learn to love Maria as I do.” He hissed and he left her on the bed, sobbing as he closed the door and joined Maria on the couch.

 

 

 

Author's Note

Chapter one of Aldrose
Criticism wanted please!
Thanks