Until Today

To all of my fellow survivors,

who I know have the courage and strength to find their day. Also, to my wonderful daughters, Karlyssa and Shalyn,

who I hope will always make the most of every day.

Chapter One

“Some things just never change around here,” my mom says from behind me. I wonder how many times I've heard her say that.

“What'd I do now?” I turn around, holding the musty box I was trying to fit into the back of our SUV. “Give me a break – at least I'm out here helping.”

Does she think I'm having fun helping her pack and repack all my brother's stuff? I could think of lots of things I'd rather be doing.

“Katrine, it can't be that difficult to get everything in properly the first time.” Glaring at the pile of boxes, Mom swipes a wisp of hair out of her eyes.

I hate it when Mom uses my real name; it always means
she's ticked off. She grabs the box out of my hands and frowns at the mess inside the SUV. Her blonde hair is pulled back from her flushed face, except for those few wisps that have escaped her ponytail. Even with a frown and a red face, she still manages to look pretty. I feel like the ugly duckling standing beside her, with strands of hair plastered to my face and neck.

It's unusually hot for the beginning of September and we're both sweating from packing Jared's stuff. I'm tired, hot, and sick of hearing about his upcoming university adventure. Lucky me – I'm stuck here for a few more years.

“I really want to get this done before your father gets out of the shower,” Mom says.

Of course, get it done before Dad has a fit because we messed up his neat piles.
“It's not my fault that Jared's so disorganized. He keeps bringing out more stuff.”

Mom sighs. “I know, Kat.” She puts an arm around my shoulder, making me even warmer. “I just can't believe that he's leaving for university already. You guys are growing up so fast.”

A pool of sweat builds on my shoulder where her arm is resting. My throat burns from fighting back tears. She can't make me feel any worse about Jared's leaving. My control is melting as fast as ice on hot asphalt. Squirming out from under her arm, I run toward the house, swiping at the tear that manages to escape.

The house is so quiet, and he hasn't even left yet. Jared adds the excitement and commotion to our home. He does three or four different things at once and always has friends
over. Mom is wrong…some things
are
changing, just not the things that should.

My little sister, Sarah, is watching another Disney movie in the family room. It must be nice to just sit there and ignore all the craziness around here. I finally find Jared in the kitchen where he's busy eating, as usual.

“You know, maybe Mom's right when she says some things never change.” I punch Jared in the shoulder. “We're slaving out there in the heat for you, and you're sitting in the air-conditioned kitchen stuffing your face.”

Jared flashes one of his irresistible grins. Well, that's what some of the girls at school say about his smile. It must be true, since my annoyance begins to fade. “Ah, but things
are
going to change. Mom is wrong this time. I'm going to have the time of my life at university.”

Yeah, things may change for you, but definitely not for me.
A chill creeps up my back, giving me shivers.

“What's up, Kat? You can't be cold in this heat.”

I force a weak smile. “It must be the air-conditioning because I'm so sweaty.”

“Hey, Champ! You ready? We really should hit the road soon.” Dad swaggers into the kitchen, his hair wet from the shower. I can think of no better way to describe the confident stride of my broad-shouldered father. Jared inherited Dad's build and dark, good looks. Sarah and I are pale and fair, like Mom.

“Yeah, in a minute. Let me just finish my sandwich.” Jared stuffs another bite into his mouth. I can't believe he can fit so much food in there at once. It's a wonder he doesn't have a trophy in his room for eating. He seems to have one for everything else.

“Mom's still trying to find room for everything. Jared brought out some last-minute stuff
again
.” I look pointedly at my brother, whose only response is a shrug and a sandwich-stuffed smile.

“What? I'd better get out there. She'll never get everything to fit properly.”

Dad's attitude is so annoying that I fail to bite my tongue in time. “She's handling it just fine. She doesn't need your help.”

Dad glances at me and heads toward the door of the kitchen, mumbling about the attitude of the Thompson females.

