Her Name Was Madi: The Sister
Chapter OneHer name was Madeleine Rourke, and she was victorious. She had beaten that which could not be beaten, and she had come out of it alive. She was victorious, but alone. She had defeated her enemy at the cost of what was most dear to her, and now she was on her own. She was back to her average life as an average girl, and back to being no one special. She had almost forgotten about the strange events of February, save for the fact that her giant cat still stuck around her. Her books were her escape, and music kept her sane...or as sane as she'd ever be.
Oh, Madi, please stop crying...
It was May 30th, 2009, and Madi was doing the same thing she'd done every day since she'd gone home. She reluctantly awoke from a painstaking dream about Tony, even though he was never really visible, just...there. It seemed to be the only place she could ever shed a tear. She sat in front of her easel for hours, simply staring at the white of a single canvas, motionless and silent. She hadn't spoken much since she had returned to her own time, and now that it was once again summer, she retreated even farther into her thick shield of indifference. She had taken up the hobby of painting quite suddenly when she'd returned, and she found herself to be quite good at it. However, she could only paint one thing: Tony. She would paint what others would see as a perfect likeness of him as far as they knew, but what she would see as not quite. She'd add little brush strokes here and there, until the tumultuous anger in her heart had her practically throwing paint across the canvas in angry slashes. Then, into the trash the painting would go, along with all the rest.
Oh, how the very mention of his name made her heart wither all the more in her empty chest and her fading scars burn like they were fresh. Her tears seemed to have stayed behind with Tony, as she could no longer shed even a single drop of salty water, even in joy. She'd searched and searched for his grave, thinking just maybe that would fix her, but it was nowhere to be found. She wondered if anyone had even noticed his disappearance once she'd left.
"Madi?" a familiar voice said questioningly. Her mindless gaze shifted to her large bedroom window, seeing a pair of yellow feline eyes, each as large as a golf ball, peering at her.
LT's eyes had abruptly and permanently changed in color when they had traveled back to her room, and somehow, she was glad of it. The absence of those glacier blue eyes made the trembling flashbacks and screaming nightmares easier on her. She raised her eyebrows in question and replied quietly, "Yeah, LT?" He went through his daily routine of asking her how she was feeling, if there was anything he could do, etc, etc. Her reply was always the same, as much as she appreciated his concern. He merely asked every day out of habit, and because her father had requested it of him for the time being. For a few moments, he made feeble attempts at conversation, and, seeing as her mood hadn't changed at all since they'd last talked, he went on his way. LT spent most of his time prowling through the woods behind Madi's house, climbing trees and chasing small animals (merely in fun, for he was too picky to eat anything but Madi's table scraps), knowing he wasn't exactly welcome in her town. Her hand raised ever so slightly in a silent goodbye as he disappeared from her line of sight. Seeing as she was getting absolutely nowhere with her painting, Madi rose from her small stool and headed for her kitchen.
The way Madi's house was set up made it so that she had to pass by both her mother and brother on the way to the fridge. Her mother had asked her about studying abroad when she'd returned, and once her mother noticed her change in attitude, the questions had shifted to the ever suspicious are you okay? and did anything happen to you over there in Europe? which basically meant she suspected that her daughter had taken only three months to plummet from her pedestal of angelic obedience into the fiery depths of hell and unhealthy addictions. In her mind, Madi had assured that she was unhealthily addicted, oh yes, but not to some illegal substance. The past was an unhealthy place to dwell, that was true, but she didn't care. It kept her functioning well enough, if that's what you could call it. Moving her hair from her eyes, Madi trudged through the living room to get to the kitchen.
"Geez, Madi, I don't remember you looking that bad since your junior prom," her brother taunted. She didn't bother even glancing in his direction, seeing as it would only encourage him, and so continued shuffling towards the fridge. Damien took this as an insult, watching her approach the icebox and waiting until she seemed deeply engrossed in searching for something edible before pitching a rather hard rubber ball at the back of her head. Swallowing a number of vulgar things she could have told the eleven-year-old, Madi grabbed a cup of jello and returned to her room, which she pretty much hadn't left since she'd come back.