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Meet Me After Life

Page 111

by Anneka-Rose Burrell

And then again at twelve. I’d become more adept, more creative with my subterfuge. I distorted her photos and altered her bio to have an unnatural obsession with animals that always ended up disappearing.

And on and on it went… Years of abject treachery. All to keep her by my side. Tilly was beautiful and sweet. She was kind and naïve, endearing. And she was immortal. Who wouldn’t want her? I lost count of how many times I ruined her potential adoptions.

Until seventeen, when finally I was caught red-handed, taking her profile down from the orphanage website.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m—’

Tilly’s in the doorway. There’s a stack of books on the floor from where she’s dropped them. Her wide eyes stare at the computer screen in disbelief.

‘I was fixing⁠—’

‘No. I updated my profile myself yesterday, Miller. Why is it open now, and why does it say I have…’ She reads the line under listed illnesses. ‘Cat aids?’

Tilly’s watery eyes swim before me.

‘How could you? How could you, Miller? You know how bad I wanted a family! You were my friend, how could you do this to me?’

‘I just didn’t want you to leave me! You’re all I had, I just wanted us to stay together!’

Tilly looks at me horrified. She shakes her head and runs from the room. I go to follow but it’s too late. The damage is done. The only person that ever loved and accepted me is gone. She isn’t coming back. And it’s all my fault.

‘Now he know’th your thecret thame.’ Paul’s lisp tickles my ear as he stands behind me. I shrink away from him and try to see Walker’s reaction. But he looks oddly detached – like he couldn’t care one way or another.

‘What do you think of her now, Roman? Not tho thweet and innothent after all.’ Walker begins to look at me differently, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to see me in a different light until Paul mentioned it.

‘I could help you. I could change how he lookth at you. I can fix thith. Roman could be yourth. Forever and ever. You’d finally have thomeone who loveth you. We can pretend it never happened.’ Paul strokes the back of my seat. ‘All you have to do in return, ith agree to thtay and pledge allegianthe to the Black Thtar.’

Paul comes to stand behind me and holds my shoulders as he fans a hand in front of us both. ‘Imagine it – two of the motht powerful beingth in thith galaxthy come together, to change the order of thingth for the better. No more North Thtar calling the thotth. Finally, dawn would break with a new era for the Black Thtar.’ I see the vision in his beady little eyes. ‘It wathn’t your fault, Miller. You were young, you didn’t know any better,’ he soothes. ‘We’re not too different, you and me. We jutht thow people what they want to thee. And in return we got what we need. There’th nothing wrong with that. Ith there?’

I wish I was a better person; I’d like to be. But maybe he’s right. Maybe I do belong here. Because the more I think about it, the more I agree.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Breakdown

‘That’th it. Come to papa.’

I take a step forward. And another. But there’s still something.

I look at Walker. I know he’s almost completely under Paul’s enthral, but when he meets my eyes, it’s as though his eyes clear for a split second. That brilliant green I’ve studied for the past month shines through, and for a single moment he’s himself. He’s himself, he knows me, all of me. I just know. I know the same way you know a good line from trash. Mine, he called me.

‘Still mine,’ I hear him cut through the discord.

And he’ll take it all – the good, the bad, the embarrassing. He nods once.

It’s all I need.

I think of every rotten thing. Every good and terrible instance that’s ever made me want to weep, but I’ve suffered it all in the deep dark quiet and covered it in flowers. I feel it all. Let it all wash over me. I take responsibility, but also let go. I forgive myself. And I acknowledge that I’m not perfect. Not every part of me is loveable, but there’s a lot of parts that are. Not every person will want me. But there’s at least one that does. And even if he didn’t. I’m enough for myself. And that’s alright with me.

I lost out in life. I wasted it. I was too busy running from a fear that lived inside me. What I find most upsetting about dying, is that its transition wasn’t marked by my actual death. I’ve been living like a ghost since I was sixteen. Part of that was a predicament, but I bore responsibility too. I could have loved myself. I could have learned. I just never thought I was worth trying for. Now I know I am and it’s too late. I let go too late. I’m dead. I wasted all my time being scared and there’s no time left to be brave.

Except there is. Because now I have one last chance. I can do this one last thing. Something good. No one will know, but I will. For once, I can be brave.

‘No. I’m sorry, Paul. But no.’ I shake my head. ‘You’re wrong. We’re not the same. What I did wasn’t right. It was selfish. And it was mean. And I’ve spent most of my life atoning because I knew that. I don’t think I deserve to go to the North Star. But even if the only choices I had were to help you or to fade into oblivion, I’d take the latter.’

‘Manipulating someone into loving you doesn’t mean they love you. It means they love the lie. And I want something real. I deserve something real.’