I'm about to tell him exactly how controlling he can be, when Jared – forever the peacemaker – jumps in. “Dad, relax. Mom has it under control, or Kat and I never would've come in. Grab some food. It's a long drive.”

Dad pauses and grins at Jared. When hasn't he listened to Jared? “You're right there, Champ. I might as well make myself a sandwich. We have to wait for Greg and Amy, anyway. They're on their way over to say good-bye.” He turns toward the family room to yell at Sarah. “Hey, Princess, come and have something to eat before we go.”

Greg
. Just the mention of his name flips my stomach. I run past Sarah to escape outside.

Struggling to keep my lunch down, I gulp fresh air, managing a few deep breaths before sprinting to our clubhouse down by the river. The sound of my feet hammering against the ground matches the rhythm of my pounding heart.

The familiar smell of damp earth, old wood, and musty curtains in the old clubhouse takes the edge off my panic.

The little hideaway is hot and muggy. I open the small window, and push the curtains aside. I remember how proud I was when Mom hung those frilly yellow drapes. I was only five or six. Jared was so upset that they had frills. I could count on one hand how often I got my way over my brother's.

A small breeze wafts through the window, but it's not enough to fight the muggy air. I grab one of Jared's old baseball bats and jam the door open with it. A peek outside tells me nobody is coming, so I move the stack of milk crates away from the wall and grab my little black book from its hiding place.

The familiar feel of the journal in my hands calms me, and I sit down at the old, wooden table that my dad made for us. The table and chairs seemed so big when we were younger, but now my knees almost touch my chin when I sit. Dad insists on leaving it here for Sarah, but she's not interested in playing in the clubhouse like Jared and I were.

Sarah is different and likes to do her own thing or hang out with Dad when he's around. The clubhouse basically belonged to my brother and me while we were growing up. Jared's baseball bats, soccer balls, footballs, baseball mitts, and other sports equipment litter the floor and shelves, even though Jared hardly sets foot inside anymore. My skipping ropes, tea sets, dishes, and Barbie stuff are still in the plastic milk crates that I just moved away from the wall. Dad used to duck in through the door, sit on the floor and play with me when I was younger. That hasn't happened for a long time, not since Sarah came along and replaced me as Daddy's little girl.

My fingers trace over my name. When I was eight, Jared thought it would be fun to carve our names in the table. He said that it would be something people would be able to read in the future to know we existed…like a caveman's drawing on the wall of his cave. Who was I to argue with my big brother? Jared's name is scrawled across one whole side of the table – as large as possible so everybody will remember him. My name is scribbled into one little corner. Scott and Steph, my best friends since we were kids, have their names on the table, as well as a few of Jared's buddies.

Our father threatened to add our names to a tombstone after he saw what we had done. He told us we had to look after things and respect our belongings, especially after the hard work he put into building that table for “a bunch of ungrateful kids.” We can laugh about the whole scene now, but at the time, I was afraid he would never talk to me again.

The memories fade when I glance at my journal. It contains so many other memories…some that I wish would go away forever. I open the book and stare at a blank page for a moment before picking up my pen.

Sunday, September 3.

Jared is leaving today. What am I going to do without him here? I feel so lost and alone. He's always been able to make me laugh when I've needed it. He's kept me sane and protected.

He'll be leaving soon. We're just waiting for Greg and Amy to get here so they can say good-bye.

Why do we have to wait for YOU to come? Why do YOU have to come? Why can't YOU just stay away?

I HATE YOU! I WISH YOU WERE DEAD!

The last word on the page smears as a single tear falls.

Chapter Two

I stare at the ugly words on the page.
Is it true? Could I hate you that much?

I swipe at my tears and continue writing.

I feel like a bad person for hating you so much, which doesn't seem fair. You make me do things I don't want to do. Was it my fault you did those things to me? Is there something wrong with me that I don't like your touch? I don't think so, but I'm just not sure of anything anymore.

