Chapter Two

Kim’s stormy thoughts did not subside even when she reached the nursery gates. She ran a hand through her hair as she began to feel the beginnings of a headache creeping across her forehead. Headaches were a perpetual source of frustration to Kim and had been for a long time. This was mainly due to the fact that they would often come unexpectedly and there did not appear to be a particular trigger. She had been to the doctor many times for them but none of them could locate the source. Trudy was insistent that Kim was making it up for attention, rich coming from a woman who soaked up all the sympathy sent her way when Fraser was ill with a stomach bug last winter. One would have thought he had a more sinister disease than a forty-eight hour bug.

Kim’s thoughts were soon cut short as there was a tidal wave of children flowing through the gates, all squealing in delight at seeing their parents. Kim watched as the nearest mother greeted her daughter by picking her up and pecking kisses all over her face to the little girl’s playful protests. The happy pair left, the little girl babbling about how red and blue make purple and her mother sounding impressed and asking if she wanted a chippy for dinner.  Kim felt a lump form at the back of her throat, watching the little girl skip away happily hand in hand with her mum. She sighed and turned her gaze away from them. It had always been difficult for Kim to witness other children with their mums. Trudy had never been the slightest bit maternal towards her, not out of the public eye at least. She liked to put on a show of clucking and fussing over Kim around her friends or relatives, but as soon as the door shut it would swiftly return to hissed insults and acting as though Kim was not there. 

It was not difficult for Kim to spot Fraser in the sea of children. He was always the loudest and pushiest out of the lot, something that annoyed Kim greatly. It was bad enough that she had to deal with people at school who could have passed for oversized toddlers, now she was having to deal with a child who still acted like one. 

Fraser trotted up to her, suddenly looking sullen and his gait dropped to a slouch.

“Where’s mum?” He barked, Kim felt a hot spot behind her neck grow bigger. Did nobody say ‘hello’ anymore?

“She’s out, so I’m taking you home today.” Kim spoke bluntly. 

“Why?” He asked, his big blue eyes staring vacantly into Kim’s. 

“I just told you!” Kim answered, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, “Now come on! I’ll- I’ll make you a snack or something but we need to go.”

“I want mum to take me.” Fraser crossed his arms and pouted.

“She can’t, she’s busy. Now come on.” But Fraser stomped his foot angrily with an annoying “Hrmph!” Kim, her frustration rising, seized Fraser by the arm and started dragging him behind her down the street. All the while, Fraser wailed and kicked the back of her legs. Kim could not see what he was so fuming about. He was not the one who got dragged out the house on a stupid errand he had no reason to be running. He was going to go home to endless television, sweets and fizzy drinks while Kim would be stuck in her room reading her very small library of books, which she had done so many times she could practically do a one-woman performance reciting them. 

“Come! On!” Kim grunted with each tug as Fraser fought against her grip.

“I hate you!” Fraser spat, “I hate you! I want mum! I hate you! I hate yoooooooou!” And with that, Kim felt a sharp strike in the back of her knee, almost making her fall onto her face. She spun around, a hot flush on the back of her neck.

“Stop it! Or I’m not letting you have any sweets!” She snarled, unable to stop herself from shaking in anger. Fraser indeed stopped, his mouth agape in surprise. How dare she talk to him like that?

“I want sweets!” He bellowed suddenly, stomping his feet.

“Then just walk!” Kim spat, tugging him again. As she did, there was a sudden yelp, as a nearby dog, who had been chewing on a tennis ball, was surprised as the ball shot from its mouth and into the legs of another parent. The man rubbed his shin where the ball had hit him while his son took the opportunity to climb onto his back for a piggyback ride. The dog looked just as bumfuzzled as Kim felt. What had caused that? She took the momentary moment of Fraser’s confusion to tug him further along the road.

Step by frustrating step Kim dragged the still protesting boy alongside the pavement, all the while he wailed and whined and worked away at what little patience Kim had. Her headache had grown stronger by now, thumping away at her temples. All she wanted was to get home and go to sleep. But alas, Fraser’s incessant screams continued and the hotness in her neck increased. Kim balled her fists and bit onto her tongue, knowing that if she lashed out at the small boy then she would be given a worse punishment than no sweets. 

Finally, ten agonising minutes later, Kim had gotten home and dragged Fraser inside. Almost immediately, her brother ceased his hellish screams and scuttled to his room to change. Kim groaned and leaned against the wall, feeling her tense shoulders relax. She closed her eyes. Surely Trudy would be home soon and take over. Surely. Surely…

“Where’s my milk!?” A screech jolted Kim back to earth. Fraser had changed into his dinosaur tracksuit and was pouting in front of her. Kim did not have the energy to insist upon a “please” and went to the kitchen. She had seen Fraser’s after-school routine many times but had never done it herself. All she knew was that everything had to be exactly as Trudy wanted or all hell would break loose. 

After she got his milk, Kim handed him a small bar of chocolate and retreated to the living room. She turned the television off and allowed herself to sink into the couch. Her headache was growing greater, it was almost a migraine. Where was Trudy? Having another gin and tonic and telling her girlfriends about the time Kim had ruined the garden with paint. Kim felt a tight knot of annoyance at this idea. 

It had happened three years ago and Trudy still would not let her forget it. She had been made to paint a large portion of the fence and, in her frustration, she thrusted the paintbrush into the paint can and, for reasons Kim did not understand, this caused the paint can to fire like a rocket into the shed, sending brick red paint all over the garden including the bench, pond, cobblestones and Tristian’s gnome collection. Kim remembered crying and insisting that she did nothing wrong, but nobody believed her. She had spent two days in her room for this. That. however was no match for the migraine Kim had for those two days. It must have been the stress that caused it. That might explain every instance, now that she thought about it. 

