#[ i left some parts v ambiguous so idk if i want to necessarily tag something that might not come through??? ]

[vuulpecula]

anonymouse inquired forever ago: ⚥ - … My muse’s sibling 

send me a symbol and i will write a drabble about my muse from the point of view of... | accepting.  ➝ ⚥ - my muse’s sibling. 

      "She has to be lying,” Kyla repeated for the seventh time since returning from her most recent bridal appointment. Her mother had accompanied her as she had for her last three marriages -- the fourth one’s the charm, right? “There I was, standing in the most gorgeous Olga Malyarova, a limited edition I might add, and she drops a bombshell like that on me?! Can you believe it, darling?” 

      “And what was this bombshell,” her fianceé sighed. A good two hours in and his soon to be wife hadn’t given him the slightest detail on what had thrown her into such a mood. By the way she tore through boxes of old photos and considering the conversation had to do with her mother, he figured it had to do with her mysterious family. Kyla paused in her search and recounted in shocking detail everything that had happened during her time at the bridal salon. 

      “You really should think about inviting your sister,” Nessa suggested after the first two dresses were declared solid no’s. She would not suggest the girl’s father be invited as well, her husband in name only.        “But she’s always so sullen, mama, do you not remember my first wedding? She sulked around the whole evening and she looked like she was about to cry in every photo. I do not need that on my special day! The attention should be on me, not my sad, lonely sister. If she wants to come, she needs a brighter attitude -- it’s no wonder she hasn’t married yet.” Kyla tossed a perfectly curled tress of hair over her shoulder, gazing at herself in the mirror.        “Be nice,” her mother chided. Kyla did not miss the pill she snuck into her mouth soon after, swallowing it back with the complimentary champagne they were given. “Your sister has gone through a lot, it is hard for her to -- “ She swallowed her words as quickly as she had swallowed her pill.        “She what, mama? I grew up with her, we both went through a lot. Papa was never the kind one,” there were more than a few times she received a hard slap upon her cheek for returning far past curfew. “I turned out just fine, what’s her excuse?” She was being hateful, she knew, but she wanted to manipulate her mother into speaking whatever clouded on her expression. What juicy family secrets she might’ve missed out on after leaving with her first husband.       Nessa shook her head fiercely. “You do not know, Kyla, you do not know what your father was capable of.”        “Oh, you mean the killing, the drugs, the guns? I was not so stupid back then, mama, I knew what papa did for a living. I knew where our money came from.” Nessa blanched.        “You do not know what he did to your sister.” The whole repulsive truth came out, no matter how many little pills her mother swallowed nor how many times she pressed her lipsticked lips to the gold-rimmed champagne flute, it would not wash away the acidic taste in her mouth. Kyla gawked. She caused a scene. Demanding they leave immediately, terminating the time slot her future husband had paid handsomely for. She could not stand to be in the same room with her mother any longer, not with her lying through her teeth. The worst part was, Nessa looked like she actually believed the lies she was spewing. 

      “Are you so sure she was lying,” her fianceé questioned gently. Kyla found the pictures she was looking for. All faded shots from a life in Russia from various stages of childhood. Most were from before Fox was born, her mother obsessing over her first-born child. Near the bottom, though, they were all stuck together. She thumbed over one, peering at the two girls standing on a bridge overlooking the Neva. 

      “Of course, as depressing as Fox is now, she was always a happy kid. I don’t ever remember a time when she wasn’t laughing. I cannot believe that she would be living through what my mother has said and I would not have seen it -- she would’ve told me.” Yet, looking down at those two girls, her sister was not smiling. She moved to the next photo, no smile. Again and again and again she searched, but in every single photograph they had together, her sister was staring blankly at the camera. Even the shadow of a smile that sometimes appeared did not reach her eyes. Sad eyes. Lonely eyes. Helpless eyes. 

      Digging through the small pile, there was only one photo, a polaroid, that held Fox as the sole subject. Kyla had taken it herself on the day she left their family’s apartment. “Here, you see,” she exclaimed, but she did not move to show him. Instead, she stared and stared at the smile on her sister’s face. It was forced. She could almost feel the strain through the glossy surface. There were tears in her sister’s eyes and tracks down both her cheeks. It could not be true. This could not be the only evidence she had left. 

      “No, I remember taking her photo. I remember dressing her up, doing her makeup, we were laughing. She looked like an old film star, walking around in heels three times too big for her feet.” Those photos were missing from her collection. “I swear, I remember her happy, I remember her -- “ But she didn’t, not really. 

      “Our father, he was sick, he is sick,” why was she defending him? “He would not have done that,” the evidence was still in her hands. The bruises peeking out from clothes too loose for her too-thin frame. Her body language, standing just far enough away from everything and everyone that it could not touch her. Even with Kyla’s arms thrown around her, Fox seemed to shrink herself into the background, as if she did not want to be seen. As if she was ashamed. 

      “Mother’s memory is going, she’s been off for years -- it’s all those pills she takes.” Her mother had allegedly known and had done nothing for years. If it was true, she was just as much to blame, but it could not be true. “It cannot be true. I would’ve noticed, I would’ve seen...” Kyla thought hard to the years just before she left. There was a large gap between her and her sister, she was already blossoming into her early twenties when Fox had still not outgrown the gangliness of childhood. Fox did smile for her. She remembered her squealing with delight on their vacation to Lake Luga in the summer, she remembered her grinning around ice creams and freshly baked bread, her constant curiosity with the cosmetics that Kyla often brought home, the way her eyes glittered as she pulled out new dresses. She had chosen to remember those and to forget the others. When she had found her pulling splinters out of her knees and hadn’t thought to ask what had happened. When she had believed Fox’s doorknob excuse when her sister appeared with a black eye because she hadn’t cared enough to think otherwise. When she had watched their father twist Fox’s braid around his hand idly as she sat stock still waiting for the yank. 

      Kyla felt ill. It could not be true. She would not believe it could be true. The photographs were returned to their tomb and placed within the catacombs of her closet. Never again to be looked at. The damning evidence that proved her mother wasn’t lying. 

#x | burning the letters ( answered. ) #x | unsigned letters ( anon. ) #[ thank you to whoever sent this in! ] #[ i had a lot of fun writing kyla ] #[ especially in this formative moment ] #x | i don’t blame you for being you but you can’t blame me for hating it ( kyla. ) #x | i sometimes wish i stayed inside my mother never to come out ( nessa. ) #x | you're too old to be this shy he says to me so i stay the night ( alexei. ) #x | you are not responsible for what was done to you as a defenseless child ( memories. ) #x | you're screaming and cursing and angry and hurting me then smiling and crying apologizing ( family. ) #abuse tw #child abuse tw #domestic abuse tw #general tw #ptsd tw #cptsd tw #mental illness tw #[ if i've forgotten any let me know ] #[ i left some parts v ambiguous so idk if i want to necessarily tag something that might not come through??? ] #depression tw