The World That Was Mine (Part I & II)

Part II: VI

"Sorry," I signed quickly, turning towards Logan, whose hands remained firmly on my shoulders, keeping me in place like an anchor in space.

Logan shook his head, clearly rejecting my attempt at reconciliation and nodded towards Finley and Emma standing on the stairs. "Go up the stairs. Pick rooms." He said, a blatant attempt to distract me from the situation, as I'd once overheard-overheard being relative, considering I couldn't hear much of anything, even when I had my hearing aids in. Most of what I heard was when they thought I wasn't listening or couldn't hear them-Teo tell Logan to do, when I 'had an episode'.

I hated that term. It made me feel like an anomaly. Like I had already lost what little sanity I had left. I hadn't told Teo that though. The worm doesn't turn unless it has to, and if you ask me, that is almost never.

"Izzy?" Emma's voice cut through the beat of silence that followed Logan's instructions. All of my brothers, with the exception of Tyler, were now watching me. I was all too aware of how quickly the room had filled. They all watched me, like they always did, they all waited for me to respond, like what I said or did next would mean something.

"Okay," I signed quickly, pulling out of Logan's grasp, swallowing the increasing panic and discomfort rising in my throat and scurrying past the onslaught of people and gazes filling the room. My cheeks were red with embarrassment, but I tried not to let it show as I followed Emma up the stairs and towards the hallway, where I assumed the bedrooms were. A clump of emotion settled inside my throat but I shoved down what I could, hoping it would all disperse soon, like it usually did.

Emma was rambling about something as we walked down the hall. Something about how things had been done in years past. How me being here changed things. I didn't tune in to what my sister was saying. I didn't see much use in doing so. My eyes darted around the house as we walked, taking in the clean, simple decorations lining the walls, making me once again think of the home magazines that'd once littered the floor of my Brinley apartment. I tried to ignore the bitter wave of nostalgia rushing through me at the unpleasant memory.

"Me, you, and Finn are gonna share a room this year." This caught my attention enough to turn towards my sister, who slowed to a stop in front of one of the final doors in the long hallway. She was grinning again, the excitement and joy resettling in her features. In one swift motion, she pushed the door open revealing a crisp, pristine looking bedroom that looked like Martha Stewart herself had had a hand in decorating it.

The walls were clean and white, adorned with images of the mountain that I could see peeking out from behind the matching white curtains draped in front of the window. A desk a dresser sat on one side of the room, looking so perfect, I feared I would ruin them if I wasn't careful. But those things weren't the first to catch my attention. No, the first and only things I registered in that beautiful, perfect, picturesque room were the two twin sized beds sitting in the middle of the room.

Two beds. Three people.

The solution was clear. And it made my skin crawl with discomfort and anxiety.

"Where will all three of us sleep?" I signed, already knowing the answer. Emma shrugged. "I guess you and I can share a bed. Or you and Fin," I inhaled sharply at the tail end of her suggestion, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I've been told I'm pretty annoying to share a bed with. Apparently people don't like it when you kick them in their sleep." She rolled her eyes, flashing a small, amused grin in my direction. I didn't reciprocate. I didn't even try.

"Me and Finely?" I signed shakily.

Emma nodded. Perhaps my fear was more well hidden than I'd give myself credit for. Or maybe she was choosing to ignore it. But either way, she didn't seem to let it bother her. "Yup, I guess so." She shrugged, turning back towards the other side of the room, and away from me. A lump formed in my throat.