Liliane: Orange

Friday, December 15 2215, 02:13, Canberra, the Commonwealth of Australia

It’s raining. Eerie sounds of wind whistling accompany the random pattering of big and small raindrops hitting onto the windowsill. I get up and draw the curtains. The world, it seems, is just a shade of black. Lightning strikes. I catch a glimpse of a small figure huddled next to a dying tree across the street, trembling against the cold.

I creep across my room and tiptoe down the long, gloomy hallway, heart pounding. Sweat forms on my forehead, the way they do when I move in the dark. Eyes studiously avoiding the shadows cast by the lamp above, I make my way to Hayley’s room as silently as possible.

Sitting on the windowsill, staring out the window is my sister. She is curled into a ball, hands clutching a Hello Kitty cushion.

“They say I have one week left,” she whispers.

In a few strides I am by her side. I sit on the windowsill, facing my sister. She is leaning against the wall, face expressionless, hair loose and untidy. I stare at her tired eyes, her pale complexion and reach out to tuck back a strand of her white-blond hair.

“You’re not going to die,” I say. She looks away and gives no response.

  shake my head. “Hayley,” I say, louder. “It’s going to be alright.”

Her head swivels around. “I won’t. The doctors said so. They’re right, I know; I can feel it.” Her voice is weak but firm.

“Don’t think like that,” I hiss, trying to believe in what I said. “Don’t give up.” Tears slide down my cheeks silently, and I brush them away discreetly.

She sighs, a sound that makes my heart break. “Who are you trying to convince? I’m sick. I’m hopeless. When I die, you’ll have everything. Dad will give you all my things. It will be good for you, I promise.” She leans forward. “It’s going to be hard. There will be a war. But things will be better after I’m gone.”

We watch the rain fall. Thunder booms in a distance.

She swings her legs gently onto the floor and gazes up at me. “Paint me a picture of my life. Give me something happy"something to hold on while I go.”

I nod briefly, managing a mirthless smile. Then I get up and head for my room, where I’ll paint the blue skies, the shining rainbow, the green grass and the glowing faces of smiling children.

 ~

This is me. Liliane Auburn. Tall, skinny with dirty blond hair that never seems to cooperate. Impulsive, distressed and sick of life. Daughter of the cold-hearted chairman of the Australian Communist Party, and his wife, a drunk. Sister of a sweet 12-year-old girl dying of pediatric leukodystrophies.

Kids my age are all bent on getting into a good university, landing themselves a good job, and finding a perfect partner. It’s normal. We’re seventeen. It’s time we rock away in this world. But I don’t want to. What’s the point of all these luxuries, all these opportunities, when someone you love is dying at home?

Five years ago, before Hayley was diagnosed and my mom got addicted to alcohol, everything was fine. I was living the life everyone envied. I had everything, you see, a big mansion, stables, riches, the latest fashion, literally everything. It’s funny, I think, that I didn’t realize how pitiful this was. My parents have never loved me. All they ever wanted was to conjure an image of a happy, supportive family"something they desperately needed to gain support from the people in and out of the country. Everything I had, everything they gave me, was despairingly materialistic. And in return, I would have to act like we were a tightly-knit family.

Five years ago, I entered Hale College, the top secondary school in the country known for its students’ excellent performance in arts, music and sports. It’s a boarding school"my parents didn’t have to take care of me"situated at the top of Hale Mountain. I remember skiing down the slope with my friends in winter; hiking along the mountains and nearly getting lost in the woods; sunbathing at the beach and swimming in the clear waters… The days at Hale College are my happiest days ever.

Good things don’t last long.

Last year, Hayley was diagnosed with pediatric leukodystrophies, a very rare and not well understood disease. The resulting deficiency of myelin in her brain causes multiple sclerosis. There is no cure, and victims of pediatric leukodystrophies are expected to live for one year or less.

I was devastated. Hayley is the sole person in the world that loved me for who I was. My world is a constant shade of orange, the symbol of deceit and uncertainty, and only she is capable of adding a few drops of color to my life. My parents were also devastated, but for a different reason. Having a sick daughter meant a lot more work and time. So I had to drop out of school, get a private tutor, and become Hayley’s all time guardian. It wasn’t that I was unwilling, but it just wasn’t fair.

~

Friday, December 15 2215, 10:05, Canberra, the Commonwealth of Australia

I wake with a jolt and come to a sitting position. An unpacked color palette, a canvas and dipped paintbrushes are laid untidily on the floor next to me. A trickle of sunlight slips through the curtains to shine on the clock. 10:05 am.

I creep out my room and glide across the hallway smoothly and quietly, taking care not to wake my sister. From the stairs a hushed voice can be heard from the living room downstairs. My father, speaking to my mother.

  “We can’t let Liliane find out,” he is saying. “She’ll stop us, and then God knows what she’ll do.”

I stop in my tracks and stay very still.

My mother sighs. “Hayley’s our daughter. You can’t do this to her.”

My father lowers his voice. “She’s going to die anyway. But I can’t wait anymore. The election is only six months away.”

My heart races. “I know I can’t control you. Just tell me how you’re going to do it.”

I hear the shuffle of footsteps as my father edges closer to my mother. I strain to make out my father’s last words.

“No. Liliane should be awake now. I’ll tell you sometime later.” With that my parents leave the room.

I stand where I am, stunned. My legs feel numb and my mind goes blank. I can hear my heart pounding, all ready to jump out and break through my veins. It’s impossible. My parents can’t kill my sister.

Then it hits me. My father will do anything to get elected as President. It’s his wish, his destiny, his only goal in life. He’s been preparing for this election, which happens only once in every fifteen years, ever since I could remember. For years, Hayley’s condition has prevented him from venturing far to gain support and do more preparation. Now he hasn’t got much time left.

Which also means, Hayley hasn’t got much time left. Or has she?