Olivia

• Shirine Nehme, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2022

I know it bothered my mother when I didn't listen to her.
She used to worry, her already alabaster skin would pale, almost translucent, everytime she looked at me. The irate frizz in her hair mimicked the shaking of her head and tutting of her tongue.

I know she sees herself in me, that's why she liked Olivia so much. Olivia always had a certain demeanour everyone liked. What I didn’t have in my pale grey eyes, Olivia had vibrant cobalt blue, a whole abstract of azure and flecks of teal. The freckles that brandished her cheeks created constellations that were awe inspiring and studied. Her neat porcelain teeth were almost a perfect white. Olivia’s perfection was all natural. All her. Olivia’s hair had an effortless sheen to it, a soft lustre. Her raven black hair followed behind her, lifting and tilting in the wind to really emphasise her power. She somehow still holds power over everyone. Even me … I guess.

I couldn’t even hate her, though I really, really wanted to. I think most people really, really wanted to. But then she would flash you those meticulously straight teeth and the charming dimples in her cheeks. If her smile, her hair and her eyes weren’t enough to enchant you the trickle of soft notes when she laughed definitely would. She was like a lighthouse, luring sailors into the hidden rocks beneath.

It really is my mother’s fault though. She’ll deny it but my mother always hated me. What I did to Olivia just rationalised how she felt about me. Olivia was back, it just reminded my mother of how much I lacked.

In my mind the feeling of water thrashed out, washing over my consciousness. I couldn’t hear over the bombardment of waves crashing onto me and sweeping me under them. The icy waves stabbed my skin and dragged their nails down my back, leaving harsh chills down my spine. I tried to repel and kick against the current. Until I stopped resisting. I welcomed the blissful oblivion that drowning offered and sank into its embrace. Violently, an ear splitting scream reverberated in my head.

I had barely realised what I had done until I had already done it. The waves broke, clearing my vision. I could finally see the rings of crimson under my nails glaring back at me. My body moved on its own accord and I crouched down to Olivia, her eyes, those Ceylon sapphire eyes, stared blankly back at me, bloodshot bolts struck outward from her irises. Searching for a pulse, for a breath… I was frozen in place and the soft waves came crashing back with my mother’s screams.

I meant it when I said I really, really did try to hate Olivia and the guilt rose threatening to drag me under the currents I had just escaped.

It’s okay though. I’m now somewhere it won’t happen again.
It won’t happen again.