Catherine Howland:

^^^[14 years old]^^^

My heart shattered for the second time on that autumn afternoon, as I watched the leaves fall from the tree outside my window. My gaze was drawn to them, their orange hue, and their dry tips.

I preferred to watch them rather than my brother's gaze, which was intended not for me but for our new neighbor.

Amy had moved in with her parents the day before, and just like today, I witnessed it through my bedroom window.

She stepped out of the silver car, wearing a t-shirt, a denim shirt, and a skirt that reached her thighs.

Her black hair, with its beautiful waves, was the first thing that caught my attention, but I was not the only one.

Landon was watching her too.

Why did he have to be at home right now?

After he started college, we talked less, although it was to be expected. He had entered a new stage of his life, meeting new people, and embracing new responsibilities.

I missed him so much it hurt, but I was content with the brief messages we exchanged at night, just before my bedtime, and yes, I have a bedtime.

Mom and Dad can be quite strict about adhering to the house rules.

She also noticed my brother's presence, and I became a firsthand witness to the connection that sparked between them.

Do I believe in love at first sight?

I would say yes, because whatever was in that exchange of glances was the catalyst for them to fall hopelessly in love with each other.

It was that simple; it only took a second to find each other and know they belonged together.

Something I would never have.

Landon would never look at me the way he looked at her that first time, not even when I'm old enough because we are siblings, and always will be.

I will always be his little sister.

And he will always be my big brother.

"What are you looking at?" My mother bursts into my room without knocking on the door, she never does, and gets angry with me when I lock it.

I shift my gaze away from the window, letting the leaves fall gently in an almost beautiful motion, diverting my attention from Lan and Amy, who have been talking in our front yard for the last hour about something that's kept them very engaged.

My heart twists in my chest, pleading for a minute's respite, it's a shame this isn't going to stop soon.

"The leaves take on such a beautiful color in autumn, I was thinking of preserving some."

She doesn't seem pleased with my response, but she's mom, she's never happy when it comes to me.

"Do something better with your time and clean up the mess your precious leaves have made." She orders, turning her back to leave the room, muttering, "I'll have that stupid tree cut down."

I want to tell her that the tree has been there since before our house, it must be at least 150 years old, but again and as always, I don't have the courage to contradict mom.

I go downstairs after grabbing a bag and a rake to gather the fallen leaves from the tree.

When I step out the front door, I catch Amy and Lan's attention, which only makes me blush.

"Is that your sister?" Amy asks. "She's so cute and small. How old is she?"

"She's 14 years old," Lan replies, looking at me, giving me one of his warm brotherly smiles.

Unlike my parents, Lan has always been proud of me.

Maybe he does it because he knows I don't have mom and dad's attention, so he's chosen to be a good big brother, the best anyone could wish for.

I don't deserve his love.

I have tainted his pure and kind love with my wrongful affection.

I can't bear the pressure in my chest when I become aware of the illness tormenting my heart.

I am sick and afraid, afraid I won't find a cure for my illness, afraid of living with this pain until it's too late, too late to be saved from the darkness.

There is no light to guide my way when I cling to this impossible love.

A sick love.

If I could tear it from my chest, I would, without hesitation, not because it's difficult to bear, but because it would bring horror and revulsion to his gaze if he ever found out.

Landon can never know, he can never find out that I've been harboring this love longer than I can remember.

I don't want his image of me to be tarnished by my illness, I want to remain his beloved sister, even if that's all I will ever get from my big brother.

Catherine Howland:

The first time my heart shattered wasn't precisely because I had fallen for my brother; it was rather due to Landon's decision to move into the university dorms, meaning I could no longer see him daily.

Ever since then, I feel like the wound in my chest hasn't properly healed, ripping open anew each time I hear his voice, or feel his hands on my head, stroking me when he visits, making me feel cherished.

I curl up in my bed, checking my phone when I see a message from him.

I couldn't see him earlier because my mother punished me after dinner; I didn't have an appetite, so I didn't eat much, which resulted in her making me wash and dry the dishes, then I had to do my homework, and only now have I had the chance to grab my phone.

Lan: Your birthday’s coming up. Be good and tell me what you want as a gift.

My heart races like a giddy fool, prompting a smile and a muffled squeal into my pillow.

I love him so much, so very much.

My love spills out from my tiny heart, inflicting small cuts that will ache in the long run.

Me: Hi :)

Me: Just saw your message.

Me: Answering your question, I don't really need anything, but there's a book signing by my favorite author. If you could take me, I'd be grateful for the rest of my life.

Lan: When’s the signing?

My heart skips a beat seeing him online, not expecting a prompt reply. We usually talk around ten at night, but now it's close to midnight.

Me: Hey! It's on my birthday, isn’t that perfect? My favorite author is on a signing tour in the city and will be around when I turn 15. I've always wanted to meet him in person, he’s written over 30 bestsellers. He's the best in his genre, although most of his other books are considered adult content, so I haven’t had the chance to read them yet. Do you think our parents would find out if I read them anyway? It’s just that they deal with heavier topics, like violence and human trafficking – It's not about sex! I would understand if they were, but they’re not. Anyway, mom and dad wouldn’t get it.

Lan: I’ll take you.

Lan: And Cath, you can read whatever you want. They can't dictate every second of your life; don’t let them or you’ll be finished.

Me: I know. ♡

Me: Mom and dad can be a bit intense.

Lan: Intense is an understatement.

That they are, but they're still our parents.

Mom and dad can't be perfect.

Me: Can I ask about Amy?

I want to delete the message a second after I send it. I've never asked him about his past girlfriends, but then again, I've never seen him so intrigued by someone before.

