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chapter 1 - trouble in small heath
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BEN HADN'T COME HOME.
This wasn't an irregular occurrence. Ben spent most of his nights getting plastered. Most of his days, too. But Ellie had gotten used to it. Nowadays, it was more strange to hear his footsteps down the hall at late hours than it was not to. So, when Ellie woke up, and looked at his dust covered sheets undisturbed, she knew she had to go out.
Out to his haunts, to the streets and the alleyways, and the muddy paths down by the river. She had to go out, carry her brother home, and put him back to bed as if he were her child rather than her older sibling. Ellie wished this wasn't her routine, but the reality was that she ran the house, brought in the money, and cared for Ben as best she could. It should've been the other way around, and in the back of her mind, Ellie resented her brother, because it was his fault that it wasn't.
So, as the sun began to rise over Watery Lane, Ellie slipped on her dress and shoes, checked her hair in the mirror, and made her way out the door while grabbing her coat and purse. The air was chilly, but Ellie didn't mind. The wind woke her up. Dirt, mud and rocks crunched under her shoes as she made her way to the Marquis Pub to see if her brother was slumped against the wall or asleep on a barstool. But when she pushed open the door, the place was empty. On the floor, broken pieces of a table had been swept into a pile, and some chairs were knocked over. "Hello?" she called out.
