The groceries were supposed to be there any minute. Jimmy, a young white boy, was delivering them now and Liliha wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Not because he was white, although it didn’t help his case, bu because she didn’t know him. She hadn’t let Kenuah into her house, even after three years delivering for her. She hadn’t let anyone into her house since her parents died. Or were killed. Or whatever the story was now.

Twelve Years Earlier

“Lily, i know you don’t want to go, but this is a very important day for your father and we all need to be there,” Mama said.

Liliha’s hands flew as she signed out her message. “There will be many people there. I do not like crowds. I do not want to leave the island, Mama.”

She hadn’t been able to speak since birth, and that may have contributed to her rejection of society. However, it may simply be because she was raised in such a small community.

“You don’t have an option, honey,” Mama sighed.

Angrily, Liliha walked to the airport with her parents and left for the airport. After two ferry rides, her brother’s whining, and a short taxi ride, they arrived at the tiny airport just in time for her flight to the mainland. Her mother carried the luggage, and Liliha towed her little brother along by the hand.

“Come on Lakopa, we need to go,” Mama urged him along.

When they landed in the South Californian sun, Liliha was startled by the number of people present. It must have surpassed the population of the entire island and she could not remember feeling less comfortable in her life.

“You’re okay, Lily,” Mama cooed, “Relax. Nothing bad will happen.”

“Liar.” Liliha signed.

“Just take your brother and wait for the carousel. I’ll be right along this counter if you need anything. Son’t give me any attitude, your father will be over in a minute. Don’t miss our bags.” Mama was irritated by her daughter’s resistance but didn’t show it and pushed her children toward the baggage claim.

Liliha grasped her brother’s arm firmly when he pulled away from her and wiggled in a childish manner. She knew her effort was wasted; she would never control him. She turned around to return the young miscreant, but her mother was not at the counter she promised to remain near.

Liliha felt herself beginning to panic, but she kept calm so as not to alarm Lakopa. She searched the area for her mother or the arrival of her father, but no one was in sight. She awaited the arrival of their bags on edge, hoping her mother would return and the whole thing could be forgotten.

Liliha waited for half an hour after all the bags had come through and her brother was getting fussy. She held his hand as they walked through the airport, searching for a familiar face and coming up dry. Eventually, she settle for the dark uniforms of airport security as consolation.

“What can I help you with little lady?” The strange man asked her in a tone she found patronizing.

She tried to sign to him, slowly and smoothly, but her message fell flat from the still air of the evening. She nudged her brother who knew the situation, but had no understanding of its severity.

“We can’t find Mommy and Daddy,” the six-year-old mumbled.

“How long have they been away from you?” the man asked.

Liliha looked at her brother, urging him to suddenly understand the language of her world. After a few seconds, she pulled a tablet and marker from her carry-on bag.

“My name is Liliha and this is my brother Lakopa. We’re from Hawaii. Our mother sent us to baggage claim while she was at the rental counter. She was there one minute, but when I turned to take him back to her, she was nowhere in sight. That was almost an hour ago.”

The man led Liliha and Lakopa back through dark hallways into a secured area of the airport and announced over the intercom that they were looking for the parents of two children. After a time with no response, people began to pour into the room then leave just as quickly. More security, the police, and various others came through the doors, but the absence of her parents made Liliha more and more anxious by the millisecond.

The police questioned the siblings together, Liliha with a clean notepad and Lakopa simply trying his best. Then, after what seemed like days in custody, the police sent them back to live with their aunt on the big island.

After just a week in that arrangement, Liliha moved back to her childhood home on her own and refused company. Soon her relatives gave up trying and accepted her lifestyle for what it was, no matter how wrong they thought it to be.

Present

The doorbell rang and Jimmy waited for Liliha to acknowledge the delivery, then left the groceries in the designated basket. After all the years of service, the grocers knew every quirk of hers they had to be aware of, dairy was not permitted, no yellow packaging or foods; they would never risk losing their most loyal customer.