Lan: You’re already asking.

Me: You know what I'm trying to ask.

Lan: What about her?

Lan: Don’t you like her?

Me: Impossible! She's wonderful, so kind and gentle. She helped me with my shopping bags when we bumped into each other at the supermarket.

Lan: It’s good to know you two get along, would’ve been awkward otherwise.

Me: Why do you say that?

Lan: We started dating a few weeks ago.

My heart stops, as does my breathing and my blood flow.

Lan: We’re going to tell our parents after seeing how things go between us. So don’t say anything to mom and dad.

It was natural for it to happen; he had mentioned it to me multiple times since their first encounter. They shared that chemistry, that connection that lovers who end up spending their lives with their beloved have.

My eyes well up with unshed tears, pressing my phone to my chest as reading his message opens a fissure in my heart.

I need to find a way to piece together the fragments of my fragile, foolish heart.

Will it ever stop hurting?

I return to my phone screen when I hear another message come in.

Lan: Cath?

Me: I'm happy for you both!

Me: Sorry, I have to go. There's school tomorrow, and I promised Fanny I’d pick her up so we could go together. ♡

Me: Good night, Lan :)

Lan: Good night, dolly.

Dolly = Little doll. It's his nickname for me, because he says I am too small and cute, just like all the dolls I had as a child.

I set the phone beside my pillow, stifling a scream into it so as not to wake up mom and dad.

My heart aches, so much so that I would do anything to make it stop.

Perhaps it would be less painful with the support of someone, someone like Fanny, who's my best friend, the only true friend I have, but...

How do you tell a friend that you're hopelessly in love with your brother?

It's sick and it's disgusting, something that should have never happened, but somehow it did.

This is life’s punishment for me, for being vile and desecrating Lan's brotherly love and care with my filthy desires for something more.

Catherine Howland:

The relationship between Landon and Amy remains a secret to both their families, with plans to disclose it after they’ve been out together for a season, to see how things between them will unfold.

I believe they will be fine.

Lan and Amy seem like soulmates, it's as if they were destined to meet; I can see it in their eyes, hear it in that special tone of voice they reserve only for each other, as if they’re speaking to their other half.

Amy is sweet and gentle, an outgoing girl with a heart of gold. She’s always gracious when she comes over with her mother, who has become a good friend to my own mom.

My mom thinks Amy is perfect too.

I overheard a conversation between her and our neighbor; they both agree on uniting their daughter with my brother.

They'll jump for joy when they find out Lan and Amy have already taken a step ahead and are now in a relationship.

Everyone seems quite happy about them as a potential couple, even I am glad, I really am, I am very glad.

I'm happy because my brother is happy, but then an ugly sob escapes my lips, I can't stop it, I can't stop the anguish.

I drag my nails across my chest, scratching my skin in a futile search for relief, but the internal pain is sharper, so intense that I plead for help to no one in particular.

My heart bleeds for Landon and aches unbearably at not being able to find solace in him.

This has been the case ever since I learned about them, since that message on that night a week ago.

My mind doesn’t help, tormenting me with images of them together, happy and in love, a vision I’ll never have because I had to fall for the wrong man.

It hurts, the dreams I still keep buried deep within my broken heart.

The illusion of a maybe that will never happen pains me.

I have cried every night since receiving that message, cried until there's nothing but pain left, with swollen, red eyes.

Then my bedroom door opens without warning, revealing mom in the doorway, holding a belt in her hands, her expression dark.

The only light that illuminates my room filters in through the hallway.

I sit on my bed, wiping away my tears, and feeling my dry lips as I speak to her.

"Mom?" I say, almost in a whisper.

"I saw the result of your exam, Catherine."

"Yes, I... I got an 8, I'm sorry."

The highest score is a 10, but mom doesn't tolerate anything less than a 9.

"Sorry?" She’s upset.

"I didn’t study enough, it won’t happen again."

Usually, I always score a 10 at school, I try very hard to meet her expectations, but these days I haven't been feeling well and couldn't focus much on my classes.

"No, it won’t happen again. I will make sure this is the first and last time you disappoint me in this way." Her words are cold and void of warmth.

Mom approaches my bed, pulling away the blankets that cover my body, and strikes my legs with the belt.

I feel the pain on the second hit when she strikes again. I bring my hands to my legs, right where she hit, trying to soothe the abused skin, but then she strikes again, and this time my hands are injured.

I'm crying and begging her to stop, promising I’ll do better at school, but she doesn’t listen. She never does, she never listens and it leaves me so frustrated.

"You’re grounded until further notice." She strikes me again. "Forget about going out, you won't be doing it." Another hit. "You will go to school and then straight home." And another. "Are you listening?! You’re not allowed to go anywhere else, I’ll tell your brother he can’t take you out."

"But it's my birthday." I shouldn’t have complained, I shouldn’t have when I know she hates it, hates hearing me when she’s angry.

She drops the belt onto the floor to slap my face, her long, red nails scratching the skin on my cheek.

"You’re grounded, Catherine. Bad girls don't get rewarded by celebrating their birthdays."

She has never done it, never celebrated it.

It’s Fanny’s family who has, it’s my friend’s family that has celebrated all my birthdays since we became friends.

Mom leaves the room, closing the door and leaving my bedroom engulfed in darkness.

My legs hurt, my hands and face too, but what hurts more is knowing I won’t see Fanny on my birthday and that I will miss that outing with my brother.

That excursion to the signing of my favorite author was the only thing that could battle the demons tormenting me inside.

Now I’m unprotected against them, an easy prey for those thoughts that have started to increase with frightening speed.