ELBINA 3

Chapter 13

Elbina
It's still dark outside and in all fairness, I hadn't slept.
The sofa wasn't all that comfortable, it wasn't exactly made for someone to sleep on it. I let Nero have the bed last night, at least then, someone in this flat would get some sleep.
I fumble with the blanket over me, the tense quiet in the flat deafening. I don't know what to do with it, and I hadn't known what to do with myself the entire night. The quiet snores from Nero through the door have faded now, he might even be awake, preparing himself for the day ahead. After all, we'd have to get there as early as possible.
I hope he stays in there for longer though, until I've snapped out of this.
My emotions lately can't really be defined as, or at least Nero never seemed to understand it when I tried to explain it to him.
I stare around the room for the hundredth time, even though everything is still the same.
Nero says it doesn't make any sense, and I try to tell him too that it's not all the time.
It's fleeting moments of it and it's random... I dont have any control over when I'll just stop feeling.
Of when i'll just suddenly feel empty.
And now... now is one of those moments.
Empty.
My stomach cavernous and hungry, yet sick all at the same time.
And my eyes drift without thought, not thinking about what I'm looking at and what that meant in the world.
You'd imagine it would be calming, and given the state of my emotions in the past and how much I wished I'd never had them.... you'd think, and I'd thought that I'd welcome this state.
I don't.
Because I hate floating.
In my head I imagine my hands grasping desperately for something to hold me to the ground. It's as if, staring off at the shelving unit... I can feel the tips of my fingers inching towards them but not quite reaching.
My head gets light and all of a sudden, I'm just in space.
Emotionless, non-existent, empty and stuck like that, unable to tear myself out of it.
What I need is someone to knock on my forehead before shaking me awake, but Nero never does that. In the corner of my eye, when I know he sees me like this... He steps away.
He probably thought I just needed some space, and I'm too stubborn to tell him that I needed him.
And maybe I'm a little scared that he might reject it too. He was never the type afterall, he'd be too uncomfortable which only makes me feel worse again anyway.
"Why are you crying?" I look up at the familiar voice, a gaping hole in my stomach eating away at me.
"Because you're not my family." I sound angry, and I remember I was too. Even though the primary emotion was sadness, I was fond of being angry. June knew that, it's something that seems obvious to me now.
She smiled, shaking her head as she sits on the edge of the bed. "And why would a silly thought like that get in your head?"
I grip my ankles, rocking back and forth on my butt. The bed sheets shuffling under me quietly, biting my lip in nerves still it stung.
"Faye at school said so." I hated admitting that, that her words had stirred me up and clung onto my insecurities. Faye was intelligent, and certainly grew up to be as such. She didn't grow up to be horrible either, so it's probably unfair that I remember this way. I'm pretty sure she was applying for some form of engineering course, whether she got that is another thing. I'm not sure if I'll even find out.
I remember ignoring the look June was giving me, reaching up and pulling at my tight braids. The pigtails that were always so tightly done by June so it pulled uncomfortably at some strands of hair, and no amount of tugging would release it. I always moaned about it, but the one or two times I went without it I'd complained more about the black frizzy hair getting in the way.
She let out a sigh, "And why do you think she would say that?"
"I'm adopted. Everyone knows that June. It's the first thing everyone thinks about at parents evening, it's my defining factor." I say with annoyance, but then I bristle at June's clipped response.
"So what?"
I get more angry this time, raising my voice at her. "What do you mean, so what! I'm not your kid! I'm just some nobody stuck in your house and causing you trouble. One slip up and I'll be gone from here, I'm replaceable unlike an actual daughter." Suddenly June claps her hands together, my back sits up straighter watching her.
"Well that's a relief." I clench my fists ready to snap at her but she jumps in with a smile on her face.
"Here I thought I was stuck with you! Paying for your food, clothes, housing and for goodness sakes the amount of time I have to go into the school because of a fight. And you're telling me I could have done that with Jake too!? Why didn't anybody tell me!?" I look back at her, a deadpan expression on my face.
"You're not taking me seriously at all, are you?" I huff.
