Dear Ana: A Novel

Dear Ana,

I met his girlfriend today.

It’s only been a few weeks into my junior year of high school, but I’m already crammed with work. I refused to let my accident set me back in school, so I spent the entire summer getting caught up instead of resting. I gave up on the idea that life was going to change, and the only way out was . . . out. I was going to get accepted into a university far, far away and my parents wouldn’t be able to say no. Or maybe they would, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. I had to cut the cord and escape

I was in the middle of writing my biology notes when my mom knocked on my door.

“Maya, your friend is here. Why didn’t you tell me you invited someone over?” she asked, crossing her arms.

I stared at her blankly. “I never invited anyone over.”

“Well, there’s someone downstairs saying that you did.”

I didn’t push it. I headed for the stairs but stopped when I saw Mikhail round the corner. He continued in my direction, forcing me back into my room. I was pressed up against the farthest wall and he was right there with me, in my bubble, sharing my air.

“Go along with it or I’ll kill you,” he whispered into my ear, lips just barely grazing skin.

And then he left.

The old me would have been shaking, Ana. I would have slid down the wall in a slow and exaggerated way, choking on sobs and tears like the pathetic and naïve child I used to be.

That was the old me, though. The new me didn’t even blink an eye. The new me had an agreement with Mikhail. He could do whatever he wanted, and I would keep my mouth shut or else I would be reunited with four white walls and a thick file labelled Ibrahim, Maya.

I headed for the stairs a second time without interruption, and just like my mom said, someone was sitting on the couch in the living room. It was a girl, who looked to be about my age. She was short and pretty, and I had no fucking clue who she was.

“Hey!” She greeted me excitedly like we were long-time best friends.

I racked my brain for a memory with her or even just what her name could be, but I was coming up blank. I did not know this girl.

“You look confused. We said that we were meeting up today, right? You were going to help me study for our biology test?” She held up the same textbook that was sitting on my bed.

“Um . . . yeah,” I replied hesitantly. “Let’s go downstairs.”

She slipped her shoes off and followed me to the basement. “You can set up your stuff on the table, I’m just going to grab my things. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Just water, please. Thank you, Maya.”

She was saying my name with such familiarity it was starting to freak me out. I forced a smile her way and ran back upstairs, where my mom was in the kitchen pouring some water and juice into glasses.

“Hiba seems lovely. Why haven’t you mentioned her before?”

I wanted to tell her that I had never met Hiba before today. I wanted to tell her that I never invited Hiba over. I wanted to tell her that something weird was going on, and I was positive Mikhail had something to do with it.

But I didn’t, Ana. Nobody ever believed me.

I grabbed my books and went back downstairs to help this stranger study only to find Mikhail sprawled on the couch, deep in conversation with Hiba.

“You didn’t have to grab your stuff, silly. We both know I’m not here for biology help,” she said, giggling. “Anyway, Mikhail, did your mom say anything about me so far?”

I was too stunned to speak. My eyes flickered between them as they continued talking like there was nothing strange going on, and Mikhail’s threat from earlier suddenly made sense. I was just a pawn in his perfectly calculated plan to hang out with a girl in our house, unsupervised. They never acknowledged my existence for the rest of her visit. I just stood in the corner, quietly suffocating under a cloud of heavy awkwardness and confusion.

I could’ve just left. It wasn’t like he was going to drag me back by my hair in front of her if I tried to leave, but I couldn’t, Ana. My feet were glued to the floor and my eyes were glued on Mikhail. Following his every movement and studying him intensely. The way he was smiling at her tenderly. The way he was speaking to her so gently and sweetly. The way his tone was so low and calm.

Something was beginning to simmer underneath my layer of numbness. I tried shoving it away, but that ugly green-eyed beast was starting to spread quickly. God, I sound so fucking creepy, but I just felt . . . I don’t know. It’s stupid. I’m stupid. My entire fucking life is stupid but it doesn’t matter because that hopeless longing was consuming me and it was disgusting. How could I want that? How could I still want anything to do with him after everything he did to me? After everything he put me through? But if he was truly so rotten to the core, why was she still here? Why was she smiling at him and playing with a piece of her hair? Could she really not see what I saw?

