Emily's Requiem - Jen Appell (essential reading .TXT) 📗

Cold autumn air rushed in through the open window as Olivia sped down the city streets. Although December started tomorrow, she let the chill ebb away at her crowded brain, hoping it would eventually go numb. Olivia’s thoughts were persistent however. Despite the cold, memories raced through her mind. She blinked hard and hissed to herself, “That’s the past. It’s over.”
SLAM! She stomped on the brake at the intersection, which caused her long dark hair to fly in front of her face, and she narrowly missed an angry driver who had his fist shoved onto the horn. Shaken, Olivia waited until she regained her composure then began to drive, slower this time. She gave herself a mental shake and tried to focus again on driving.
Soon enough, she pulled into the apartment complex parking lot. Olivia got out of her car and entered the old brick building. She climbed the stairs to the third floor and unlocked the heavy door. Her small, dingy, three-room apartment welcomed her home. With a sigh, Olivia dropped her bag onto the spindly kitchen table, fell onto the squashy sofa, and pushed “Play” on her answering machine.
“One new message from phone number 917-063-2894. Received today at 12:27 P.M.” the mechanical voice announced.
Olivia rolled over on the sofa to look at the machine, waiting for the message to play. When it did, though, Olivia’s heart stuttered and her eyes grew wide. “What did she call for?” she thought frantically.
“Olivia,” a voice said through the speaker, a voice Olivia had known her whole life, a voice she recognized at once, and one she hoped she wouldn’t hear again. The woman sounded soft and sweet, but there was a shaky undertone, as if she was scared. “Olivia, it’s me, Emily. I know we haven’t talked in a long time, but I’d really like to see you again soon. Maybe we could grab something to eat? I know you love sushi…but maybe that’s changed…we’ve all changed, haven’t we?” Emily trailed off sadly. She sighed and continued, “All right, Liv, hope to see you soon. Love you. Bye.” Click.
Olivia sat, stunned and frozen on the sofa. As the machine declared that there were no more messages and turned off with a loud beep, Olivia was lost in thought. The last time she had heard her older sister’s voice, besides on the many messages she had left in hopes of a reunion, Olivia was sixteen. She could still remember that day clearly.
Her parents, the stupid old couple that they were, were yelling at Olivia, she remembered with a fury. Always yelling, those two. Always yelling at Liv, never Emily. No, no, no, never perfect pretty Emily! There was no need: Emily didn’t—couldn’t—do any wrong.
Her parents never liked anything Olivia did. She liked dark colors and Emily liked pink. Olivia listened to heavy metal while her sister danced to pop music. Her mother and father especially despised Olivia’s rebellious attitude and constant battle for independence. Emily, who never disobeyed a rule and did everything her parents asked, was much more manageable.
“Why can’t you be more like Emily?” they would say. “Your sister has never got into the sort of trouble you’re constantly managing to find!”
Growing up, Olivia and Emily were best friends, but Olivia started to pull away when she was older. She hated how she was constantly compared to her sister and she wanted to be an independent person, not Emily’s little sister. This struggle eventually led Olivia to resent her sister.
“But Emily still cared,” Olivia thought, brushing a thin hand through her hair. “She still does.” Olivia’s heart swelled and she felt tears start to rise in her eyes as she thought about all the times her sister stood by her, whether or not Olivia wanted her there. Olivia wondered why she never called Emily back all those times she left a message. “But my parents…they haven’t even bothered to call in four years.”
Olivia’s face twisted into a sour frown as she thought about her parents and their strict rules. They found a rule for everything, wrapping them tightly around Olivia like barbed wire that Olivia had to escape; she had to get out of their iron grasp. When she was sixteen, Olivia couldn’t take it anymore and ran away from home.
All the terrible memories came rushing back. Olivia spent an hour sitting on her old threadbare sofa and simply stared off into nothing, reliving her last day with her family over and over in her mind.

The next day Olivia tried to forget about the message and carried on as usual. She got ready for work and drove to the tattoo parlor. Her entrance was signaled by the tinkling of a bell overhead. Her best friend, Riley, turned around on his chair and smiled.
“Hey, Liv,” he said in his ever-cheery voice. “You look terrible.” Olivia scowled and said nothing as she dropped her stuff off at her station. Riley walked over and slung an arm over her shoulders. “You sure you’re okay?”
Olivia’s head twisted fiercely to face him. “I’m fine, Riley,” she snapped. Instantly, she regretted that outburst. His face fell and his eyes seemed to dim. He dropped his arm and stood staring at her. “Riley…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I shouldn’t have—I’m stressed…Emily called,” she managed to stutter as an apology.
“Emily?” Riley asked, shocked. “She called again? Did you call her back?” It seemed their previous tense moment was forgotten in lieu of this news.
Olivia shook her head violently. “No, I didn’t call. I wouldn’t know what to say. I haven’t seen her since I was sixteen!” she exclaimed.
Riley gave her a sympathetic expression then said, “I really think you should call her back. What’s it going to do? You were mad at your parents; Emily didn’t mean to hurt you. Just give her a call. Who knows what will happen.” He shrugged and walked away to greet the first customer.

