Calliope and Caliborn were your average siblings, for the most part. Sometimes they fought over the computer or the TV or the bathroom. Sometimes Cal pulled Callie's hair, and sometimes Callie smacked him upside the head. But for the most part, they were pretty normal.
Except for the fact that they were in love.
Well, maybe not completely in love. But the signs were there. Callie often told her friends that her brother was the most handsome boy in the world while her eyes sparkled and her cheeks reddened. And Cal enjoyed holding his sister in his lap and playing with her hair. He loved long hair, and Callie knew that, so her silky dark hair flowed down to a place just above her hips. Cal couldn't stand females as a whole, but he secretly had a soft spot for her.
Given time, these feelings might have become stronger. The twins might have fallen in love properly. Everyone might have been scandalized, but Calliope and Caliborn would not have been able to care less. They would have moved and started a new life together. They might even have lived happily ever after.
But this was not meant to be. Calliope and Caliborn did not have a picture perfect family by any means. Both of their parents worked, and always worked late. Their mother dealt with the stress by drinking, while their father dealth with it with hookers. Their mother knew this, which just pushed her to drink more. There was no pretense of love or family. Never did the entire family sit down to dinner. They never went out to the movies or the park or the zoo, and they never went to Calliope's plays or Caliborn's band concerts. Each night, their mother and father went to bed in different rooms. Cal and Callie relied on each other for family. They fashioned themselves as husband and wife. He would make breakfast (which was always cereal or oatmeal and sometimes toast if he felt adventurous because he couldn't really cook) while she would pack their lunches. She'd always leave a treat in his lunchbox, whether it was a brownie she'd baked herself or a little inspirational note. Cal always said it was ridiculous and childish, but secretly he was touched by her thoughtfulness and it always warmed his heart. Around the house, the would even call each other pet names like "honey" and "dear" and "sweetheart".
This went on until the twins were fifteen years old. At first, it was just any other night. Callie lay on the living room floor, struggling with her algebra while Cal was slouched in the recliner, absent-mindedly flipping through channels on the TV.
Then the shouting starten. However, this was an almost nightly occurence, so Cal wasn't bothered. Callie, on the other hand, hated it and never got used to it. Caliborn got off the chair and sat next to his sister. Her hand found his and their fingers neatly intertwined. The contact made Cal's heart race, but he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
The yelling grew louder as their parents moved the argument from upstairs to the kitchen. Cal and Callie caught a glimpse of their parents as they descended the stairs and passed by the opening from the living room to the foyer. Their dad was disheveled and tired-looking, while their mom was livid and most definitely drunk. Callie turned and buried her face in Cal's chest. He could feel the tremors as she sobbed quietly.
Cal heard some odd noises then. He heard metal clanging, and a strangled noise, then finally a soft thud. He left Callie in the living room to investigate the kitchen.
All he could think was red. Bright red. Red on the white tiled floor. Red on the knife in their mother's hand. Red spilling from a hole in their dad's neck.
Immediately Cal's thoughts turned to Callie. He had to keep her safe. He ran from the kitchen, back into the living room. He grabbed her arm and dragged her up the stairs, shooshing her when she tried to talk. Callie's room was closer, so he went in and shut the door, putting as much stuff in front of it as he could. He panted as he tried to comprehend what had happened. Their mom had just killed their dad, and they were in danger. There was no way their mom would let them get away and turn her in. Cal stuffed his hands in his pockets, but they were empty.
"Callie, do you have your cell phone?" He asked, trying his best to remain calm. She nodded. "Good. Call 911. Tell them that we need police and that we're in danger." Callie nodded again and wandered off to the corner furthest from the door to make the call.
Cal heard their mother thud up the stairs. In her drunken state, it was impossible for her to be quiet. However, she was no less dangerous. If she was able to overpower their dad, the twins barely stood a chance.
"Where are you, you little shits?" She shouted. Cal held his breath. He could hear her open his door first. It was across the hallway from Callie's. If she worked her way around, it would be a few minutes before she would try to open their door. Behind him, Cal could hear Callie urgently muttering into the phone.
Cal's heart plummeted as he heard their mother storm across the hallway. He watched in horror as the doorknob turned. However, she could not open the door. Cal had dragged Callie's bookshelf in front of the door and then placed Callie's night stand in front of that, then came her computer desk. Then Cal had piled everything he could find. It wouldn't hold forever, but hopefully it would buy them enough time for the police to arrive.
However, their mom started slamming herself against the door. The pile moved an inch. Two inches. He put all his weight against the desk and pushed. The struggle lasted for a minute or two, but Cal slipped and the door cracked open. Within seconds, their mother was in the room, breathing heavily. She was practically snarling like a wild animal. The bloody knife was still in her hand.
"You can't hide from me," she growled. Cal backed up and stood protectively in front of Calliope. This did not escape their mother's notice.
"Yeah, you better protect your fuckin' girlfriend. You think I haven't noticed? How you two look at each other and hold hands? You're both fuckin' disgusting. You're monsters. I can't believe you two came out of me. I'm goin' to fix this problem. I brought you into this world, and now I'm gonna take you out."
Cal dove at her. Had to distract her from Callie. Unfortunately, she was expecting this sort of brazen move from him. For his rashness, Caliborn received a rather deep stab wound in his torso. He screamed, and it was literally the worst sound Callie had ever heard. Cal knocked their mom to the ground and won the knife from her. He then proceeded to slit her throat.
Blood. There was so much blood. Bright red blood. Sinking into her bright green carpet. She'd always loved that color. Now the green and red were mixing together. There were voices, but they were too far away for Callie to understand what they were saying. She was too busy staring at the carpet. Red and green. Cherries and limes inexplicably came to mind before everything went black.