Rivalry
Anna Williams inhaled as she slipped further into the gentle lather that had become of her bathwater, feeling a sense of relaxation gradually creep over her body.
She needed this more than she'd thought. The past week had been stressful enough, with the ending of the fifth Iron Fist tournament, and Nina's most recent attempt to get rid of her was an expected, though in no way appreciated, addition.
She leaned her head back against the porcelain edge, tips of her dark tresses dipping below the surface of the water. She observed the licks of black smoke drifting toward the ceiling in spiraling pillars, liquid shadows raiding the dimmed light.
The water was warm, inviting. She sighed, sapphire eyes fluttering shut beneath thick lashes.
Her sister wasn't worth worrying about.
But the thoughts always arrived regardless, and arrive they did, crowding the stage behind her eyes with their accusations and antics.
x x x x
"Give it back!" the young version of herself whined, crossing her arms.
Her sister, her senior by two years, merely smirked at her, a sadistic shine to her eyes. She raised the cloth doll above her head as high as she could.
The doll was covered in dirt and haphazard stitching, clearly visible in contrast against its pale skin. Strands of russet hair, thin lengths of string, fell over its expressionless face as Nina dangled it out of her sister's reach.
"No," she taunted, swinging it by its flaccid arm, "Why do you want this old thing, anyway? It's dirty and ugly. Kind of like you."
Anna frowned, her small hands condensing into fists.
Nina laughed lightly. "That's why you want it, then? Because it reminds you of yourself? Don't be so vain, Anna. Nobody likes a movie star this far from Hollywood."
Anna jumped, arms flailing, but to no avail.
Nina scoffed at the younger girl's feeble attempt. "What's the matter? Forget your platform shoes in your trailer this morning?"
Narrowing her eyes in defiance, Anna tried once more. Nina yanked the doll out of her grasp just as she claimed purchase on its left hand, ripping the cloth holding the arm in place.
Both children fell silent as Anna stared at the disconnected arm in her hand.
She blinked once, twice. Slowly, very slowly, the lifeless limb before her blurred into a smudge of delicate pink.
The doll was, in some ways, like her. Broken, with only fragile stitching to hide the voids.
x x x x
Anna moved her hands in front of her, rotating the bubbles and allowing more lather to form.
She'd named that doll Beautiful because it was apparent that it wasn't, not on the outside anyway. The colorful buttons it'd had for eyes had faded and were barely attached, its dress plain and as thin as paper.
But she'd gotten it from her mother, and thus held it close at all times, no matter what it looked like.
Nina had often made it known that she hated the doll, but whether it was because she herself hadn't received one or some other underlying reason, Anna didn't know. It was always a rhetorical question at best.
x x x x
"Anna," Nina called to her younger sister from the ground, "Throw one of those down to me!"
Anna looked down at her from her secure perch amongst the strong branches of the peach tree behind the Williams' stretch of property.
Hugging her own peach protectively to her chest, she shook her head. "Why should I?"
"Because your legs are longer than mine. You're the only one that can reach the peaches at the top of the tree."
It was true. She would often use this to her advantage, climbing up into the safe canopy of the peach tree at the edge of their yard to get away from Nina. She knew very well her sister wouldn't follow, unwilling to risk eventually needing to ask Anna for assistance.
"Nope," she shouted down, "Not gonna."
"Fine. I'm going to tell Father."
Anna shrugged, digging her nails into the fruit absently.
"Dad!" Nina yelled, turning away, "Anna won't—Ah!"
The peach Anna was holding landed on the ground with a thud, rolling onto its side next to the elder girl's feet. Cradling the back of her head, the area of impact, Nina growled.
x x x x
When Nina wasn't insulting her, ordering her around, or otherwise belittling her, she was silent, thinking of the next horrible thing to say. Anna had stopped trying to find a reason for her hostility. That was simply how it was during the majority of their shared childhood.
There was at least one exception, a fleeting moment of concerned protection.
x x x x
The pair were returning home after running a short errand. Anna was skipping over the cracks in the sidewalk, giggling happily. Nina rolled her eyes, mouth falling open as she prepared to scold her sister for being so childish.
She never got the chance.
A stranger, approaching the two girls from the opposite side of the road, seemed to swipe her air as he spoke.
"Could you girls help me?" the man asked, "My puppy got out of the house. I've been looking for an hour now and still haven't found him."
"Your puppy?" Anna echoed, sympathetic, "What color is it? My sister and I might've seen it. There are lots of—"
Nina stepped forward. "No, we can't. We have to go home."
But the man was persistent, gripping Anna's wrist.
"Please," he said, his eyes fixed upon hers, "He belongs to my daughter. You know, she's about your age."
She didn't have any friends. Nina intimidated the other kids in their neighborhood, not to mention a few of the adults. The isolation didn't bother her sister at all, of course, because she was usually busy training with their father anyway.
The prospect of another little girl to play with intrigued Anna. "Really?"
He nodded. "Follow me. I'll take you to her."
Nina was beginning to get uncomfortable with the situation. "Come on, Anna. Let's go."
"No," the younger girl argued, "I want to play with—"
Sighing at her sister's ignorance, Nina jerked her away from the man, forcibly pulling her wrist free. He regarded the blonde with annoyance.
"She wants to come with me," he sneered.
His abrupt change in tone was enough to scare Anna. She recoiled slightly, hiding behind Nina.
When the man advanced, Nina kicked him in the shin and then on the side of the head, jumping and swinging her leg around. She dragged Anna alongside her as she ran from the scene, the stranger bent over behind them.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" the younger girl asked in awe.
Her sister ignored her question, taking a sharp turn and pulling her through a shopping center.
"I want to learn to fight, too!"
x x x x
A single kind action, never to be spoken of again.
Anna briefly wondered whether her sister could even recall that incident. It was later smothered by years upon years of torment and hatred.
When would she next see Nina? Their confrontations were never mutually planned, therefore making them unpredictable on her part. She mused that it wasn't so unlikely for her sister to arrive at her apartment any second, shove a gun in her face when she opened the door, and tell her to admit that she was wrong.
Wrong for what?
Everything. Their entire lives were her fault.
Snickering, Anna descended from the bathtub and wrapped a clean white towel around her.
As she walked over to the fogged mirror, she heard a succession of knocks batter the front door, followed not even a second later by a loud thud that could only mean the door had been forced from its hinges.
It seemed there would be a family gathering that night after all.