Like Real People Do - Jill Roord

We're Going Home

Hunter's POV

I felt like I was stuck in this hole forever, with my eyes hooked on that plain white wall while my fingers fiddled with the drawstring on my shorts which I'd been wearing for days. People moved around me, I knew they were there, but I couldn't ever quite register them; there was a wall separating them and I, and while I couldn't see the barrier, I also knew it was impossible to break through it. I couldn't feel my body, it was as if I'd been cut off from the legs I'd once known to be my own - the legs which had once brought me to greatness- and instead I was stuck in a constant state of nothingness; I was neither here nor there, I wasn't alive yet my heart still beat on. Time didn't exist, my life as I knew it was over and reality was a concept I could never grasp onto again, my hands would slip right through the truth whenever I reached out and made an attempt to even tap into everyone elses' world.
I couldn't have told you what I was thinking about. Each idea passed through my mind like a breeze of wind which came from a completely unknown direction. I'd see her face in my memories every so often, but I'd never let myself linger on those green eyes and that golden smile because that would have been a fate worse than nothingness. 

"Hunter," I heard the softness of my sister's words, I almost felt her hand on my shoulder. I almost knew for certain that she was there, "Hunter I need you to look at me."

Alexia was there. 

I knew that I'd lost everything. My life had fallen apart and I was a corpse left in the rubble of the war which had been entirely my fault.
Nana. The Spanish team. Arsenal. Jill. I was certain none of them were ever coming back. 
But Alexia was still here. My sister still held my hand the entire time. 

I felt my eyes turn glassy. It was the first time that the wall had looked slightly different; the lines now seemed blurred and watered over as I felt the first tear roll down my cheek. 

"Hunts, I really need to know that you're listening," Her voice was soft, Alexia held no anger towards me even when I'd spent months lying to her. Even when I was putting her through this hell all over again. 
I wished she'd have left me to rot, I wished she'd never come to England and I'd been left to drink myself to death; I knew it would have happened some point soon if it wasn't for her sudden arrival. 

But she was here, and I knew I couldn't get Alexia to leave. 

I slowly turned my head towards my sister, my vision blurred from the emotions she'd bestowed upon me and I saw a face I recognized from the recent months, and eyes I knew from years ago; there was this unavoidable fear as she looked at me, she was no longer just looking at me but instead she was searching for answers which I, myself, didn't even know. 

There was just silence. Silence which rang around the house and through my mind. I knew I'd once been able to speak but it felt as if that sense had been stolen from me, like my tongue was trapped in a cage and my throat was full of acid. 
But somehow the words left my mouth, they were dry and quieter than a whisper, but I knew Alexia had heard them. "I'm listening to you."

It was the first time I'd been able to feel my hands and know they were able to touch Alexia's. It was the first time that I'd been able to take a breath and I'd known that the air came from the room around me. It was the first dip I'd taken into the pool of reality. 

Alexia's eyes softened as she took a deep breath, seeming to hold her emotions back, "Mapi is packing your bags. I need you to put some joggers on so we can leave."

I furrowed my eyebrows, my heart began to race which was a shock considering it had felt motionless for the last weeks, "What? Leaving to where?"

Alexia held her breath and laid a hand over my own, "We're going home."

The tears rolled down my face again as my lips quivered as I felt small as a little girl, "I want to go home," I choked the words out.

Alexia seemed relieved, she pulled me into a hug and I already knew we were talking about two vastly different destinations. 
The only place in my head worthy of being called 'home', was with Jill. My Jilly. I knew part of me would always hold on just incase our story hadn't yet finished. Just incase she was still waiting for me, I wouldn't be the first to give up yet I'd never be able to accept that she had. So I think I'd hold onto those green eyes forever, praying that she'd return being consumed with the same hope that I was.
Though I knew that wasn't the case. Jill had said so much to me when she'd tried to bring me back to life. I couldn't remember a word of it though, it was probably because all I could do then was stare at the floor. I remember I woke up that day and pulled on her sweatshirt, she had walked out of my life forever an hour later; since then, I'd always wondered if she knew that jumper was hers. I knew I'd never hear from her friends or family again, I'm sure they would always hate me for what I'd done to her and they'd have every right to.
I hated me for it all as well. I wished to call Jill and say that I was sorry but it's too late, I'd taken things too far and dragged her down with me; I'd never tie that rope and weight to her again.
But it was true. All I wanted to do was to go home. To lay in the arms of the woman I loved, to be in the place where I'd always been safe and protected. I wanted to hear the comfort of her voice and feel her fingers running through my hair. All I wanted was to return home. 

"Our flight to Barcelona is in three hours," Alexia whispered, as she still held me tight. 

And there it was. The conformation I'd never needed but still crushed me. 

I wasn't returning to Jill; I'd probably never see her again. But instead, I was going back to Barcelona, the city which had first taught me fear and the area which had tossed me into this rabbit hole without the slightest apology. 

But I knew there was nothing here for me anymore, or anywhere in fact; it felt like I'd hit a brick wall I could never move past. I sat in a house which wasn't a home, Nana was gone and Jill was never coming back. What would North London be without the love I'd once had? What was left for me here when I'd ruined everything good?
Barcelona wasn't home; it never would be. But neither was London, so what was the difference? I'm sure I could find another white wall to stare at in Spain, I'm sure my sister could find me a seat more comfortable than this.
Life wasn't mine to live anymore, I couldn't argue with Alexia and Mapi's choices anymore than I could change my own; because if I could, I would. I would take it all back and stopped drinking long ago if I knew what beautiful things were on the horizon. Jill was waiting for me just around the corner, but I'd been to blinded by my own past to believe anything genuinely special would ever happen to me and I'd paid the price for that. 

I'd lost everything.