|Nine| Until then I’ll hide in my bedroom…Staying up all night just to write…

Emma had covered the ground from her own room to Lily’s in just two minutes. Lily’s door was closed, but Emma had been expecting that. She pushed it slightly and was satisfied when she heard the click of the door moving forward. The door swung open very slowly with the un-rushed speed of a turtle in a race against a hare. Emma tip-toed inside and shut the door behind her.

The room was dark except for a beam of moonlight escaping through the window shade which was tattered and worn on the sides. The ray of light spread itself across the floor and ended at the tips of Lily’s toes. If Emma hadn’t been so nervous about this visit, she would have described this scene as moonlight tickling Lily’s uncovered feet.

The beep of the heart monitor was the only sound, but was not the only machine; equipment of all kinds littered Lily’s once machinery vacant room. A huge IV apparatus was the largest and most looming, it held (as far as Emma could count) at least five separate IV’s; it looked so much like a tree that Emma found her lips curving into a smile despite the fact that she knew what the IV’s were for…more or less.

Emma tore her eyes from the wonderful display of technology and let them fall on the feeble girl who was asleep on the bed. The sight before her caused Emma to sink into the plastic chair by the window. This was Emma’s least favorite chair, but was the one positioned furthest from the bed and all the contraptions surrounding her friend. As Emma’s bottom lowered unsteadily into the sharp plastic, she was surprised to feel a padded seat had been placed there. Emma was delighted by this because she could be comfortable in more ways than one now.

Lily’s eyes were closed, being that she was asleep, her mouth was twisted into a frown that showcased how dry and chapped her pale lips were; her fingers were bony and her arms, which had once been muscular, were taking on the appearance of sticks. The pallor of her friend nearly brought Emma to tears.

“It’s bad, isn’t it,” stated a voice beneath Emma. She jumped up, squealing a little with her hand over her mouth. She’d been sitting on Elijah and he was grinning at her; a wane grin but a grin nonetheless. “How are you?”

Emma leaned against the bed frame, trying to slow her heart beat. When she spoke, her voice held a cutting edge that was not normally there, “How is SHE?”

Elijah shrugged and unfolded himself from the chair leisurely. As he stretched and yawned, Emma noticed that he looked much like a graceful cat…or a bear coming out of hibernation; either way. “The same, I guess,” he was holding back a yawn, judging by the fact that his face was contorted and his eyes were watery.

Emma nodded, letting her tired body lower itself on the side of Lily’s bed. She was careful to avoid all machinery and limbs as she did this. Emma shook her head, her eyes blinking back the threatening salty wetness. She looked up at him, “How long have you been here?”

Elijah looked at his watch, “About…two days.”

The severity of the situation did not allow Emma to laugh at his try at a joke. She let her eyes skirt away from the body on the bed; then she felt herself looking at the drawn window shade instead, studying all it’s tears and color faded spots. Elijah’s voice, when he spoke next, sounded haggard.

“How are you?” She noticed, by the corner of her eye, that he was moving to stand in front of her. When he was in position, she let her eyes drop from the window, where they fell on his loose-fitting faded jeans.

To the hole on his left knee, she replied, “I’m fine.”

“Hmmmm,” he retorted, sounding unconvinced. “So that’s why you won’t leave your room?”

Emma stood up in front of him, their noses nearly touching because they were so close together. Her voice, though she wanted it to sound strong and intimidating, came out meek and gaunt, “No.” She cleared her throat in an attempt to sway his attention.

It didn’t work, “Then why?” His voice wasn’t forceful; he just sounded curious and troubled all at once.

Although Emma wanted desperately to tear her eyes from his never-ending sea of blue, she couldn’t. It was as if he’d glued her eyes on his; she was stuck. “Because I’m scared, Elijah. Is that what you want to hear?”

His eyes glimmered with hurt mixed with anxiety, “No. I want the truth.”

“Okay,” she replied, sounding as if she was throwing up the white flag of defeat, “You want the truth. You’ve got it…I just hope you can handle it.”

The corner of Elijah’s lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile, “I can handle the truth.”

“Not according to Jack Nicolson,” stated Emma airily, stepping around him to go and plant herself in the uncomfortable chair.

It was at this point in time that Elijah wondered if his sister was truly still asleep; he knew she was greatly fatigued, but would she sleep through a tiny battle going on in her room? He thought not, which is why he was careful of what he said as he brought the larger of the chairs and placed it directly in front of Emma. “I don’t really care what Jack Nicolson thinks about my truth-taking abilities.”

Emma shrugged, “Have it your way, then.”

This time Elijah let his lips curve into a tiny smile, “Alright. Shoot.”

She took a deep breath and gradually let it out before she answered his request, “I am fucking scared out of my mind. THAT is the truth.” She leaned back in her seat, letting this sink in, “Let’s see…yes. I have killed my mother,” she held up a hand so he wouldn’t interrupt, he relaxed in his seat, “…My best friend in the world is dying, I am doubting myself in and out because of these feelings I have for someone I shouldn’t be having feelings for…” She sighed, “I have tried to kill myself, my old friends are scared of me, I am considered a murderer in my hometown, my aunt and uncle don’t want me living with them because I’m emotionally unstable…and last but not least, I am emotionally unstable.” She shrugged, crossing her legs and staring at the pattern of the tiled floor. Two blacks, a white, another black, two whites, a beige; it was hideous.

Elijah got onto the floor; he kneeled in front of her, his hands grasping either side of the chair’s arms. He peered up at her, his eyes showing more sincerity than she’d seen in her entire life. “Can I comment now?”

Emma took a deep breath and nodded in response, waiting for the blow to hit.

“You’re scared…THAT is normal. You did not kill your mother, I don’t care what the fuck you say…you didn’t. You need to realize that. Next, your best friend dying is not your fault. It is hard to deal with, I know, but you need to deal with it. The feelings you shouldn’t be having? Yeah, also normal. It’s normal to have feelings like that and then doubt yourself. So just chalk that one up to normalcy. Your old friends aren’t scared of YOU they are scared of what happened to you and they don’t know how to deal with you…they don’t know how to treat you.” He raised an eyebrow at her, knowing he was correct. She nodded, allowing him to continue, “Your aunt and uncle are scared FOR you, they’re worried about you and they don’t want to be responsible of your mental stability. Lastly, you are emotionally unstable but you’re working on it.” He took a deep breath, “Is that it?”

Emma, looking at him in awe, nodded, “I think so. Yes.” Perhaps there was more to this actor than meets the eye; perhaps Dr. Johansen had been right about him.

Elijah leaned back, letting his feet slide forward so he could sit on the cold floor in front of her. “So basically,” he took on the position of how a therapist might look in this situation. “You’re scared shitless,” his lips curved into a dazzling, teeth-showing smile.

Emma felt herself smile back at him even though she fought her body tooth and nail. After a second, she composed her emotions and straightened her face, “Elijah, this doesn’t change anything, it doesn’t help.”

Elijah raised an accusing eyebrow, “Doesn’t it?”

She sighed, her shoulders sagging, “No.”

Shaking her head, Emma stood up and walked around his stretched out body. She glanced at Lily as she walked past the bed; Emma’s eyes taking in every inch, because she knew deep down inside, that this was the last time she’d see her.

Emma tore her gaze from her dozing friend and locked her eyes on Elijah’s crystal blues, “I’ll see you later.” She nodded in finality and took her leave.