Phoebe
I do a lot of dancing these days. I take hip-hop, ballet, and modern, but I like ballet best. It makes me seem graceful, not like a screw-up, which is what I really am. I watch all the other girls get in line for leaps, and soon the line bears down to me. I take a sort of running start and feel myself propel into the air. The music behind me, slow and classical, I can feel it seep into my veins as I leap again. I feel like my body is air, just air and nothing else, if I close my eyes, I can see clouds pass by.
I am stopped abruptly by the voice of my teacher, Ana Yuri, "Good job Miss Halliwell." I like Miss Yuri; she is an amazing teacher, unlike the other teacher for my age group Mr. Ivanovich. Mr. Ivanovich takes it so seriously and doesn't care for fun; I dread the time I will have to spend with him, because in the middle of the year, we switch teachers.
In front of me is my friend, Marina Saffron; we are lined up at the barre, me looking at my fingers against the mirror. We are instructed to put our hands on the barre, and lift our legs out far behind us, I feel as if mine is being detached from me. Parents and siblings start coming in, Marina's mother, father, and two year old brother come to pick her up. I want a family like that. I have never actually remembered my parents. It doesn't help that my father is still alive, and because of what a bastard Prue tells him as, I wish he were dead. Then maybe, I could miss him properly. According to Prue he is dead, but I know the truth, he's alive and I'll meet him one day. I look in the mirror behind me and see Prue's face, watching my dance. Her blue eyes are on me, watching intently, there isn't a certain expression on her face, and she's just watching me. I stop dancing and turn around to see her, "Hey Prue."
Her eyes are still on me, but her face breaks into a slow smile. "You're an amazing dancer."
I can tell she really means this, and I hug her, "Thanks sis." I look down, "I'm really sorry about your photography. I know how you feel, if someone took ballet from me, I could never live."
"Pheebs, um…" She looks a little bit embarrassed, but smiles for show.
"Yeah, yeah I know."
"I'm just really proud of you, Pheebs, never quit your dancing."
PrueI watch my little sister take her brown hair out of her tight bun, and pull a pair of jeans over her leotard. I feel a pang in my heart, I love Piper, but Phoebe will always be my baby, and seeing her dance reminds me she's not as young as I'd like her to be. She's grownup so much, it's hard to believe, become a young woman. I'm glad she still has the same spirit as she did when she was younger, or I don't think I'd be able to deal with her. Of course she's a little bit more rebellious as a teenager, but she's sweet, and freehearted. Sometimes I feel sorry for her, the life she has to go through, and sometimes I'm envious that she doesn't remember mom's funeral, or anything else for that matter. It's hard on all of us, everything that's happened.
"Prue, hellooo Prue? You there?" Phoebe waves her hand in front of my face, "We need to leave."
I leave my train of thought and pick Phoebe's ballet bag up, "Lets go home and see what Piper cooked for us."
"She better have cooked something vegetarian this time!" Phoebe said, shaking her hair out, from the way it was molded in the bun.
I open the door and escort her to the front seat, "I bet she has. So Pheebs how was school?"
"Do you like, HAVE to ask me that everyday, it's kinda annoying." I raise my eyebrows at her, geez someone's pissy.
"Well missy, if I have to DRIVE you to school everyday, I think I deserve to know what's going on there." Ugh, how come everything always ends up in us fighting?
"We talked about friggin rocks! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?" Phoebe rolls her eyes at me.
"Don't use that language." I say quietly.
"What are you my f…ing mother?" Excuse me? I am like a mother to her, I take care of her when she's sick, what is she talking about?
"Phoebe…"
"You're not, okay! I never met her! The only one who can tell me what to do is Grams, and guess what Grams is in the hospital, so seriously, don't. You're my sister!"
"Phoebe what is the goddamn matter with you? I try to start a conversation but no…"
"You're not my mother. You're not anything to me." This hurts me. I can't let it hurt me, why is it hurting me? She loves me. She's known me her whole life. I close my eyes; I hate teenagers.
Phoebe
I hate myself right now, for how I was to Prue. She's been trying so hard; it's just, just… I don't know. I run out into the evening air, it's still light out, but I know it's going to get dark soon. I want to run somewhere. Somewhere where I can't hurt anyone, but I don't want to be alone. The cool air hits me like a ton of bricks while I run, faster than I ever have. I pause to slow down; I'm about a mile away from home now, stooped outside someone's house on the sidewalk.
A shadow comes up behind me, every footstep making my heart pound, "Phoebe?"
I sigh in relief, looking at who is there, "Oh, Ryder, you scared me."
Ryder looks scared, there is a flash of alarm in his own eyes, "Phoebe, you can't be here right now."
"Why not?" I don't know whats happening, but Ryder is scaring me.
"Just go!" Ryder looks rushed and pained.
