I run my fingers through my damp hair and sit next to Marcus on the couch. It’s evening. Dinner has ended and it’s still raining. After dinner, we have two hours of free time, either spent in one of the four common rooms or our dorms. At nine though, we have to be in our rooms and have to be showered by ten.
I can’t stop myself from shivering. Working for six hours in the rain has left over half the people here soaked. Lyra and a boy I met outside, Caleb, are sitting next to each other by the fireplace. He told me that Lyra was mute for reasons unknown.
Meanwhile, Rae was sitting with her other brothers, Violet was sitting with Scarlet who was also shivering, and Dillon was talking with Skye. I hug my arms closer to my body, hoping for more warmth, and sigh.
“Cold?” I turn to see Chase standing with a blanket. I stand up and let him drape it around me. His hands linger on my shoulders longer than they need to, but when I look down at them, he pulls away.
“Thanks,” I tell him. I sit down on the hardwood floor and lean against the couch. Chase sits down next to me, his shoulder pressed against mine.
“How did you get here?” he asks me. That question brings me back six years ago; the night my parents were killed. Then to when they attacked our village. The memories are too overwhelming. I turn away from Chase as tears begin to run down my cheeks.
“Oh, I’m sorry Olivia,” he says gently. “I didn’t mean to…” He trails off as I face him again. He leans close to me and when he speaks his voice is low. “When I was four, my parents divorced. My mother moved to another country and I never saw her. I lived with my father until he died two years ago from cancer.” His hazel eyes are fighting to stop tears. I can’t imagine how horrible that must feel; to have a mother that is alive, but isn’t there to care for her son.
“You didn’t have to tell me that,” I whisper.
“Maybe I didn’t. And you don’t have to tell me your story if you don’t want to. I know it’s hard to face the past sometimes, but some things are almost worth it.” He give me a faint smile then wraps me in his arms. I break away skeptically and even more so say,
“My parents were killed six years ago. Marcus’s and mine, Skye’s, and Dillon’s.” I spoke louder than I had intended to. And the moment the words escaped my mouth, it was as if a spell silencing everyone was cast on the room. The other few people who were in her too left. Everyone else stared at me. Chase had a mix of horror and compassion in his expression. Dillon, Skye, and Marcus have remorse in theirs. The others were surprised, then once they realized they had heard correctly, they realized how unbelievable it still was.
“What?” Scarlet asks. She and everyone else gravitate closer together.
“It’s true,” Skye whispers, biting her lip. “We lived in an orphanage until about a month and a half ago. Then we were allowed to go home. But…then…” she buries her face in her hands and Marcus and Dillon turn toward her. Marcus has told me how he feels about Skye when we were awake keeping watch in the woods and he surely loves her.
“Then,” Dillon starts, voice solemn, “the people who killed our parents attacked our village…bombed our houses…and…” he trails off.
“They are still after us,” Marcus continues. “That night we fled to the woods, and traveled farther away from the village over the course of about a week. We fought them…but…” I know what’s coming next.
“We lost Rose,” Skye whispers, barely audible. I’m surprised she said anything at all. Dillon hugs her and holds her in his arms. I miss Rose a lot, but I can’t imagine how Skye feels.
No one speaks. Everyone has a look of grief, now that they know what we’ve been though. Chase hugs me again.
“You didn’t have to tell me that,” he whispers.
“Maybe I didn’t. But neither did you,” I point out. He gives a stifled laugh.
Several more minutes are spent silent, then Scarlet speaks.
“Our mom died when we were both really young.”
“Then because our dad was so depressed, he became an alcoholic and a drug addict and started acting illegally,” Violet continues. “Once it came to peoples’ attention, some officials brought us here.” How awful that must be; having a father who sank so deep into depression that he couldn’t even care for his daughters.
“Both our mother and our father died in a car accident four years ago,” Isaac says. Rae sinks into Seth’s arms and buries her face in his shoulder while Isaac puts his arm around Caleb. Lyra remains silent, staring at the floor. I look around the room at everyone grieving.
“I’m sorry I brought this up,” I say sympathetically.
“Don’t worry about it,” Isaac assures me. Everyone nods.
At nine o’ clock, we all return to our rooms. Everyone hugged and said goodnight and I realize how much I wish I could stay with Marcus. I don’t know how Rae handles being apart from her brothers. Skye and I share a room with Scarlet and Violet, and I’m grateful that they’re people we know.
Before bed, we all got a chance to shower. It felt good to wash the lank, disgusting feel out of my hair and the dirt from under my nails. When I lay down on my bed in a plain, white nightgown, I ask Scarlet a question I was almost afraid to ask.
“How long do people stay here?”
“Until you turn twenty-one and are legally allowed to live on your own,” she says regretfully. I am not staying her for five years.
“Well why can’t you just run away?”
“In retrospect, you could. But it’d be a challenge to do so without getting caught and punished.” I’m in no mood to ask what the punishment.
That night, I lay wide awake. I stare out the window, wondering how far away home is. Soon, I can’t handle it anymore. I leave the room, tiptoe down the halls and up the stairs until I reach room three-sixteen. Quietly, I slide the door open and make my way to Marcus’s sleeping figure. As I crouch down by the side of his bed, his eyes flicker open.
“Olivia,” he whispers. I give a weak smile as a tear slides down my cheek. He props himself up on his elbow. “Olivia, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t feel safe. I don’t feel like we’re safe; you, Skye, Dillon, all of us. I don’t want them to find us again.” He slides to the far end of the bed. “I probably shouldn’t be here,” I warn. But I climb in anyway.
“Everything will be fine,” he tells me. “As long as we stick together.” Our parents’ words.
Then, I fall asleep wrapped safely in my brother’s arms.
No comments:
Post a Comment