I lazed around on the couch in the summer heat. Most people my age would be out spending their break doing something fun—and I'd like the be there with them. I texted my friends, swapping plans and times, but the approach of my mother drew my attention away. She looked contemplative, though a bit annoyed.
"You know, your older sister has gone out today," she mused.
There was an implicit understanding that this was unusual. Emma was the reclusive type—ever since she graduated high school, she's been content to just hole up in her room, where she spends most of her time drawing or idling away at her computer. She was always a bit eccentric, but in recent months she's grown cold and avoidant, deigning not to speak with the rest of the family unless necessary.
"She went out? What's she doing?" I asked.
"Heaven knows. I hope she's made herself a friend, but she's probably just out to buy something," she resigned. "But, while she's out, ${name}, could you do me a favor?"
I cocked my head. "Sure, what is it?"
"Clean her room!" she exclaimed. "If she isn't going to clean it, someone should. I swear, I smell something foul from in there."
I began to protest, but Mom hurried me up the stairs with a garbage bag in hand before I could mount any resistance.
"Be sure to change her sheets, too!" she shouted as she left around the hallway corner.
With a shake of my head and a sigh, I opened the door to a room I haven't seen in ages—and it was worse than I imagined.
Clothes of all sorts were strewn about: on the bed, on the floor, a sock on the curtain rod somehow. Many were stained with Cheetos dust, spilled drinks, and who-knows-what else. Half-drunken cans of off-brand soda and energy drinks I've never heard of covered the floor like weeds. There was a coat of dust on any surface that didn't house some kind of pop culture memorabilia, and her posters featuring boy bands and otome anime were starting to peel off. And that was just what I saw at first-glance.
Nevertheless, I braved the menagerie of smells and got to work. I filled a surprising number of bags with her garbage, started a wash cycle for her clothes, and changed the sheets. Finally able to see the floor, I thoroughly vacuumed it. Unfortunately there were a few stains I wasn't able to scrub out—I may need some industrial equipment for that. I dusted her shelves, stuck her posters back up, and threw back her curtains to let some long-needed sunshine into the place. I didn't do a perfect job, but it's a far cry from the festering quagmire it was before. Satisfied with myself, I reclined back on her desk chair—but something caught my eye.
On her computer was a folder open titled 'Stories', with files like 'Stranded with ${name} on a desert island'. 'Boy Wonder, Super-${name}, to the Rescue!' '${name} the Vampire's Forbidden Love.' 'Lust Unbound: ${name}'s Secret!' Files titled with... my name.
But, it's probably just a coincidence. They're probably just fanfiction about a character with my name, I thought. That's all it could be, right?
I shouldn't be snooping around her computer, anyway. I know I wouldn't want my family members to see some of the stuff I say to my friends. I turned away from the screen, and admired the now-clean room. But then, I realized I missed something—I hadn't cleaned the closet. Not wanting to leave a job unfinished, I threw open the closet door, ready for another mess—but what I saw caused my heart to skip a beat.
The wall was dotted with pictures cut from yearbooks and photographs. Pictures of me. Not only that, but there were drawings, too. Not just ordinary drawings; some were... perverse, and definitely not subjects that a sister should be drawing about her younger brother. And as if it were a centerpiece to it all, there was a crude, human-like effigy made of clay sat upon a platform. I didn't want to admit it, but that little figure was probably supposed to be me.
Did Emma... harbor some secret, twisted desire for me? I wanted to believe this was some sort of prank, like I was intended to find it all, but this was beyond the scope of a mere joke. Nobody was meant to see this. So, maybe I'll just... turn around and forget I ever saw it. I mean, there are worse things, right? I spun around, ready to hopefully blank my mind of all this, but there she was.
Emma stared down at me through her wide-framed spectacles, her long, dandruff-speckled ginger hair framing her freckled face. Her baggy, emerald eyes stared through me like knives. Her face lacked any emotion—no fear, no anger, no shock, not even some twisted joy. I didn't know what to do, and a thick silence permeated the room like a fog.