"I-I just ran like a mile to get here." I say.
He shoves me, "Leave." I run away and look at my arm; there is no bruise, although the sheer force of him has jolted me. I hide behind a bush near his house to see whats going on, I know it's something I'll regret later.
"Ryder, where the hell are you," A deep voice comes out of the house.
"R-right here dad." He seems scared.
Then a booming figure comes up to Ryder, "What the f… are you doing outside now, I told you to be inside and help your mother." Then, he does something I would never expect for him to do; he slaps Ryder across the face. I can tell it stings, I can tell Ryder wants to cry, right when the mark turns bright pink across his face. I gasp, and quickly put my hand over my mouth. I had no idea what Ryder was going through; I had no idea. There's more, I want to go home a lie under the covers, but instead I have to see Ryder getting punched out by his father. And then they go inside.
I'm left alone in the shear darkness, my breath, the only thing I can hear in front of me. I've been here for a while, the breezes numbing my shoulders, and me clutching my small sweatshirt. Every now and then I look towards his house to see if he's okay, but I hear no sound. The air sweeps past his house, making eerie noises. My heart starts pounding again, and I want to run. I can't run anywhere in this darkness, I'm trapped here. A few minutes I sit here, wondering what to do, when light flashes in my eyes. Someone gets out of the car, and slams the door shut behind them.
"Phoebe, oh thank god." I can hear Piper's voice.
PiperI can see Phoebe's face, illuminated in the moonlight, peering through the thicket. I run to her and hug her; she hugs me back tightly. Prue hugs her too and looks relieved. I have never seen Prue be so worried before, it reminds me how much Prue really does care about Phoebe. She had been pacing all over the house, spitting out all the curses she knows.
"Phoebe I was soooo worried." Prue hugs Phoebe even more tightly, and Phoebe clings on fast. Something has happened to her, I know it. Oh my gosh, what did happen to her, it's dark, she's in front of this crappy house… oh my god.
Uh oh, Prue is done being worried and has gone straight to plain pissed off.
"Phoebe Marie Halliwell, where the hell do you get off on running away? It's almost eleven o'clock! Do you think this would make me even less mad at you after today!"
Phoebe's response is even worse, nothing, no witty sarcastic comment, just silence. It's not like Phoebe; it makes me worry even more.
"Shhh, Prue." Phoebe looks around cautiously.
"Come on get in the car!" Prue says harshly, "Get in!"
The ride home is mostly silent, except for Prue muttering swears, and me turning my head to look at Phoebe every now and then. Her head is pressed against the window, her eyes looking out at the drizzling night sky. We stop at the manor and get in, Prue disappears up to her room, and Phoebe starts to, I stop her.
"Phoebe what happened?" She knows her concern shows through her face, but she won't let me in so easily.
"Me and Prue just had a fight, that's all." She coughs, and steps up the first stair. I grab her sweatshirt.
"Phoebe, I know that, but… You seem like there's something else bothering you."
"There is nothing else Pipe, quit worrying."
"Phoebe, please." I see her close her eyes and sigh.
"Nothing." There was a time when Phoebe could tell me anything. She would come into my room at obscure times like two in the morning and cry. She would talk to me about what was on her mind, and how she was glad she had someone who listened to her. Then, she turned fifteen.
I let her go upstairs, watching her disappear into the darkness of a hallway. As much as she doesn't want to be, she's so much like Prue. I used to think Phoebe was open about everything, but now she's really good at hiding. She used to suck at keeping secrets, and Prue would yell at her for telling. See, Prue and Phoebe are both bad listeners, which is probably why I am the mediator. I was born the mediator between those two. Their relationship is extremely complicated; they love each other so much, yet are constantly fighting. I guess that's what happens when you put two headstrong girls with each other, especially since one uses her big sister powers against the other one. I don't know what exactly I can do for each of them.
My stomach rumbles, and I realize I haven't eaten anything all day. I walk into the kitchen and look in the fridge and pig out. I drink two diet cokes, eat four bananas, and a never ending bought of chips. After I finish, I feel fat, a pig, horrible. I can feel my thighs expanding, and realize; I don't deserve any of it. I don't deserve to eat, there are people starving in far away countries, people that are better then me. I'm so selfish; I wonder what I can do to get rid of the food. I wonder what I can do to fill that ever lasting hunger that I've had since Grams got into the hospital. An idea pops into my head; I've been reading this book about a girl named Isabelle who throws up. All she does is put her fingers down her throat and magically, her sins come up. I lean over the sink and put my two fingers down my throat as far as I can. My stomach contracts hard, and all the food I just ate comes up. I wipe the back of my hand on my mouth and breath hard. Every part of me feels sick and scared. My stomach hurts now, and I feel dizzy, but somehow contented. I know I will be doing this again.