Her head shakes, pointing a finger at me. "Actually, you're not taking me seriously... I'm stuck with you. I'm stuck loving you forever and stuck feeling proud of you and stuck feeling sad for everything that makes you sad. Believe me Ella, if I had the choice, if you weren't family and if I didn't love you with everything in me. I'd of tossed you out of the door years ago."
Normally, I would have cringed at the sentiment. This time, the tears just welled up. Because this time, I heard her loud and clear and I listened.
And I felt it.
I felt how certain she was and I felt the connection with her, that she'd be there for me. So i'd let her pull me to her in a fierce hug, so tight of a hug that I didn't think I'd ever feel alone again.
I wanted that feeling again, and as I get more and more regularity when it comes to this emotionless state, I desperately needed it.
Thankfully, this memory of that night helps me get out of it, it doesn't always work. Sometimes even, the thought makes everything worse... if I'm not careful that is, it's easy to think the bad from a good memory like that.
If I use it well, I focus on the connection with June. Even though the run of her fingers through the hairs at the nape of my neck seem faint now, and the colour of the jumper she wore seems lost in my vision. The feeling I got is still there.
A sense of belonging, and relief.
It's the only form of relief I've had in a long time now.
I missed her, I missed Jake.
And I'm scared I'm going to die before I'll ever see them again.
This time, when I open my eyes, I can touch the rough seams on the edge of the sofa. It's fabric sturdy and of a pale green colour. It's a horrible colour really, it reminded me of vomit.
I sat up now, arching my back trying to ease out the ache in my muscles and with already tired eyes I searched for the clock in the room. It sits by the door, just peeking out from behind the coat stand.
It's 4am.
Today's the day.
The light outside the window still isn't there yet, the streetlights however flicker against the neighboring flats. Rising up into the sky within the city as I look out of it now.
We're on the eigth floor, so the ground seems miles away and the high rise buildings on the other side of the city are just visible.
Is this the last time I'll look out at a view?
And did I even like this one?
I press my forehead against the glass pane, opening up the top of the window so a fresh breeze drifts in. Goosebumps formed on my skin instantaneously.
"It's an alright view." I almost jumped at his voice, the words jumbled up through the sound of a loud yawn from him.
I don't look back though, letting my shoulders shrug quietly in response. I can hear him moving through the kitchen, the sounds of glass and ceramics being moved around carelessly.
I cross my arms against the windowsill and continue staring out. How many people would be there today? Would they even listen to us when we tell them?
"Porridge?" He says from behind me.
"That's fine." I mumble, not tearing my eyes away from the different flecks of light and how they seem to dance along the glassed buildings. A tiny train in the distance silently moving along the track, coming back in and out of my vision from behind the other buildings surrounding the track.
The silence of it seems odd, when it should be bursting with light and sound. If we were right in the city centre, maybe it would still be loud. That the minute I'd open my window the life outside would pound in my head, it would be quieter of course then in the day, but it wouldn't seem right to be as quiet as this.
This was unsettling.
Nero had walked over, now leaning his shoulder against the wall as he looked at me with crossed arms.
"What's wrong?"
I chuckle humorlessly, "What's wrong?"
He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, I know but... There's something else." I tilt my head this time, eyeing him up and noticing he's more serious.
I gulp, letting out a worried breath.
"I don't know if he made it out." My teeth gnaw at my lip, it sat in the back of my mind since I left the safe house. All I'd left was a letter, a letter he may not have even read... never mind understood.
"You know." I look at him again, "You don't owe him anything."
"I owe him everything." I snap.
His hands lift up, an eyebrow raised in surrender. "Fine, be a bitter bitch."
I sigh, dropping my head against the window. "I'm sorry." I dig my head further into the window, it's hurting a bit but it's worth it. "I just feel guilty."
Suddenly he's walking off, a tension in the air and if I look back at him, his shoulders are taut and his fists are clenched.
"Sometimes you gotta do bad shit." He said, and I frowned.
"So you think it was a bad thing?" It takes him a couple of seconds before he looks back at me confused.
"Huh?"
"Cutting Lucas out like I did. You think it was a shit thing to do?" The window now on my back as I lean on it, my crossed arms stiff looking at Nero.
"Like I said. Even if you don't want to, you've got to hurt people to survive." I jump in before he can stop me,
"But that makes me selfish, doesn't it?"