Liliha knew she was weak and she hated herself for it, but she still couldn’t fight her gag reflex at such a sunny color as yellow. Maybe because of the daylight that burned so much.

She opened the hidden door and pulled the basket of groceries inside and took them to her kitchen. She could feel her anxiety level creeping up like mercury on a hot day and, before she knew it, she was descending the stairs. She began through twisting hallways, all the while nearing a Cold War era panic room. The Second World War had sparked panic on the islands, and her grandparents were some of the first to prepare against future attacks. The chamber saw more use now than it did in any war time.

Her panic room comforted her. Nothing could get her there; not air, not space, not light, and definitely not her parents’ killers. She felt safe, comfortable, safe until the distant ring of the telephone startled her to full awareness. That state of mind gave her an urge to climb to a very high place and jump, jumo and never look back.

She listened to the phone ring, willing her solicitor to give up. Who called a mute girl anyway? Finally, she exited her room and picked up the phone down the hall. She assumed it would be her aunt; everyone else had given up on her. Following usual suit, she marked her presence with a single key tone.

“Hi, it’s Lakopa,” her brothers voice shook through the phone. “Lily, I’m worried about her. I’m coming over tomorrow. I’m staying for a week. You need help.” The phone clicked dead. She hadn’t seen her brother since she was thirteen, and she certainly hadn’t concerned herself with his behavior thus far

She knew what he meant by help. She wanted to die. He meant that he wanted her to leave her comfort zone; he wanted her to change. She knew he was being completely unrealistic. She slid her hand along her arm, counting each scar, all meticulously, perfectly parallel, remembering each time she had retraced those lines. Her lines.

Slowly, she made her way towards dangerously open spaces. She knew her brother would arrive early, and she knew he would start right away. She hated having to act like this was really a functional living space.

Lakopa arrived with the sun and set immediately to opening the curtains. Every single one. She followed behind him, closing them rapidly.

“Why, Lily?” her brother asked her.

“It burns,” she said with her hands.

“No, it doesn’t. No excuses Lily, you can’t close out the world,” Lakopa warned.

“I do what I want,” she signed, walking away as her brother resumed opening curtains.

Liliha entered her small, windowless bedroom, sat on the bed, and sobbed. She knew her brother’s effort was in vain. She won’t change because she doesn’t need help. She doesn’t need help and he should just go away.

Hoping to void further conflict with her brother, she locked her door and slept until daylight had vanished. She thought her brother would have given up by then, but he awaited her on the couch.

“Lily, you can’t hide. I’m doing this because I love,” Lakopa told her.

She glared, “Go to hell. And leave me alone in the process,” she signed swiftly and retreated to the kitchen. She gathered food and a blanket and headed to her panic room to continue her nap.

Later, she ascended to the upper level, much to her brother’s joy.

“Lily, I was starting to worry. Thank you for coming back.”

Liliha looked into her living room and saw that her couch had been pressed against the opposite wall of its former position, now facing the window. The decades old black-out curtains had been completely removed from their rods and her house was too bright, even in the lingering gray of early morning.

She couldn’t take it. Not only had he invaded her comfort zone, but completely eliminated it. Liliha was infuriated.

She turned to her brother. “What did you do?” she questioned.

“I changed it. It’s just a little bit, Lily. I only did this room. And I cleaned the kitchen. That’s it.”

She entered the kitchen. Nothing was the same. The counters smelled of bleach, the appliances changed angle, and he had synchronized her clocks. Her bare feet stuck to the floor, and the cracks that had so long marked her patterns had been bleached from sight.

“This is not okay,” Liliha signed. She grabbed the empty coffee pot off the counter, clenched her hand several times around the handle, then launched it at her brother. It impacted his skull with a satisfying thud then splintered when it impacted the floor.

“Lily?”

She grabbed a long shard from the mess, felt her fingers slice from the grip, then plunged it into his esophagus.

She does not need help.