Hunted

Nine: Falling Apart

The grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimed, greeting ten o'clock with a solemn fanfare. Charlotte sat on the sofa staring at the dying embers in the fire, her arms wrapped around her shins, her mind lost to her thoughts. Following their meal they had retreated to the drawing room, a large room, cluttered with too many mismatched chairs and weird ornaments. It had been almost an hour since the others had disappeared leaving her alone. Freddie had needed to return to bed, his remaining energy spent. Matt had insisted on helping him back to his room, smiling and laughing with his brother as he had draped Freddie's arm around his neck and took most of his weight. Harris had gone too, needing to organise Freddie's next treatment. Rhian had bid Charlotte goodnight with a kind smile, promising that Matt would return to show her to her room when he was ready.

Charlotte tapped the face of her old leather watch, the mechanisms seized up from her narrow escape with James from the Western Cliffs. She sniffed weakly at her new circumstances, all her energy sapped from her body, too exhausted to care. Daphne Haskins had failed to make an appearance, which Charlotte was intensely thankful for, especially after overhearing Matt's phone call with her the previous day. She had quite liked Daphne on the island but everything had changed now – the island felt like an age ago, a different existence, a different Charlotte.

The door screeched open, its hinges desperately in need of an oiling, and Matt peeped his head inside, his eyes falling on her uneasily. Charlotte shifted in the seat uncomfortably, deeply aware of the shadow of fear that accompanied him. He walked into the room and cleared his throat, acting as if he was a stranger, an acquaintance, unsure of what to do or say.

"How are you feeling?" he breathed. "Has your headache passed?" Charlotte's stomach clenched angrily as he emphasised the word 'headache', as if he didn't believe her. She frowned wondering if her mind was not exaggerating his tone, if it was just trying to find fault in him.

"Yes, thank you," she muttered politely, trying to avoid another argument. She heard him sigh audibly as he approached, sitting on the powder-blue sofa opposite her.

"Charlotte..." he exhaled, gazing at her. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help you," he said in a tight tone. Charlotte gazed at him, as if only seeing him for the first time. His mischievous, glinting eyes were nowhere to be seen. Instead they had been replaced with bruised, troubled eyes, flat and cold. How long until he hates me? Charlotte couldn't stop the vicious thought creeping into her mind. I hate me right now- weak, she growled.

"I don't think you can," she breathed, trying to keep the resentment from her voice, though she didn't know who that resentment was directed at.

"I know you are angry at me, but..." he frowned as if he didn't know how to finish the sentence, as if he didn't want to finish it.

"Ok Matt," she breathed, trying to hold on to her patience. "I don't want this to fall into another argument, but could you for once look at this from my point of view". He stared at her, his lips pressed together, as if giving her permission to speak, but his eyes were wide as if he feared what she might say. She dropped her legs to the floor, grasping the overly long sleeves of her pale pink, knitted jumper, trying to instil confidence in herself. "I had just won the exhibition of the century. I was finally playing the game, behaving as I should, displaying my alterations, impressing the patrons. I had figured things out with James – he had promised me... promised me, if I didn't..." she paused, taking a steadying breath and blinking away the tears. "And now it is just gone. I have no control, no hope. My friends, my family are on that island. James is on that island. Everything I have known, every memory, my entire identity is on that island".

Matt opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand, cutting across him. "No – I need to say this," she whispered, her voice painfully low, but strong. "That place was hell and I would have given anything – no everything – to leave it and have this chance. I know what you have given me – I know! But that doesn't make it easier. I am here with the knowledge that Iseult, Ian, James... they are all still there. And who knows what hell they are going through because of my disappearance?" She fixed him with what she hoped was a strong gaze. "And the hardest part, the part that is tearing me up inside, that is killing me, is that I never had the chance to make up my own mind! I never had the chance to say goodbye, to tell them how much I... how much I..."

She paused again, taking another steadying breath. She coughed clearing the emotion from her voice. "I understand James – I know his motives, I am still unsure of yours, but whatever they are, it did not give either of you the right to make this decision for me".

"I have spent my whole life with people trying to control me, horrible people. The last thing I ever thought is that you – either of you – would try to control me! It breaks my heart, tears me apart every single time I think about it," Charlotte breathed, her voice catching in her throat. "There is so little of myself that I can still cling to, and now I am in a world, a world where I don't belong. I don't know what to do, who I am. At least on the island, with my own kind I was somebody, I meant something, but here... here I just..." The tears had started to roll down her cheeks, and she found she couldn't stem them. She found it hard to believe there were any left in her. "What do I do now? Where do I go?" She pressed her fists to her eyes, willing the tears to stop, but too weak to command them away. She hiccoughed, her shoulders shaking, unable to stop herself, unable to control herself.

"Charlotte..." Matt breathed, his voice tight. He knelt before her, pulling her hands away from her eyes, holding them to his chest. She could feel his body heat against her icy fingers, warming them back to life. His dark eyes were pools of pain, reflecting her grief, her helplessness. "I don't know what to say... I'm sorry," he breathed, his dimples appearing even with his serious expression. "I never stopped to think about any of it... I just..."

"I get it. I mean I've been so angry... I am still angry – so god damn angry," she sobbed through gritted teeth. "I feel pathetic and selfish. I can only imagine what you've been going through – I mean with Freddie, but I just..." Her fingers had started to tremble where he held them. He seemed to notice, though his pained gaze never left her face. He held them comfortingly in his warm hands, his eyebrows furrowing. "I mean I don't want you to hate me... I can't – I just don't know how to be me anymore".

"Charlotte, I don't hate you – I could never hate you," he breathed, drawing her towards him so that her forehead rested against his.

"Matt you don't understand I just feel so... empty," she whispered.

At these words he smiled, a sad, knowing smile. "Charlotte, I know what it's like – the anger, the helplessness... for a moment you forget and then it comes back and it's like there's a gaping hole inside you. You feel guilty that for that moment you weren't thinking about them, that you forgot..." he trailed off. "I just hate to think I caused that in you, but I had to... I couldn't just walk away. I would never have forgiven myself if he had murdered you". She paused at him, unwilling to tell him again that she was able to handle herself, knowing he would never listen. In any case it was too late now. She couldn't undo what they had done. She could only regret it.

"It's not just... It's my alteration as well," she breathed, knowing he couldn't possibly understand. "It's angry too – and if it's angry it means I'm... dangerous," she whispered, her voice fading away as she pinched her eyes tightly closed. "I can barely stay in control. I want to... attack – badly! I just want to feel anything... anything but this," she sniffed, breaking down once more into sobs. Matt released her hands, pulling her into a strong and comforting hug, rocking her back and forth, trying to sooth her, trying to sooth her alteration.

Charlotte didn't know how long they had stayed there, or how long he had held her, but sleep must have taken her, giving a moment's rest to her weary mind. She woke much later, the fire having lost its heat, as he lifted her from the drawing room, carrying her away without a word. Charlotte pressed her face reflexively against his neck, breathing deep his smell, holding her cold fingers against his throat, marvelling at the beat of his pulse against her palm. She didn't say a word and he didn't speak either, as he lifted her easily up the stairs. Charlotte closed her eyes and allowed herself drift back to sleep, trying to focus on Matt, the one thing she did have, and tried to forget about all the things she had lost.

 Thanks as always for reading! I hope you are enjoying it so far - if you are please don't forget to vote and comment! I would love to hear your feedback! Thanks again :D Sorcha x