"No!" He shouts aggressively. He doesn't get angry like this, never. Sure he'll be pissed off when he talks about Gerald but he never gets really angry. So this is an odd expression for him, I don't know how to take it.
"You did what you had to do! And the way he couldn't leave you alone was ridiculous, you didn't need it and you certainly didn't need him. Cutting him out was the best decision you could have made for the both of you... He'd only have gotten in the way." I'm shocked looking at him, it takes a few moments for me to grasp some form of a sentence together. But then, he's already pouring porridge oats into a pan, as if he hadn't just said what he did.
"He needed me." Nero slams the bag down onto the counter, eyeing me up.
"That was precisely the problem Elbina! He needed you..." He scoffed and my own fists tightened because of it. "And look at you now, you're so much better because of your choice."
I laugh suddenly, his brows furrowing further. "Better? I get that you ignore it every time I'm not, but that doesn't make me better now. Believe me Nero, I am not better!"
Nero shakes his head at me, turning and pouring water into the pan ignoring me for a few moments. It isn't until the stove has been turned on that he meets my eyes again in an annoyed expression.
"You know why you did it Elbina. Don't make me feel like a bad person now just because you regret it."
"I don't-" I try but he cuts me off.
"Yes you do. All I'm trying to do is remind you of the reasons why you did it, because from the way I see it... it was the best decision." He said.
"Tell me Elbina," He leans on the counter now, cocking his head in my direction. I shuffle on my feet. "What could you have really done to help him?"
My shoulders shrug, "I'm not sure, just be there and be someone who actually knew what he was going through."
His head shakes, "And you actually think that was going to help him?"
"Maybe." I say quietly.
"Two broken things don't fix anything... You weren't selfish, at the end of the day. You weren't capable of looking after yourself, nevermind Lucas." I jump in though, stepping closer to him.
"What if he never made it out? What if that guy got to him?"
"Then don't think that." I frown, he says it as if it's easy. "I don't have much doubt in my mind that someone who went through all of that and still wanted to see you... He'll have read the letter and he would have got the gist." He grasps a utensil from the side of the stove, stirring the porridge in the pan.
"What did you even write in it?" He's trying to sound absent minded, but he isn't because I can see his hand flicking a little at his side that tells me he's interested.
"I hinted at Harold Shipman." I make my way over, settling more and leaning my elbows on the counter as he keeps his back to me.
"Who's he?"
"A serial killer." This time, he looks at me with a weird expression. He probably thought I was odd, but then again, so is he.
Either way, I clarify for him, "We were obsessed with listening to murder podcasts before everything happened. It was our weekly thing that we did together, always." He nods along, and goes back to watching the stove. "And this particular one we found really interesting."
"What did he do?"
"Oh." I didn't think he'd want to know, "well. He was a doctor that was predicted to of killed over two hundred elderly patients at a practice in Manchester."
Nero pauses, his back taut before he turns around with an annoyed expression on his face.
"Manchester?" I nod, knowing I was going to face a backlash from this. "You're not seriously telling me you told them where we were heading!"
"I told Lucas."
"And you don't think they'd of read it too!" He's shouting at me now, so I sit back away from him. Taking my elbows off the counter as his glare meets my eyes.
"Probably, I wasn't thinking all that much but getting him out of there. That was the only way I could think to do it okay!"
"For god's sakes Elbina."
"I won't apologise for this."
"Of course you wouldn't." He scoffed quietly, "Thankfully it doesn't seem to have made a difference yet. Otherwise it's likely they would have found us by now." He's shaking his head at me like I'm some useless child. "Or maybe the minute we step out of this place today, it'll be over for the both of us and we won't get to stop shit from happening."
"You don't know that."
He ignores anything I've said, going back to finishing up at the stove and muttering to himself in frustration. "I just hope that Lucas doesn't get in the way." 
I felt bad.
Bad for a lot of things, and more importantly because Nero and I had worked incredibly hard to get to this point. The thought of it all going to shit because of one letter made me feel like an idiot.
But I still don't regret it.
Because what if it works?
What if he is safe because he did read it and he got out?
Then surely, it would be all worth it.