Do I really wish you dead? Sometimes I wish you weren't part of my life and would stay away from my family. You're Dad's best friend and supposed to be like a trusted uncle to me. Trusted uncles don't do the things you do. Trusted uncles keep their hands to themselves.

You confuse me. Some days I want you to be that uncle, like when you and Amy took us to Disney World. Those times were great and I felt closer to you than to my own dad. I managed to forget about the other person you are. But now it's getting harder for me to forget.

More and more lately, you're the bad Greg, the one who hurts little girls. You've been hurting me and touching me since I was small, using force and threats when I cry and say no. I'm losing the Uncle Greg I used to love to the Greg I hate. I don't even know if I should be fighting this battle inside me anymore.

I don't know who I am. Am I the scared wimp who is afraid to stand up to you, or am I the girl who wants to fight what you're doing to me?

“Kat, are you down there?”

I jump up, knocking over the chair in my haste to get to the window. Scott and Steph are walking across the lawn, toward the clubhouse. Stashing the book behind the milk crates, I can feel my heart beating furiously at almost being caught writing about Greg in my journal.

Scott ducks his head under the doorway and peeks inside. “You're right, Steph. She's in here.” Scott grins. “You have to stop hanging out in here. I won't fit much longer.”

He has shot up over the last year and is already taller than
his dad. Sometimes it doesn't seem right having this big Scott in the clubhouse. All my memories are of a much smaller boy who would always tease and torment us. Scott was a lot like Jared when we were younger. But now that he wants to be a veterinarian, he has a more serious side.

Steph, the complete opposite of her twin, is carefree and takes things as they come. She's the most disorganized person I've ever met and has no idea what she wants to do with the rest of her life. Scott and Steph look alike with their wavy brown hair, brown eyes, and dark complexions, but that is as far as any similarity between the two goes.

Steph peeks around Scott. “What's up? You should be spending time with Jared.”

I shrug. “I just needed a break.”

“You okay?” asks Scott.

“Yeah. Why?”

Scott looks pointedly at my hands. I try to stop fidgeting and smile, but it feels more like a grimace. I put my hands behind my back, where they can't be seen.

“Yeah, I'm okay.” My thoughts whirl furiously as I try to forget about Greg and carry on a normal conversation. “It's just kind of nuts around here. My control-freak dad is driving everybody crazy. Mom finally told him to get lost and have a shower. She's annoyed because I'm not perfect like her. Sarah's just sitting in front of the TV in her own little world. As for Jared…he's too busy stuffing his face to help with anything.”

I catch my breath.
Stop rambling, or they'll read you like a book.

Steph laughs. “Sounds like a typical day in the Thompson household to me.”

“Kat, we're leaving!” Mom's shout rattles me. I dread having to say good-bye to my brother with Greg watching every move I make.

Tears pool in my eyes. “I guess this is it.”

We walk across the backyard, Scott's arm draped over my shoulder. “It'll be fine. You can call him, and he'll be home to visit.”

“I know, but it's not the same. I don't think it'll ever be the same again.” I look over my shoulder for one more glimpse of the clubhouse. The Private – Adults Keep Out sign that Jared and I painted in red and black letters still hangs crookedly above the door.
The next time Jared steps in there, he won't be one of us. He'll be one of those adults the sign tries to keep out. Some things do change.

By the look on Mom's face, it's a safe bet that her mood hasn't improved.

“Kat, where have you been? Your father was ready to leave, but Jared insisted we find you first. Dad isn't happy with the delay.”

There it is again – that familiar feeling of guilt and anger that seems to live inside me these days.

“Give me a break. I wasn't gone long.”

Mom checks her watch. “Jared said it was over an hour ago when he saw you in the kitchen. Greg and Amy have been here for a while.” She turns and marches to the front of the house, leaving me to glare at her retreating back.

