“What happened Emily?” I whisper against the bars of her cage, her body curled tightly into a ball in the corner. “Talk to me.”
Soft sobs shake her shoulders before she tips her head to face me. Gone are her chocolate brown eyes, now all that’s left behind are hollow windows, void of everything.
“They.. they made me do things. Things I’ve never done.” She whimpers and my teeth grind together in blinding anger. Her empty eyes brim with heavy tears before they fall down her face again, creating streaks through the dirt that’s caked onto her round face. “A guard used.. his baton to assault me.”
My eyes flick down to where her legs are pulled tightly into her chest, streaks of smeared blood cover the inside of her bare thighs and robe. Immediately bile rises in my throat and I have to give myself a minute to send it away. I can feel the tears threatening to burst free, to break the dam that I’m struggling to keep a hold of but I refuse to break in front of Emily. She needs me to be the stronger one for both of us right now.
I slip my uninjured hand through the bars to touch her shoulder. She jumps slightly at the contact before placing her hand over mine in a comforting touch.
“Thank you, Ana. For always sticking by me.”
“Don’t thank me. I couldn’t stop that guard from taking you.” I say as guilt sits heavily in my stomach like a brick.
“No. But you tried, and that’s more than I could ask for. I’m just tired, you know?” She says softly and I catch a wash of defeat that passes over her face.
“I know. Just.. just hold on alright.”
“I’m not sure how long I can hold on for.”
Her words stab through my chest like a hot poker and I have to bite down on the flesh inside my mouth to stop myself from crying. Emily has been the most constant thing here, a friend I’d never expect to make in a place like this. I can’t lose her, I refuse.
“Just promise me that you’ll hold on.Please.” I plead, and she simply nods her head, a small smile tipping up her blistered lips.
“I promise.”
I know her promise is empty but I hold onto it anyway, keeping it safe. Her grip loosens on mine as she falls asleep against the bars, her breath slipping freely between her lips. Keeping my eyes on her for a moment, I watch over her like a protector, my gaze trained on her chest as it rises and falls in an even rhythm.
After a moment my eyes begin to feel heavy and my body grows weary and tired from watching Emily sleep. I slump my shoulder against the bars and close my eyes, just for a second. I just need a minute, that’s all.
“Wake up pretty girl.”
“Dean? Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me baby. I’m here.”
Tears rain down my face at the sound of Dean’s voice and I slip my hand across the crisp white bed sheet, feeling its softness beneath my fingertips. My hands reach for him but not quite touching, just an inch out of grasp.
“Where are you?” I whisper.
“I’m here baby.” He murmurs. “Where I’ve always been, waiting for you.”
I roll over in the plush bed to sit up, my bare feet grazing the soft carpet as I come to stand, my knees buckling. Looking around, my eyes scour the bedroom we share together, desperate to find Dean. Instead, the room is empty, just the smell of him left behind.
I heard his voice. I know I did. I.. I’m not crazy.
Turning on my heel, I leave the bedroom and head through the hallway that leads into the kitchen. The whole house is bare, nota single item of furniture fills the open space.
Where is everything? Where’s Dean, or Lyla?
“Dean? Lyla?” I ask in confusion, my head spinning in violent waves.
Immediately the front door swings open, sending a gush of wind through the house and over my bare arms. My skin tingles to life and the urge to step outside is strong, almost like hidden hands are pulling me through the house. An invisible rope dragging me towards Dean. I follow the urge and step through the front door and out onto the wooden porch.
The sky is cloudy and gray with a wash of clouds spreading across the wide space, heavy with rain. It hardly ever rains in Rockford.
Shaking my head, I make my way down the steps and onto the grass, following the pull around the house and across the garden towards the slow flowing lake that sits at the edge. The water is murky and gray like someone has spilled black paint into it.
Anxiety coils like a snake in my stomach and I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right. This place feels different, and it’s not the home I recognise.
