|Eight| I’ll know it…When I see you…

It was decided between Dr. Johansen and Elijah that he should try to get through to Emma. None of this waiting to be inviting into the dragon’s lair. He was going to dawn the shining armor, take up his sword and march right in. If he got burned, so be it. There were greater risks in life. Like the risk of loosing her.

Lily’s life was deteriorating at an alarming rate. She requested to see Emma every chance she got, but someone (usually Elijah) had to tell her that Emma wasn’t feeling well. Lily knew what was wrong; after all she wasn’t a stupid girl by any means.

If Lily hadn’t been so sick, she would have marched herself down to Emma’s room and demanded she snap out of it. Lily was weak now, too, but was far worse off than Emma was; Lily was bedridden and frail.

On the third day of Emma not leaving her room, Elijah knocked, announced himself and pushed through the door.

Emma was a crumpled heap amongst her blankets. She wore extremely baggy sweat pants and a white cotton tank top. Her hair was greasy and in a high pony tail, secured with a poufy pink scrunchie; which really was the only feminine thing she was wearing…if you could even count that.

Elijah’s stern disposition surrendered as he took in every inch of her. Her eyes were watery and red from crying; the bags under her eyes were the size of a small European country. Her full lips were permanently pouted, dry and cracked. Emma was in desperate need of some chapstick which Elijah could see was on her desk in the corner; he didn’t make a move to get it though.

Emma looked thinner than ever; bordering on anorexic. Sallow skin, sunken-in eyes, skin hanging off bones. How could she go from being so vivacious and alive to this in only three days?

Elijah took a step further into the room; he was being as cautious as possible. It was like he was hunting rabbit and that if he got too close too quickly, his prey would scamper off into the woods and disappear. Her eyes were closed now, but he knew she wasn’t asleep.

“Emma,” he said, his voice low and wavering.

Slowly, her eyes opened and a tear trickled down her cheek. She looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. Elijah took an abrupt step back but then immediately took two more steps towards the bed. This was not a time to fall to pieces.

She gracefully stretched like a cat after a long nap and drew the covers over her body, covering herself from view; her head was still exposed, but she closed her eyes again. Elijah took another tentative step. He wanted to envelope her in a hug and then shake some sense into her, but neither would do any good at the moment.

Elijah stepped forward once more; he was so close to the bed that his knees were up against the metal frame. It hurt like hell, metal cutting into skin, but he didn’t move; didn’t retreat. “Emma,” this time his voice was pleading, hovering on extremity. “We need to talk.”

Emma opened her eyes once more and looked at him. There was a glint in her eyes that he’d never seen before. She almost looked…possessed, but that couldn’t be it. In any case, she didn’t look like herself. Her eyes took in his body; a fleeting look of hunger flew by before it was replaced with child-like innocence. She inclined her head slightly in what could not be anything else but curiosity.

He sat on the bed with such ease that it was like he was still hovering an inch from the mattress. His hands fell in his lap, but they didn’t stay there. One went to his mouth, where he began furiously biting his nails; the other went through his hair. She slowly sat up, not taking her eyes off him. He was looking at the opposite wall, gathering his next few words. Leaning against the wall, Emma brought her knees to her chest where she sat poised, waiting for the argument.

Elijah turned to her reluctantly, “What’s going on?” His voice still held that pleading tone.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her voice croaked from not having used it much in days.

“Emma, don’t play dumb---”

“I’m not,” she retorted angrily. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’ve been in bed for three days straight. You haven’t eaten…showered…anything. You look like shit.”

Emma laughed a very evil sounding laugh which also held a raspy tone to it. “Thanks, Elijah. Very lovely compliment. It’s no wonder you get any girl you want” She sounded cynical and very beyond pissed off.

“What?” Elijah asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

Emma shrugged her shoulders slowly. “What is it that you want? You’ve interrupted my sleeping.” She feigned a yawn. “I’m awfully tired.”

“What has gotten into you, Emma? You’re acting really odd.”

She watched him impassively without uttering another word.

Elijah took a very deep breath and then let it out unhurriedly. “I’m worried about you. So is everyone else. Especially Lily. She wants to see you, Emma…she doesn’t have…much time left.”

Emma sat up very suddenly. “She doesn’t?”

Elijah peered at her, wondering what it is that snapped her out of her trance. The mention of his sister, of course. “The doctors say days. Maybe hours.”

Emma’s shaking hand went to her mouth. Her voice lost its cynical tone, “Oh, my God. Elijah…I…”

He looked at her, his eyes glassy. “It’s alright. I know.”

She shook her head, “No. No, you don’t. You couldn’t possibly know what I’m going through right now.”

Elijah didn’t reply, because he knew she was right. No matter how good he was at acting, there wasn’t a line in his memory that could have helped in this situation; because he’d never been in this situation before. “Emma---”

She cut him off, sitting up on her knees to be eye level with him. “Have you ever killed your mother, Elijah? Huh?”

Elijah very nearly rolled his eyes, but thankfully caught himself in time. His voice became quiet, “No.”

“That’s what I thought. So, until you have don’t even bother talking to me.” She crossed her arms across her chest and let out a huffy breath.

Elijah looked at her, his eyes searching hers for any emotion other than animosity. “Emma, you can’t shut the world out. You can’t get through this on your own…you need help…and you have to let us help you.” He shrugged helplessly. “That’s all I want. I want you to give me a chance. You confided in me and then you turned you back. That is not what friends do, Emma…and I thought we were friends.” He pushed himself off the bed angrily, the bedsprings squeaked as he did so. He turned away from her, “I guess I was wrong.”

Emma opened her mouth to reply, but he was already gone. She lay back on her bed again and let the pestering tears fall from her eyes as freely as they wanted to. There was no reason to hold them back any longer.

*

When Emma’s eyes fluttered open, the moonlight was falling across her face. Outside, the black sky twinkled invitingly with its little balls of gas strewn across the horizon. Emma scowled at nature in general and climbed out of bed. Her feet hit the floor and she immediately pulled them back up. The floor was horrendously cold and her feet were no match for it. Falling back onto her bed, she reached to her bedside table where her slippers lie; she grasped them in her fingertips and then shoved her feet into them. Like dipping a toe into frigid water, she stepped onto the floor and was delighted to find that her slippers protected her delicate feet.

The door to her room was closed, but she could see a little glimmer of light shinning through the cracks. The lights in the hallway were always on at night; just dimmed a little for late-night prowlers or people who wanted a midnight snack. Emma was not normally one to venture from the safety of her room at night, for she heard the screams of nightmares through the hallways. They were so loud and so piercing that you would have had to have been deaf not to. Another thing Emma didn’t do often was speak to any of the other patients besides Lily. She stayed at a safe distance, dubbing them too crazy even for herself. When, in reality, they were all created equal in their insanity. They all had a past, a story; a story that was probably long and uninteresting to all but those who lived it; a story that caused their brains to stop functioning normally.

Except Lily; Lily was not insane…she was just having a hard time adjusting to pre-mature death.

That was the only reason Emma was setting out into the black hole that was the mental ward at night: for Lily.

Emma pushed her door open slightly, making sure the night nurse wasn’t at the nurse’s station which was positioned directly across the hall from Emma’s room. There was no one there; the nurse would be making her rounds, which meant it was midnight on the dot. Perfect, thought Emma, this will work out well. I won’t get caught and I’ll still get to see Lily.

The corridor was so silent that each padded footstep reverberated, causing quite a racket. Emma stood on the tips of her toes, and with the gracefulness of someone who’d taken ballet for three years, crept down the noiseless hall.