Anna

42 - Aftermath

Ellie knew her past would catch up to her eventually; she just wished she could have delayed it for a little while longer.

The world moved around her in a hazy blur. She was not sure exactly how she ended up back on the apartment building's front lawn, but when she finally came to her senses, she found herself standing in the same spot where her pink bike lay abandoned seven years ago.

Every breath that passed through her lungs reminded her that Anna—whoever she was—no longer had the same burden of living. Maybe it was better that way. She knew from experience that He made life not worth living. Whatever torture he put Anna through probably made death a welcome reprieve.

She was just a kid.

A car passed on the road inches away. Ellie's first instinct was that it was a van, and her stomach lurched. Without time to run for cover in a bush, she dropped to her knees and emptied her stomach on the ground beneath her.

With one palm planted against the earth and the other clutching her stomach, her mind reeled while her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. Squeaky wagon wheels approached from across the uneven lawn, and a comforting presence knelt beside her.

She wanted to let her tired body slump into Freya's and let her friend support her, but she held herself still. She'd put Freya through enough for the day; she didn't need to turn her into a crutch, too. Instead, she held herself up, her face still hovering above the patchy grass as she panted to fill her lungs.

"Ellie, we need to go."

Ellie opened her mouth to respond, just to be met with another wave of nausea.

As she bent over, Freya gathered Ellie's hair and held it at the back of her neck. The combination of overworked stomach muscles, a burning throat, and disgusting noises she had no control over brought more tears to her eyes. When she was finally finished, every last ounce of energy left her body, and she was left a shaking, blubbering mess.

"I'm sorry," Ellie managed through sobs that sounded more like grunts.

"Shut up," Freya said, though it sounded like it came out more forcefully than intended, so she doubled back on her words and softened her voice. "It's almost dark. I'll take you home."

Freya offered a hand to help, but Ellie ignored it, not wanting to look weaker than she already did. So Ellie struggled to her feet and dragged herself forward, though it took everything in her to keep from falling over from exhaustion.

On the trek back to the car, Freya filled the silence with an endless stream of updates on how much farther they had left. It wasn't a helpful method, but the constant communication at least told her that Freya didn't think of her as a complete freak.

Ellie's aching body and sore limbs were the only things that distracted her from the thought of Anna... the real Anna. The Anna she wished she didn't know existed.

Instead, she focused on how her legs shook with every step and that her mouth tasted utterly vile. It felt torturous, but it was better than the alternative. When Ellie finally sat in the front passenger seat, she no longer had the welcome distractions of physical pain and discomfort. She resorted to digging her nails into her skin, which at least took some of the edge off.

Something crinkly nudged at Ellie's arm, pulling her out of her thoughts. Her eyes returned to the road in front of her, then to the wrinkled fast food takeout bag that Freya held out.

"If you're gonna throw up again, at least try to aim." Freya shook the bag for Ellie to take. She bit her bottom lip to hold back what threatened to come up and crumpled the bag in her lap.