“No excellent soul is exempt from a mixture of madness” – Aristotle
“Aurora!” I almost dropped my glass of water “Aurora!” someone was yelling my full name—I frowned at that; everyone knows me as Rory, no one called me by my full name apart from my sister. “Aurora! Please!” desperate knocks on my door followed the urgent call of my name again. Setting my glass in the sink, I walked to the door “Aurora, hurry up! Please!” my eyes widened as I recognized whose voice was desperately yelling at me and I ran to unlock the door and open it. Standing on the other side was Nivea.
I grabbed my chest as my heart skipped a beat while I fully took her image in. She was a total wreck. Her eyes ...view middle of the document...
I could only water her.
“Do you have any holy water, Aurora?” She asked. It took me a minute to realize she was talking to me, it was strange to be called by my full name again. Wait…
“Did you just say holy water? Nivea what… Why do you need holy wat—” I was interrupted before being able to finish my question.
“Do you have holy water Aurora?! Answer me!” she yelled stalking towards me with her eyes wide as saucers.
“No… Nivea please tell me—”
“A crucifix?” she asked, interrupting me again. She turned away from me and started searching again.
“Nivea!” I shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders, “Look at me!” I demanded concerned for her mental health. I didn’t know what was wrong with my sister but she absolutely wasn’t herself. Her half crazed blue eyes locked onto mine for a second, “Nivea, what’s happening?” I asked again, trying to make my voice firm enough for her to answer me.
Tears streamed down her face, “I can’t tell you,” she said, her cracked lips trembling. She hadn’t stopped crying since she came into my apartment. I took her face into my hands and tried to calm her down. “Nivea, whatever is going on, I can help you if you let me…just tell me what’s happening so I can help you.” I begged. Nivea was all I had; she and I grew up in an orphanage. We were abandoned by our father when I was three and Nivea was eight. She was my protector, always looking out for me. When she turned 18 she looked for a job so that we could get a place of our own. We finally were able to leave the orphanage and she managed to have two jobs to send me through school. I owed her everything. She was both my parents and my sister rolled into one being and no one knows how much I loved her.
“You can’t help me, Aurora. No one can. It’s too late now. He’s coming. He’s coming…” Her voice was rough from all the crying. I had to calm her down.
“Nivea,” I began softly, “I’m here, okay? I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You and me against the world remember? Through thick and thin?” That was our sayings for years. Her eyes filled with tears again and it broke my heart to see her so sad, so terrified. She was always the strong one between the two of us; but I would try with all my might to be the strong one for her if she needed me. I would do anything for her.
“He won’t stop until he finds me,” that was her only reasoning as she looked down. Suddenly, she slapped by hands away and continued her crazed search, “We have to find a crucifix.” She begged me.
“What are you talking about?” I frowned at her; she wasn’t making any sense! “Nivea?” I called her but she was lost in her thoughts again. I grabbed her arm and she slapped my hand away again, harder this time.
“A crucifix! We need one now! Why don’t you understand?!” she screamed at me. Despair and frustration was clear on her face. I was froze in shock for a moment. She had never yelled at me before, let alone yell and slap me; even when we were fighting as kids. Something was really wrong.