Despite that being the only truely destructive act Kim ever performed, it had cemented her reputation with Trudy and anyone who would listen as a disruptive and vindictive girl, who just loved to give Trudy tremendous amounts of grief. Nobody would believe her if it had been the other way around.  

An infuriating huff brought Kim out of her thoughts. Fraser was standing in front of her, pouting and holding his now empty milk cup in his hands. He stared at Kim. Kim stared back. What did he want now?

“I finished my milk!” He shouted. Fraser hardly ever spoke normally. It was always some form of a demand or whining. It drove Kim crazy, especially when Trudy enabled him to talk like a baby. Not that Kim was allowed to try and correct this. After all, he was only a “baby boy.” 

“...Okay.” Kim blinked in confusion. Then, without another word, Fraser dropped his cup at Kim’s feet, sending little flecks of milk into the carpet. “Pick that up.” Kim growled, folding her arms. She was not going to let him act like she was some kind of maid. Fraser looked aghast, as if someone had never spoken to him like that before.

“I want to go and play with my toys!” He whined.

“Put that cup in the sink first.” Kim grumbled, now gripping her elbows hard in annoyance.

“No!” He stomped his foot and pouted infuriatingly.

“Fraser, put your cup in the sink then you can play.” The hotness on her neck was growing and Kim could feel herself becoming furious. This was typical behaviour from her brother, but Kim was simply not willing to put up with it today. She had had a horrible day at school, had her me-time ripped from her, made to run an errand that was not hers and now this.

“But I want to PLAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!” He screeched like an angry piglet. Kim covered her ears as his scream pierced her brain. 

“Put. Your cup. In. The sink.” Kim snarled, softly now. It was taking every fibre of her strength not to do something stupid. “If you don’t, I’ll tell your mum. And dad. And I’ll hide the remote so you can’t watch the telly. And, I’ll put the cakes up high so you can’t get them. It’s up to you.” 

There was a tense silence. Kim’s nails dug into her elbows so hard she was sure she would draw blood, waiting for his next move. Finally, Fraser stomped his feet and flailed his arms like a mad dirvish.

“FINE!” He snarled, snatching his cup and began stomping to the kitchen. Kim did not care for his bad mood, he could sulk as much as he wanted. Maybe this would teach him some manners for once. Her body relaxed and she felt the hotness fade away. Good, she thought as she turned to grab her jacket, now she could heat up her lemon tea and-

SMACK!

Kim recoiled as something hard and plastic struck the back of her head. She whipped her head around, and Fraser stood there, arms folded and with a smug little smirk on his daft face. On the floor behind her was the cup. The hotness came rushing back, as if the back of her neck was impaled by a red hot iron. 

“Did you just-?!” Kim spluttered, but before she could finish, the boy let out a mad giggle and took off up the stairs. “Fraser!!” Kim roared as she, releasing the grip on her own patience, tore after him. Her throat tightened and her heart raced with fury. Fraser had sped up the stairs and slammed his door shut. Kim had to suppress the urge to charge straight through the wood and open the door in the more traditional manner. “Did- did you,” Kim panted, her fists clenched and shaking furiously, “Did you throw that cup at me?!” Fraser looked up from his bed, feigning ignorance. 

“No.” He lied.

“Yes you did!”  Kim snapped, pointing a finger at him, “You threw that da- that cup at me! You don’t throw things at people! Say you’re sorry!” She meant it. Kim, knowing that she was dealing with a daft and spoiled four year old, had guessed that if he just said sorry, she would ignore all of these shenanigans. It would be easy. Too bad it was Fraser she was battling.

“No!” Fraser grabbed a toy truck, eyeing Kim dangerously. The poker pressing into her neck was thrusted in harder. She stared at him. Perhaps it was the intensity, but she could feel a hot pressure build behind her eyes, as if someone was pushing them from behind. 

“Don’t.” Kim growled, her eyes firmly on the truck “You. Dare.” 

Fraser swung back his arm, and threw the truck.

It all happened so quickly, and so unexpectedly. Kim felt the toy strike her shin and, unable to contain it anymore, she let out a shriek of pain. And as she did, there was a flash and a swirl of colour. Her head thobbed so furiously that she shut her eyes to block out the pain. Fraser was screaming and she could hear things crashing around the room. It was as if someone had grabbed her by the neck and was throwing her above their head, she felt ill and thoroughly discombobulated, all of her senses were being tossed sickeningly. And as quickly as it began, it stopped.

It was silent. Everything was still. But Kim still did not open her eyes. Her migraine had reached such a crushendo that it felt as though her head was being split open. The pressure behind her eyes had gone, and so had the hotness on the back of her neck. Keeping her eyes closed, Kim felt her way to the door, using the wall as support. Her legs felt weak. As she was about to leave the room, a terrible thought ran through her head. Fraser? He was not making any noise.

"F...Fraser?" she growled through her teeth, afraid to speak. Almost at once, there was a loud and droaning wail, like a broken vuvuzela and Kim knew that he was okay. It was the same wail he always made when he did not get his way. Trying to drown it out, Kim stumbled to her room and flopped onto her bed where, as soon as her head hit the pillow, she passed out. She could not even begin to question what had happened. All she did know, was that Trudy was going to truly flip her lid.