She wasn’t the only one––my parents, the doctors at the hospital, his friends. They were all trapped under his spell. It was just me, alone on the other side, crying about the monster hiding in my closet but every time someone checked it was suddenly empty. If you were the only one who could see the devil in a room full of people, did that make you smarter, or did that just make you delusional?

I couldn’t help but start to notice all our differences . . . do you think he would like me more if I was prettier, Ana? Like Hiba?

If I was short and small?

If I was more talkative?

If I played with him more as a baby, instead of crying every time he held me?

If I was a better sister?

If, if, if––

“Well . . . I have to go,” Hiba said, pulling me out of my existential crisis.

“I’ll show you out,” I mumbled. I was almost at the top of the stairs when I heard them.

“Your sister probably thinks she’s crazy,” Hiba giggled quietly.

“She is. She’s been making my life a living hell since the day she learned how to talk,” Mikhail replied.

“Awe, it’s okay honey,” Hiba crooned. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

I covered my mouth with my hand before I could make a sound and waited for her by the door. I stared at her while she put her shoes on, hoping that she would say something to redeem herself, but she didn’t. I quickly ran up to my room and paced back and forth in the small space, trying to process what had just happened.

It was obvious they were together romantically. So he . . . what? Invited her over? Told her to pretend that I had invited her over so our parents wouldn’t know they were dating? And she––without questioning my brother’s sanity––just went along with his act? She couldn’t see his true colors because she was just as manipulative as he was.

I wanted to slap myself, Ana. I wanted to bang my head against the fucking wall for letting his charm confuse me. For being jealous of her.

I thought I was so sure of myself. Even after everything that happened with my accident, I didn’t let him faze me. But it was already happening and I just never noticed. He planted a seed of doubt into my brain long ago and it was growing rapidly. I needed to escape before it took over everything that I knew to be true.

I flung open my closet and started throwing clothes out. Besides my very old and used laptop, I had managed to save up every penny from tutoring over the last few years. I grabbed my bawled-up scarf and turned it upside down on my bed.

Nothing came out.

“No, no, no,” I whispered as panic started to crawl up my skin. I went back into my closet and searched every inch, but it was no use. All my money was gone.

Stolen.

Mikhail stole all the money I was saving up for school.

My numb was gone, Ana. The new Maya was gone and the old one was back, and I could feel everything, everywhere, all at once. I flipped my mattress over and ripped my curtains off the window sill. I tore my clothes off their hangers and I screamed into the fabric. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed, and when it wasn’t enough I took my fist and shoved it straight into my reflection.

Cracked. Broken. Angry.

Just like me.

Just like him.

I was truly my brother’s sister.

There was a long shard of glass next to my foot. I imagined picking it up. I imagined it would feel cold and hard in my palm. I imagined taking it and slicing my wrists. I felt the pain. I felt the warm blood trickling down my hands and onto the floor. I felt your pulse slowing and then stopping completely.

But then something dawned on me, and I immediately came back to life. The shard of glass was still next to my foot, my wrists were intact and all my blood was in my veins.

What if today wasn’t just an act of manipulation? What if Hiba only went along with his plan because she wanted me to know that she existed? What if this visit was a cry for help? Was it possible that Mikhail was doing the same thing to Hiba that he was doing to me?

I stepped into the empty hallway. His door was open, and I could hear the shower running in the bathroom. Without thinking it through I quietly entered his room and grabbed his phone, sighing in relief when he didn’t have a passcode. I went to his contacts with shaky fingers and found Hiba’s name.

The water stopped.

I tossed his phone back on his bed and ran back to my room, whispering her number under my breath so I wouldn’t forget. I grabbed my notebook and scribbled it down before shoving it into my backpack.

I know siblings fight, Ana. Sometimes they hit you, threaten you and try to kill you. Sometimes they steal your money, and sometimes they treat their girlfriends better than they have ever treated you. But she’s not his sibling, which means anything he did or didn’t do to her was wrong and completely unacceptable.

I can’t protect myself, Ana, but maybe I can protect her.

I know what I have to do.