Colourless

Chapter Twenty-Six

Thank you so much for making me this fan cover ChosynSwim !

***

After discovering a bottle of champagne, my evening of chatting with new associates had grown much more thrilling. Making my way through a second glass, Malik's gasp almost made me scream in surprise. "What?" I hiss as his he tugs my arm, "I've had one and a half glasses, you don't need to drag me to an emergency AA meeting—"

"Nubia," Malik exclaims, rushing towards a beautiful woman and almost bowling her over. The woman laughed melodically and my eyes widened in realization. Their similar bone structure, same emerald eyes, same olive skin...

Tossing my champagne over my shoulder and hurriedly passing Charles my empty glass, I fix my dress nervously as Malik leads his sister towards us. "This is Nubia Ahmed," he introduces proudly, "My extraordinary, fabulous and amazing older sister."

I flash a smile, before my offered hand becomes crushed as she hugs me. "It's nice to meet you," she smiles as we pull away, her Californian accent tinged with something foreign.

"This is Pearl," Malik introduces as he winds an arm around my waist, "We're... together." He raises his eyebrows suggestively and Nubia smirks. She then offers a mock salute.

"Understood— I won't embarrass you too bad." I laugh, pleading for her to tell me all of the worst stories.

Something catches my attention behind Nubia. I inhale sharply and cover my mouth in shock. I'm not certain but... she makes eye contact and she definitely spots me too. I shriek and her arms are thrown around me as we each duck our heads into each others necks. She feels as comfortable and warm as I remember and she's still wearing that same perfume that to this day stains the pages of the books she left behind.

"Melissa." I whisper into the hair that matches my dark brown hair perfectly. The same beautiful dimples appeared with her radiant smile. This was my sister, who when I was little would whisper stories of grandeur into the darkness of my room as we huddled together under the covers.

She had seemed so adult when she left, and everyone had high ambition for her, she was intelligent, sensitive and my role model. That day she left was unusually cold, foreboding, and never had we dreamed that seeing her wave from the foggy window of the train on that chilly morning would be the last time we'd see her face.

Sometimes, if a family's blood and their child's blood, their ambitions and potential for the future too vastly different, then they were separated without mercy, without warning and without contact. Melissa could have become a slave and immediately been shackled and carted off like livestock to a life of unfulfillment, of closed doors and empty eyes. Or she could have been granted a life far more glamorous than ours, of movie shoots and stage lights.

Whatever her new life entitled, whether grand or lowly, it did not make acceptions for us.

Then this all happened, me being colourless, the discovery that my sister was colourless too, stationed over the border and so close but so far...

Now here she was. She was not as tall as I remembered, no longer looming heights above me, but at eye level.

She smiles softly, her hand comfortably playing with my fingers,

"Pearl. Pearl I missed you so much," she says softly, "I can't stay long, I'm suppose to be at a mission briefing before I'm shipped back across the border, but I made some time for you, oyster."

"Melissa. I missed you so much, I just, I never thought I'd see you again..." I dissolve into a blubbering mess and I embrace her again, "Don't call me that stupid nickname!"

"You've grown so much! You're so big now," she grabs my cheeks twisting my face this way, before she steps back after her pocket starts vibrating and a muffled ringtone can be heard, "Oh, oyster, I have to leave now." She's got that little pull at the corner of her mouth that used to proceed the tears but I guess she's grown now too.

She doesn't even tear a little as we solemnly wave goodbye.

I turn back to the group and for the next half hour I try to integrate myself slowly back into conversation when the hatch door suddenly opens and a weary faced woman pops through.

"She looks familiar," I murmur unsurely, "I think she's a nurse."

Ellie's brows furrows and she mutters that she'll go ask what's going on. Handing Charles her glass — the blond beginning to clamber to hold all of the glasses at once —, she subconsciously fixes her hair before ducking down. Suddenly, she gasps and stumbles back.

"Pearl," she exclaims, her hand blindly reaching back and gesturing behind herself.

Excusing myself, I mutter that I'll be back in a moment. "So... Charles is it?" I hear Nubia asks as I carefully walk away so my heels won't sink into the ground, "That's a lot of glasses you have there... you know, I used to be an alcoholic and I've been there Charles the first step to fixing the problem is admitting there it on—"

I chuckled, Nubia's words becoming distant as I duck down alongside Ellie. "What's up?" I enquire, touching the wound on my cheek that had been reduced to bandaid worthy, "It's not... infected, is it?"

"It's Holly," Ellie whispers, clutching my arm as my face falls. Kicking away my heels, I hear distant, muffled voices call behind me as I hurriedly descended the metal ladder. I follow behind the nurse, my dress causing me to stumble as we make our way to the hospital wing.

My heart pounded like a drum in my ears and a gut wrenching feeling grew in my stomach as I neared Holly's room. Hurrying towards her familiar room, I peer inside; only to find her body entirely hidden by several uniformed nurses. "Holly?" I call, "It's okay."

"Pearl," she croaked, attempting to push away a nurse. "Please, Pearl. I'm scared."

"I'm here," I promise, "I'll be just outside. You need to listen to the doctors, okay?" Pulled away by a nurse, I willingly collapse into a seat in the hallway and wait — biting the skin on the back of my thumb.

***

Too worried about Holly, and it takes me until two in the morning to fall asleep, but — almost immediately — I'm awoken by a commotion down the hall and an icky feeling of dread settles in the pit of my stomach.

There were at least four men and women in coroners outfits as well as Reagan and Laria standing beside them; a white cloth that was placed over something — presumably a body — and they were walking with stiff faces down the hall. I wondered where they were taking the poor person.

I scrub at my tired eyes to make sure I wasn't seeing things and turn back to the scene in front of me, my eyes wandering over to Laria. She appeared worried, maybe even scared. It dawned on me then.

"No," I mutter, looking at the cloth laid over the small body. At the corner of the blanket was the tiniest bit of red blood. Everyone's blood changed colour when they turned eighteen. Everyone. The chances of an adult with the middle class red blood whilst being here was slim to none in this primarily clear blooded demographic.

"Oh my..." I trail off, covering my mouth with my shaking hand.

She was gone...

Holly was gone...