The Coming | The House of Voices #2

One - Bus

Bus

Parish:

“It’s been two days, Parish. You can’t give me the silent treatment forever.” Parish felt his eyes narrow in October’s direction. He cocked an eyebrow, silently challenging her words, before looking pointedly away. From where she sat cross-legged on the grass in front of him, he heard her sigh heavily. “I said I was sorry.”

The night of their escape had been disastrous in many ways, and Parish almost hadn’t made it out of the Institute safely. In fact, if it hadn’t been for October’s quick thinking, he would have been sitting in his own personal padded cell at St. Elizabeth’s right now instead of watching the sun set over the horizon. But he couldn’t get over how much she’d risked to help him. What would have happened if she’d gotten caught; if Brent had anticipated her attack and grabbed her? She’d have met a fate far worse than the one that had been originally waiting for her.

The voices would have loved that. They wanted nothing more than to see October suffer; and if she’d gotten caught, they would have gotten their wish. That thought alone angered Parish more than anything else. He knew what the voices were capable of; they’d done horrible things to him, too. But he also knew that they saved the worst of their malice for October and he couldn’t even begin to imagine why she’d risk going through all that suffering, just to save him.

He owed her a lot, he knew that. But he couldn’t get over how bad things could have gotten if things hadn’t worked out the way they did. Especially considering the state he’d found October in when he broke her out of Solitary that night. She’d been so completely out of it that, for the first time in his life, Parish had been truly terrified.

He remembered how vacant her eyes had been; how hollow and lifeless her words of protest were. In the short time that he’d known the girl, she’d always had this lively air about her, even when she was screaming in pain or anger – it had always been fueled by some sort of fieriness that only October seemed to possess.

But that night, when he’d broken into solitary to help her escape? She looked like the voices had sucked out every bit of life she’d possessed.

And knowing that she had been willing to risk being put through that kind of torture again? That was what made him so angry. So, after they had put enough distance between themselves and the party of nurses looking for them, he’d yelled at her. For ten minutes straight. It was the kind of chewing out that would have made his father proud; the kind of chewing out that had rendered October wide-eyed and speechless at the end of it.

He hadn’t spoken a single word to her since then.

Exhaling softly, he snuck a glance in October’s direction. She was watching a bird settle back into its nest for the evening and hadn’t noticed him turn to look at her. He didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. He couldn’t keep giving her the silent treatment forever. He’d have to talk to her eventually, and it was probably best if he didn’t wait too long. Frowning, he tore his gaze away from her and turned back to the setting sun.

Three… Two… One

The top of the sun completely disappeared behind the hill in front of it, giving Parish the signal he was waiting for. He stood up in one quick movement and awkwardly cleared his throat to get October’s attention.

“Let’s go.”

She raised an eyebrow at his sudden decision to speak to her, but said nothing. Nodding once, she unfolded herself and stood up straight, arching her back slightly to stretch out her muscles. “Where are we going?” She asked, coming to stand beside him.