Steph links her arm through mine. “Boy, she's in a mood.”

Greg's voice echoes from the front of the house. I steer Scott and Steph through the patio door. “Let's go through the house.”

Jared bursts in just as we're about to open the front door.

“Hey Kat, we've been waiting for you. Where've you been?”

Breaking away from Scott and Steph, I throw my arms around Jared's neck. “Do you really have to go?” What a stupid question. I know he has to go, but that's the first thing that pops out of my mouth.

“Yeah, I do. You'll have your turn in a few years, and then you'll understand. You'll have a blast while I'm gone. Those two over there will make sure of it.” Jared pulls me off his neck and points at Scott and Steph. “Think of how quiet the house will be. You won't have to yell at me to shut up when you're trying to study.”

That's true. Jared's music and friends always drive me insane when I'm trying to work.

My father's voice thunders from outside, making me cringe.

“Don't let Mom and Dad bother you. Maybe Dad'll lay off once I'm gone. I know he can be a jerk. And if he lays off, Mom'll probably relax a bit.”

“I know, Jared. It's just going to be so different.”

“I have to go.” Jared hugs me one last time. He waves to Steph and slugs Scott on the shoulder before he opens the door.

“Oh, yeah,” Jared stops and turns around. “Sarah doesn't want to come with us now, so Greg and Amy are staying with her until you get home from work tonight.”

“What? Why did she change her mind? Jared, she has to go with you.”

My father shouts impatiently from outside.

“Sorry, Kat. Got to go.” Jared turns and disappears through the front door.

Steph puts an arm around my shoulder. “He never changes – here one minute and gone the next.”

Greg shouldn't be staying with Sarah, even with Amy around. What if he manages to get Sarah alone?

“Hello, Kat. Anybody in there?” Scott teases, knocking on my head.

“Yeah, I'm here,” I answer, pushing his hands away.

“We're heading out so you can get ready for work. You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm okay. See you later. Thanks.”

I watch Scott and Steph through the front window. They wave to my parents and Jared, who are pulling out of the driveway. I fight the loneliness as I turn and mope my way to my bedroom.

The house is quiet – Sarah, Greg, and Amy must still be outside. It's already weird not hearing Jared's footsteps in the house. The tears that I have been fighting all day start to fall, and I no longer try to stop them.

A glimpse of my reflection in the mirror distracts me. I never really associate myself with the girl staring back at me.

The blonde stranger looks pale, and her long hair could use a trim, especially the bangs that will soon hang over the blue eyes. She's not really ugly or pretty – just average. She could lose a few pounds, but nobody would notice because nobody really looks close enough. She's somebody who doesn't stand out in a crowd. You'd never know how messed up she is inside.

“Are you in there, Kat?” Amy's voice on the other side of my bedroom door startles me.

“Yeah, I'm changing.” My voice has a funny squeak.

“Okay. Do you want Greg to give you a ride to work?”

The panic starts to claw at me. “N-n-n-no. That's okay, I'll walk. I have lots of time.”

“Are you sure? He doesn't mind.”

“Yeah, I'm sure.”

“Okay. We'll be outside with Sarah.”

Amy's footsteps fade down the hall. The last thing I need is a ride to work with Greg. If I hurry, maybe I can sneak out of the house and not see him. I change into clean clothes and open the door.

“Shoot, I should grab a sweater,” I mumble, turning around to grab the sweatshirt I threw on my dresser last night. The days are warm, but it gets cool in the evenings.

“Hello, Kat. I'd almost think you're avoiding me, but that can't be true.”

I freeze, with my back to the door. How did Greg sneak down the hall without my hearing him? The ringing in my ears and pounding in my chest make me feel weak and dizzy.

The sudden touch of his hand on my shoulder makes me drop my sweatshirt. I feel his fingers massaging my shoulder, creeping under my sleeve to stroke bare skin.

“Turn around. I'd like to see my special girl.”