Thirty Three: Alone

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The RV was the same as I remembered it. The siding was melted, torn, and eaten away. The roof was peeling up like it had been subjected to repeated lightning strikes, which it had. Inside, the leaf covered floor was covered with snow. Whatever had the good fortune of being still covered was only damp and frozen solid. 

I wanted to bury myself in the snow. 

My hands were still a raw red, blistering and bleeding on the white snow. The cold wind didn’t bother them. I couldn’t feel much of anything with them since I left Grandma’s. My hair might have been burnt up past my ears. I couldn’t feel it to see the extent of the damage. 

I didn’t know where else to go when the fire burned to embers and the freezing in my chest stopped aching long enough for me to move. As I walked the outskirts of Summersville far from the city streets, the paint forced me to stop every few steps. It shot through me like glass shards. 

The RV was the only place I could trust that I would be alone. 

I should have known better than to trust my instincts. They had been wrong my whole life. 

She showed up when I collapsed on my old bed above the cab of the motorhome. I felt her before I saw her. The static was almost comforting as it filled my mind. 

The thing about Eleanor was that a stranger wouldn’t know she had a Gift if they met her on the street. They might feel a little off, maybe zone out for a second. Chances are they wouldn’t put two and two together. 

But I knew. 

I had spent years with her at the academy. After a while the constant droning of nothing began to feel normal. Then it started giving me headaches. I thought those were normal too. 

They weren’t that bad at first, just made it hard to focus in class. Eleanor would take notes for me when I wasn’t feeling good and she stayed with me in our dorm room when I couldn’t get out of bed. 

I screamed when they told me I should get a new roommate. My Gift Test scores had been dropping since she came to Paramount Lake. They were worried this would happen. But I screamed that she didn’t know she was doing it. It wasn’t her fault. And she was my friend. I had been at the academy for years and I finally had a friend. They couldn’t take that away from me. 

When I felt that same cold static tickling the back of my neck, I let my guard down for a second. It had been years. 

It grew to a crescendo when she came through the half broken doorway. “Are your hands okay?”

Her voice was as small as Elliot’s. How had I not realized they were related sooner? It would have saved me a lot of heartache if I had figured out they were working together earlier. Or if I had known Mona was easier to persuade than I thought. Or if I knew Miguel’s friendship had all been a lie.

That was the thing about Eleanor, she made me spiral. 

“Shut up.”

“That’s no way to talk to an old friend.”

“A friend wouldn’t have left me alone at the academy or tried to light me on fire.”

“I heard about that. And I thought Mona would be a nice friend for you.”

I buried deeper into myself. “Shut up.”

“Is that all you know how to say?” When I didn’t answer, she continued, “I thought you didn’t like to be alone.”

“I would rather be alone than be with people I can’t trust.” The world blurred behind my closed eyes. I tried to squint them shut tighter, but the static intensified. 

“You know you can trust them.” Her words cut through the static. They became sharp and clear while everything else faded to the background. “You’ve been going to school with Julien since we were kids. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. The broken nose was an accident.”

The bones didn’t ache anymore. Maybe it was an accident. 

“Mona was there when no one else was. She didn’t care that you’re damaged goods. She didn’t care that everyone else hated you. She’s just scared, like you were. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

Each of her words sunk me deeper into a calm. With each syllable, the roar of her Gift faded. They were a better comfort than the icy feeling that was creeping through my chest once more. 

Her feet shifted closer in the snow. I knew the interior of the motorhome well enough to pinpoint exactly where she was without looking. She was a step through the door, five feet from my bed. There was the soft sound of her raising a foot to take one step closer. I could imagine the hurt on her face. She hated when she hurt people. She always had. The foot returned to where it had been. “I’m still your friend.”

And she was. Despite what all of the faculty of Paramount Lake said and no matter what I told my peers, she was still my friend. Eleanor had spent years ingratiating herself to me until I couldn’t figure out what was me and what was leftovers from her. 

“Leave me alone.”

I knew she would listen. Not because I had honed my persuasive skills enough to have anyone obey me. She was never one to listen to me because the static didn’t affect her. But she was just as scared of this fragile relationship as I was. 

I made sure the sound of her footsteps trailed out of the RV. They paused at the door, then the noise resumed its pace as she left. I didn’t open my eyes until the tickle of static faded to nothing. I don’t know how long I sat there, curled up, waiting. The feeling lasted longer than her visit. 

When I dared a look the motorhome was empty. It all could have been a dream if not for the indents of her feet left in the snow and the dull blue glow that had worked its way from my chest to my fingertips.  

I curled my fingers into my palm to hide as much of the light as possible. The cold was still there, but I didn’t want to see that it was coming from my Gift. 

I just wanted to be alone. 

Alone with Eleanor’s footprints. 

I thought it was Monday because I didn't have classes yesterday, and it threw my whole week off hence the late chapter.

What do we think about Eleanor? Is she the villain of Paramount Lake that you expected? Or who you pictured Anna's old BFF to be?

m nicole

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