Into My Heart

II

What on earth am I doing here?

My thoughts are the exact reflection of my physical position at the verge of knocking on Samantha Mewis' apartment, the little note on my right hand, and my face on the left one. The door continues ringing for a second, before I hear footsteps coming my way. I had no idea why I felt the urge to go back to this lunatic claiming to be my sister, but something in this whole story raised my curiosity level somehow.

When the door opens, Samantha's face lights up: she is in her pyjamas (Scooby-Doo, of course) and doesn't seem bothered that a half-stranger sees her with that on at all. She cracks a smile, before saying:

"Abigail Dahlkemper, the Almighty. You came."

Then, without a warning, she just wraps her arms around me and hold me tight - tighter and closer than I would have permitted, if only she would've asked like a normal person. She then lets me go when she realizes that I have tensed up, and bursts into laughter, mocking me, probably.

Shaking my head, I only say:

"I wanna know more, that's all."

Samantha rolls her eyes, before showing me inside her apartment - or, their apartment rather, according to the second bedroom existing - and following me to the kitchen. The decoration is quite modern, Scandinavian style, but still very cozy. As she starts making us some coffee, I start staring at the photographs hanging on the walls: the girl obviously has a ginger boyfriend, while she also has a lot of picture with another blonde with bright, blue eyes. I stop at a specific photograph: one with dad, younger, a bright smile on his face, and two blonde babies in his arms. He seemed so happy.

As I am still staring, Sam comes back with two cups of coffee, and stops right where I am standing. She takes a look at the photograph and smirks - nostalgia, maybe?

"That was my sister Kristie's second birthday - the day my mother found out my dad had been cheating on her with another woman, who was now pregnant with you."

I suddenly feel uneasy.

"Bastard" I mutter.

"Well" Sam says, handing me my cup of coffee, "he came around. I mean, my mother moved on and found herself the love of her life. She and dad are good pals."

I want to throw up: me who thought that my father was a good man, only loving my mother and being there for his only child, me. Reality is totally other, but somehow the girl standing in front of me, my half-sister, doesn't seem to be mad at him the way I am starting to get. 

Frowning, she adds:

"You know, you've been gone for a long time: maybe you should talk with him about that."

Obviously, the not-that-friendly-at-first-sight me just thought it'd be great to retort: 

"Yeah, and maybe you should mind your own business."

"Ouch, that's rude, even for you." Sam just lets out, before turning her back on me and bursting into laughter. Before I could ask her what made her say that or laugh, she adds: "Dad told us everything about you, including your reluctance to strangers. It's fine: you'll get used to it if you stick around for a while like you said you would."

"Speaking of that" I say, finding convenient to change the subject rather than her confronting me about my behavior, "I should really get going: I need to find a job in order to pay for my apartment, otherwise you'll see me on the streets."

As I am turning around, Sam holds me back.

When I turn around, I really want to snap at her - but I know it's not against her than I am angry, and not even at our dad who just hid from me that he had another life all drawn for him and never told me about it, leaving me with my remorse. So I don't.