Evan Farrington's Confession | ✔️

seventeen

Evan pushed the front door open to an empty, dark hall.

"Hello?"

Nobody replied. Hushed voices floated to her from the living room and she could see George working on his jigsaw in the kitchen. Marcus's car hadn't been outside. Evan took off her shoes and dumped them in the hall cupboard.

"Hi, love," George said from the kitchen. If the house hadn't been so eerily quiet, Evan was sure she wouldn't have heard him.

"Hi, Grandad." She pinched her lip, listening to the murmur from the lounge. She couldn't make out any of the individual words but she could tell that the conversation was happening between her parents. She released her bottom lip and wiped her hand on her jeans. When a muffled sob came spilling around the door, Evan scurried upstairs to her bedroom, glad for the way her swishing backpack broke the heavy quiet.

She tucked her bag into the darkest corner of her wardrobe and covered it over with the itchy blanket that she sometimes took out when it got really chilly.

(your first line of defence?)

A blanket was not going stop the police from finding the scissors but it made her feel better not to have the bag out in the open. It was far too easy to forget that she was on the run. A wanted criminal. She opened her laptop and checked the news. Nothing. Scrolling further, further. Still nothing. Evan let out a sigh. The local paper wasn't online but not making national news was a start. There couldn't have been any major developments. Maybe she still had time.

(or maybe they won't find you at all)

Evan slammed her laptop closed and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. The darkness was fuzzy and vaguely sore. Better to expect the worse. Hoping for the best was not going to get her off the hook. Evan took her hands away and gently pinched her lip, pushing her thumb into her chin. It hurt the spot where Marcus had cut her but Evan leaned into the pain, allowing it to sharpen the edges of the world. The window was evenly coated in tiny droplets that gleamed in the moonlight. The sky was clear and starless.

"Eric, please! If you won't talk to him, talk to me!" Suzanne's voice carried up the stairs. Begging. Evan stood and jogged downstairs. She passed through the kitchen and hung onto the doorway. George didn't seem to notice her. He stared fixedly at his jigsaw, hands on his knees. Evan fiddled with her bracelet while Eric slammed the door of the living room in Suzanne's shining face.

"Eric!" Suzanne said from behind the door. She opened it so hard it bounced off the opposite wall. Suzanne ran after him as he marched down the hall towards the front door. "I shouldn't have hired him, it was my mistake. Now will you please, please just come back?"

Eric didn't appear to have heard. He pulled on his trainers and opened the door, his face cold and blank.

"Dad?" Evan said. Her voice wasn't loud enough for Eric to hear but Suzanne turned on Evan, her eyes red and wild.

"Get back upstairs, Evan, this doesn't concern you," she said. Her voice was rough and shrill. Evan did as she was told.

She sat down on her bed, stunned. The sounds of her mother's hysterical sobs seeped around her tightly closed door. The stupid painted door. Evan's stomach growled. The scone had been a long time ago and it was almost half-seven. She could hear clashing cutlery and plates from the kitchen. But no sign of Suzanne coming to usher her downstairs. Marcus wasn't home yet.

"I'm too bloody proud," Evan whispered to herself. She brought her legs up to her chest and rested her cheek on them, closing her eyes. There was probably a packet of Doritos somewhere in her room. But Evan would find them later. She didn't have the energy.

Nero sat down next to her. Evan didn't even blink at the chill. Not right now. Right now there were bigger things, real things to deal with. Stuff that would keep existing once she was safely locked away. Caligula lay down on her bed and Commodus stood. Evan waited for the onslaught of cruelty, the instructions as to what she had to do for them next.

"You want me to kill someone else this time?" she asked. Her voice was so repulsively weak that she almost broke down crying. Almost, almost, almost.

(he choked choked choked and this time it won't be so bad)

"What do you want?" she asked. Her voice had nothing behind it besides her half-closed throat.

(in for a penny...)

But the Emperors remained deathly silent. 

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Love always,

-pinknaails

xx