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"This could be the end of everything, so why don't we go, somewhere only we know."
J u p i t e r
We didn't speak a word of what happened that night— Ellie and I. It was the silence that was deafening. We washed our skin free of any remnants that were left of what we had done. The more I scrubbed the more I burned, and by the time I stepped out of our shared bathroom my skin had felt alight. It could've been with anger, or confusion or the worst of all; guilt. Guilt for not asking more, for not stopping Ellie's knife as it wedged itself in the man's neck over and over and over. It was too late.
I was unsure if it really was guilt I was feeling, because I didn't care that he was in fact, dead. The only thing I seemed to care about were the words I'd never get to hear, the questions I'll never get to ask. Though, if he was right and my mother was alive, I'm sure the questions would be answered real soon. I winced at the shiver that ran through my body at the thought of her stepping foot into this town. My mother was a stranger now, at most. The day she left me to die she became a stranger, but I knew deep down that she'd paint this town red just for fun.
Ellie's leg had somewhat healed nicely within a few weeks, save for the limp she seemed to struggle with. Thankfully, the bone hadn't been damaged enough for surgery, though Ellie fought her way out of that with some fuck off's and I'll be fine's anyway. I could see that the aftermath of what that night did to her leg annoyed her to no end, but she never said anything about it. I knew, though. It was in the way she'd swear softly to herself when walking, or the way she'd tug on her bottom lip in defiance when someone offered to help her up. Or right now, as her brows furrowed deeply in angst as Joel spoke to her. I watched as she tried to leap up from the picnic table her and Richard— one of Joel's closest friends— were sat at for dinner, watched as her nails dug craters in the palms of her hands when she was too late at doing so, and Joel had already made himself comfortable right next to Ellie on the bench.
I was sat at my own table, a book Dina had leant me displayed out in front of my eyes. Not that I ever read it, no, but it was a great way to avoid unwanted conversation with just about anyone and everyone in this town. It was my new normal, ever since that night. If I had a book in front of me, no one dared to interrupt, and if they did I'd even go as far as ignoring them, pretending I was too engrossed in the words. Little did they know I had been on chapter 1, page 1 for three whole days now. Dina was oblivious to why I was asking to read all of her books, but she gave them up willingly with a smile across her face. The first time I asked, she just about ran down her hallway, returning with five, six-hundred page books in her arms.
"Thought I'd start you off light." She had said. I hadn't read any of them, In fact, I only let my eyes skim briefly along the pages just so when she'd ask if I liked them, I could lie peacefully to her pretty face. Most of the time my answer was a shrug and a,"yeah, it wasn't too bad."
