Estelle & Salvador

chapter 3

That night, Salvador slept in her room, while Estelle had to sleep with her Aunt. She was angry that she had to give up her room for a stranger boy, the only place where she could feel safe. Where she could feel like no one was going to come in there, and point out something she didn't know, simply because she couldn't remember.

She turned to her side on the bed, curling in on herself. Estelle had a small body, and almost everyone thought she looked younger than she was. The only reason she liked being small was that she could disappear, that she could just curl in and become insignificant.

It was true that she had forgotten her past, every single detail. She had forgotten what she had been like before; if she had been the fun, social type, or just as reserved. If she had a lot of friends, or was she just as detached as now. If she was loved, or not.

But, a part of her wondered; had there been something in her past that she should be glad about having forgotten? A piece which would've given her nothing but misery? If so, how much of her past had miserable? How much hadn't?

She was scared to find out, because maybe the bad was more than the good.

But the one thing that tugged at her, that begged for her to try harder, to dig deeper and know more about her past, was the single thought; what if there had been too much of the good that she was giving up on?

Suddenly, she went still. Aunt Fel always said that her heightened senses were the way of God; that as a replacement, God had gifted her with certain heightened abilities, for the memories which he had taken away.

At the moment, she sensed footsteps. They were heavy and slow, and she knew they could belong to none other but Salvador. She slowly sat up, stepping onto the floor with her bare feet and tip-toeing towards the door of their room.

"What's wrong, Elle?" She heard her Aunt say from behind her, and she breathed out a sigh of relief.

"I heard footsteps outside." Estelle whispered, "I think he's up and wandering around the house."

Her Aunt was up in a second, standing beside her and opening the door slightly, "I'll see what it is he wants. Go back to sleep, don't worry."

Saying that, her Aunt stepped out of the room. Estelle sighed, at last calming down. Talking to him again, standing in front of him, it seemed like the hardest thing to do, since Estelle wasn't used to talk to anyone but her aunt.

However, if she learned one thing from all of this hiding behind a shadow, it was eavesdropping.

She slowly inched the door open, but the lobby outside was so dark that she couldn't see anything. She listened for their voices.

"Aunt Felicity?" His voice came, and she couldn't see where he was in the dark, nor her Aunt, "Is that you?"

"Yes, Salvador. I'm here." She heard her reply.

"I can't see in here, I was trying to find where the lights are."

"There are no lights." She heard her aunt sighing, "There is no electricity in this area."

"Oh." He said, seeming to realise that.

"What are you doing, up so late at night?" Her aunt asked, with just a few drops of suspicion.

"I remembered something," He sighed, "I had a backpack with me, when I came here. I was so tired, I don't remember anything, but I must have dropped it somewhere around the farms. I need to get the bag, I can't afford losing it."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, son." She heard her aunt reply, "What did you have in there?"

"My camera, some clothes, a map, left over food." He seemed to be panicking even more and more after every passing second, "Look, I need to get it back. I need to go back in the farms and look for it. I can't lose it."

"Oh, well let's go then." Her Aunt said, "The farms are right here. We can see if your bag's still there."

"Thank you so much." Salvador sounded relieved, and soon she heard the main door opening and closing, as silence followed.

She quietly went back and lied down on her bed, and she didn't intend to sleep, but she was exhausted and so she slipped off into a sound sleep.

•••

The Sun was almost up by the time Salvador walked back to the house with Aunt Felicity. She had been kind enough to look for the bag with him through the farms, and now that he had it clutched it in his arms tightly, close to his chest, he could finally breathe.

He couldn't believe he had forgotten about it. Forgotten about the one thing that still linked him to her.

He clutched it even tighter, the camera inside it digging into his chest painfully, but he didn't care.

"The bag seems very important to you." Aunt Felicity examined quietly, carefully looking at him as they walked slowly down the path through the thick farms, back to the house.

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head, "It's the only thing that I have left," he admitted out loud, for the first time, "The rest is all lost. Lost forever."

Aunt Felicity's eyes turned concerned all of a sudden, and he looked away.

"You don't seem like you're okay, Salvador." She said, putting a hand on his shoulder. She had to stretch her arm quite a bit; he wasn't exactly on the shorter side. 6'1" suddenly started to feel exceptionally tall amongst the people of Greyton, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He gulped in, ignoring the burning in his eyes. He hadn't had someone ask him that in a long, long while. Maybe, he did. Maybe, letting it out would finally make it real. Maybe, he'd finally be able to let it go.

"Not yet," He said hoarsely, determined not to let the tears fall, "I will talk, just not yet."

"That'll be okay, son." She offered him a warm smile, "Whenever you're comfortable."

He smiled at her, and suddenly, he couldn't help but wonder if he would've even been alive right now if it wouldn't have been for her.

"Thank you, honestly," He whispered, "For everything that you're ready to do for me."

She told him not to mention it, that it was no big deal. However, it was. They didn't exactly have any spare rooms in their house, and judging from everything, the addition of another person to the house caused a lot more inconvenience than she showed.

Then again, the people of Greyton were pretty much the most hospitable people he had come across.

As they reached back home and he walked into the room, putting the bag right beside his pillow, he pulled the camera out and lied down on his back, holding it against his chest. He closed his eyes, and all of a sudden, he was hit by a sudden urge. An urge to go out, to wander. To observe the beautiful scenes, the daily lives of the people here, everything.

It was an urge that had been foreign to him for months now.