Chapter 20: I will always protect you

Schwa is finally back, and she stopped their fight in a second.

I didn’t expect any less from her.

After a little arguing, I notice the two Chinese guys bend to carry the idiot inside.

Eh, I guess it’s my turn…

I slightly open the computers room’s door and wave at them to come in.

They’re pretty obedient and quiet.

They follow me to the basement without saying a single word.

It doesn’t displease me, I don’t want to speak with strangers.

I mean, strangers, as in… people I don’t know, I’m not actually racist toward Chinese.

It’s… Schwa who said I shouldn’t speak with strangers.

Schwa isn’t racist, I think.

I open the reinforced door to the cave and switch on the light.

Oh no… He’s here…

The old man is still lying on the operation table.

I run toward him and try to find a solution.

Maybe he’s actually not dead.

I take his pulse… Nothing.

Well, fuck.

“Who is this?” The taller one asks.

“Don’t think about it too much.” I respond, then remove all his intravenous needles and infusions and push him out of the table under the two guys’ bewildered eyes.

The corpse falls down on the floor in a bonk, then I quickly disinfect the table and make a sign toward them.

“Come, lie her here.” I say while tapping on the table with a hand.

They look at each other and whisper before walking toward the table and lay the idiot on it.

Meanwhile, I run to the coat hanger to put my blouse, mask and gloves on.

I come back with my tools, jump on my stool and switch on the spotlights.

“Help me cut her clothes.” I hand the blue one some gloves and scissors.

He looks at them and frowns, then exchange some words with his friend.

I mimic cutting my own clothes with my fingers. “Like this, chop chop chop.”

He makes an “Oh!” and skillfully cuts the bloodstained shirt after putting the gloves on.

Then, I carefully remove the piece of clothes with tweezers and can finally look at the wound.

“Hm…”

The wound is pretty deep, but it doesn’t seem like it damaged any organ, like the knife perfectly avoided it.

According to its location, it should have pierced the large intestine, but for some reason, it seems intact.

What’s, furthermore, awkward is the large number of scars and bruises I count on her belly and abdomen.

Some of them are shaped like crosses or ‘X’ and don’t seem to be made by a knife, but most of them aren’t simple cuts.

The largest one is also the most uncanny because of the bad stitches. It begins a bit under her left armpit and goes all the way to her hand.

How did she get that? It looks so painful.

Eh, it’s not my business. I’ll just properly focus on closing that wound.

“I can handle the rest myself.” I say while making a hand movement to tell them to go.

Yet, they prefer not to move and whisper to each other until the tall one slowly pronounces: “Are… are we not speak… going to speak about dead man?”

 

---

 

My sister loves me.

At least, that’s what she says.

Yet, the way she expresses it is so much different from the anime I watched, that I could tell early on she was abnormal.

She is possessive but also sadistic.

Maybe that pain was the price to pay for her protection.

From the moment our parents died, until my first job, she was always behind me.

She still is, right now…

Always following, always making sure I know she’s there.

Observing, commenting, cursing.

She’s always making sure I don’t slip away from her grasp.

But she wasn’t always like this.

As a child, she was kind and smart, my parents always praised her.

She brought me sweets and watched anime with me.

She said she’ll always protect me.

And it’s true… She always did.

When I was bullied at school, she got scolded for beating boys and girls.

She was already violent.

I heard she was sent back home once because she brought a knife in class.

But my parents weren’t hard on her and acclaimed her courage.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand what they thought.

But it all started after this event.

I learned later that our parents were indebted to a certain mafia.

So, one day, when I was around 10, they kidnapped the both of them… and me.

They missed my sister who was at school at that time, but they couldn’t care less.

They looked like monsters for my child’s brain.

Our three kidnappers locked themselves with us in a hangar and proceeded to torture us.

I don’t remember much of what they did.

All my parents cried about was how their first daughter was blessed for having avoided such fate.

And all I could do was cry.

When they thought they had played enough, they set fire to the hangar.

But they didn’t have enough of me so they pulled me by the hair and threw me into a van.

I didn’t cry for my parents because they didn’t cry for me.

I think my brain shut down.

The next thing I know, my sister was carrying me on her back.

How did she find me? I’ll never know.

She had assassinated the three grown-ups with her small knife.

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At that moment, I really thought that maybe she was blessed by God.

We didn’t have a home anymore, so where was she going?

Walking toward nothingness, we ended up talking.

“****, are you okay?” She asked with a serene voice.

“No.” My voice was shaking and my whole body was in pain. “They are dead.”

“Who cares? You?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

“But they loved you so much.”

“Because someone loves you doesn’t mean you have to love them in return.”

“Am I going to die?”

“No. Never.”

“It hurts.”

“I know.”

“It hurts.”

“I know.”

“It hurts.”

“I know.”

…

“She’s low on blood and her heartbeat is decreasing.”

“What’s her blood type?”

“A+.”

…

“It hurts.”

“I know.”

“Am I going to die?”

“No. Never.”

“Why? How do you know?”

“Because I’m your sister, and I will always protect you.”

“How did you know where we were?”

“I can feel it.”

“What did you do to the monsters?”

“I killed them.”

“How?”

“I’ll show you.”

…

“Same as the old man!”

“What? How would you know?”

“We saved him, remember?”

“No, we didn’t, he’s dead.”

“Whatever, help me!”

…

And then we became homeless.

My sister took care of my wounds and bruises and taught me how to use a knife.

“When dealing with boys, always aim for their dick.”

“Ew, why?”

She swinged her knife under my nose.

“You’re short so it’s easy to aim, and it’s painful as fuck. They’re going to hate it.”

My sister was reliable and always found something to eat.

“Where did you find this basket of vegetables?”

“Shut up and eat or I punch you.”

She sometimes came back with bruises, but I was really scared when she came back soaking with blood.

Sometimes she fought against men, sometimes with stray dogs, and it always ended violently.

She took care of me, so I thought that I was eternally in her debt.

I thought I had to take care of her in return.

But I wasn’t skilled in healing like her, so when I hurt her more, she would scream and beat me or grab my hair until I tear up.

Outside of that, I never met any trouble, I didn’t miss anything, except my anime.

**** was probably defending me all this time.

This suffering she put on me was the price to pay for this comfort.

And I thought maybe we would stay forever like this.

Until one day, she came back in a suit.

…

“You’re holding?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll pump all his blood!”

“I-is it really okay to hm do… do this-it with, do this… dead man… okay?”

…

And thus, we finally left our past.

“From now on, you are DIANA, and I am SIRONA.”

“Where are we going?”

“To our new home.”

“Where is it?”

“Far, far away.”

“I’m cold.”

“I don’t care.”

“What is this smell?”

“The ocean.”

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