Introduction:
Beauty never comes without a price. Irene, sweet Irene, knows that all to well. From the day of her birth, she knew all of my family’s problems came down to her. A weak thing. A delicate thing. A dangerous thing.
Waking, I saw the white sheetrock of the ceiling. On the bed next to me, Irene was curled in a fetal position, blonde waves in an array around her, the soft pale skin flushed.
Her eyes fluttered open. How did I wake her?
“Goo’ Morning Opie.” She said sleepily. She pushed herself out of bed, and toddled over to my bed, before pushing herself on and hugging me.
“Opie, are we gonna hafta moob again?” She asked, then I noticed the small tears that rimmed her eyes.
“I don’t know, baby.” I whispered, my own salty tears began to sting my eyes. They threatened to fall.
I gave my sister a quick hug, before getting up to change out of my night gown. I grabbed my sun dress picked for today, and hauled myself to the bathroom.
After changing, Irene had gone down stairs to, and was sitting on the counter, staring at me when I came in.
“Waffle?” She pleaded.
“Sure...” I found the toastable ones in the fridge, and popped four in our toaster. After a couple silent minutes, they popped up. Grabbing paper plates, I put some table syrup on them, and some butter, I gave Irene hers and dug into mine.
“Opie?” She asked a moment later.
I quickly swallowed. “Yes?”
“Why is there a creepy man in the backyard?”