The day seemed to stretch out to ten times its size, the clock seemed to freeze, and surely the flow of people came just to annoy her. Olivia’s head was pounding by the end of the day. Riley’s morning speech persuaded her to give her sister another chance. Olivia spent the long hours planning her call. She went through so many possibilities but they all sounded wrong, too cheesy, too casual, too emotional, too something. She decided in the end to stick to the old classic, “Hello.”
Stuck in the usual traffic expected of the city, Olivia gazed out of her window. An old man in a green hat with a walker stumbled by. Laughing, a couple walked by, hand in hand. A business woman with her hair slicked back into a tight bun stalked past with a severe look on her bony face. What really caught Olivia’s attention was the family of four that walked passed. The mother and father were smiling at their two daughters who were skipping down the pavement, holding hands and laughing, their hair whipping in the wind behind them. Olivia watched them for a few minutes before a blast of a car horn from the car behind her jumped her out of her reverie.
Olivia drove for what seemed to be ages until at last she was home. She dropped her belongings at the door and ran for the phone, anxious of what she was about to do. Her hand trembled over the receiver for a few seconds before she pulled it away. She took a deep breath and decided to play her messages first, trying to stall. The familiar mechanical woman’s voice introduced the first message.
“Hey, Liv, it’s Riley. Just wanted to know if you called Emily back yet. If you want, we can hang out later. Okay, c’ya,” and he hung up.
The next one, however, took Olivia by complete blind-sighted surprise. Her mother’s voice emanated from the small black box on the broken side table. “Olivia…Liv…” her mother cried. Olivia’s heart stopped. Her mother wouldn’t call her just to say hello. “What was it? Why did she call? Get on with it woman!” Olivia shouted in her mind. Her mother continued to sob into the phone. “Your sister…Emily…she’s dead!” Olivia’s insides froze, everything except for her heart, which was pumping furiously and loudly, ceased to function. “Dead? Emily…” Olivia slowly sank to the floor, her breath shallow. Her mother’s sobs were cut off by the machine. Soon, tears formed and once they started, they fell from her dark eyes as though thunderstorms were erupting in them.
The other messages continued to play, unaware and apathetic of Olivia’s crumpled composure. Friends and various family members left their sympathy and condolences, and someone (Olivia was not sure who and quite frankly didn’t care who) told her when and where the funeral would take place. She heard something about a car accident, a head-on collision, but nothing registered besides the fact that Emily was now gone, dead.
As the mechanical voice inside that black box went silent, Olivia somehow pulled herself up and stumbled over to the sofa. The terrible news was echoing in her mind as though some demented person was shouting it from a megaphone just inside her ear.

Olivia didn’t remember going to bed that night, but she woke up in her bed around noon. Her tear-stained pillow was squished under her head and the blanket was tight around her in a firm embrace. The phone began to ring, but Olivia didn’t want to get up. She couldn’t get up. She could barely breathe. Ring ring ring. She contented some part of her brain with the idea of staying in bed for the rest of her days, not moving, not talking, not living. Ring ring ring. “Let the answering machine get it,” she thought tiredly. Ring ring ring. Olivia closed her eyes and drifted off again into a scary, twisted nightmare.
She woke up an hour later to the sound of someone knocking on the door. Having just woken up and still groggy from sleep, Olivia forgot about her plan to stay in bed for the rest of her life. She climbed out from her twisted sheets and shuffled over to the front door. She wiped her eyes with the back of one hand as she turned the handle. She found herself staring at Riley’s face.
“Hey,” he said in an uncharacteristically melancholy voice. Olivia opened her mouth to respond, but couldn’t find the words. Instead, she closed her eyes and began to cry. She cried harder than she had in years and her body wracked with her harsh sobs. Riley stepped forward over the doorframe and pulled her into a tight hug.
They stood in the doorway, holding onto each other desperately, until Olivia’s sobs had finally subsided. Riley watched her sadly as she pulled away and wiped her tears from her face. Neither of them said a word. Olivia half-smiled at her friend, turned around and walked over to the sofa. Riley followed and sat next to her.
“Are you going to the funeral?” he asked after a while. He looked nervous about how she would respond, like he was scared that she would cry again and lose herself in her despair.
Olivia shook her head. “I don’t think I could…” she whispered hoarsely. Her lower lip began to tremble dangerously.
“Of course you can. Go. Emily would want her little sister there.”
“My parents are going,” she muttered.
“Naturally. Listen, I know you don’t want to face them, but eventually you’re going to have to. You can’t live the rest of your life in fear. Maybe you can reconnect with them,” he