Mania

Chapter 10

After
Claire

     I turn around I'm thankful that it's just Easton.
     Easton.
     Possible Maniac.
     "Were you ever going to tell me that your family works in The Mania?" I ask, my words laced with venom.
     Even though it was dark in the room, I could see his eyes widen. "My parents? Working for The Mania?" He scoffs and my stomach twists in anger as he lies.
     "Don't lie to me, Easton. I'm not stupid." I snap and I cross my arms. My legs are tired and I feel them threatening to buckle underneath me.
     I glare at him and his eyes, normally soft and gentle, harden. "Can we get out of here, at least?"
     I set my feet and we lock eyes. He's actually pretty intimidating; he could be a full foot taller than me and even if I wasn't injured, he could probably outrun me. "I want the truth."
He hesitates. "Yes. My parents are Maniacs."
"And you?"
More hesitation.
"Why would you be a Maniac?" I ask.
"Because of my parents. They've kept me alive, it's the least I can do."
"Why wouldn't you?"
He looks away and his eyes drift to his sister's picture above my head.
"The plague killed my sister." He says quietly and my mouth opens in surprise. "What happened to your family?"
"My older brother went to college, but before he left-" I begin and I stop short. My face falls and my heart starts thundering in my chest.
"Is everything okay, Claire?" He asks, taking a notice to my panic. I shake my head and limp/run past him. This time I guess right and I walk into his room and I start tearing my bag of belongings. "What's wrong?" He asks and kneels down next to me.
"My lighter..." I mumble and I reach the bottom of my bag. "No no no no." I babble furiously and I dump my belongings on the floor.
"Claire," Easton says and tries to grab my attention, but it's a lost cause. In a short amount of time, I start crying as I paw through my trinkets, hoping it would turn up. "Claire!" He repeats and grabs my shoulders. He tears me away from my pile of disaster. I fight back with elbows flying and I possibly pulled a karate move here and there, but he doesn't let go. Defeated and sobbing, I slump against breathing heavily and rambling on about my lighter. "Claire, I have it." He says and it pulls me out of my breakdown.
     He goes over to his closet and opens up a drawer. He fishes out the familiar metal lighter and places it in hands. My shoulders shake and my body shudders as I rub my thumb down the lighter. Feeling the cold metal against my skin takes me back to when I was out in the wilderness. Just myself and my thoughts and everyone knows very well to not be left alone with your thoughts.
     "Let's get you to bed, okay? It seems like you've had a rough day." Easton says softly. I notice that he's turned on the wood stove and I instantly feel tired. I nod weakly and he picks me up carefully with my lighter still clutched in my hand. He sets me down on the bed and cleans my bullet wound. "I'd say it's looking better." He says awkwardly trying to change the subject and trying to ignore the fact that I had a total mental breakdown in his room.
     I'm usually asleep by the time he goes to bed, so I don't know where he sleeps. If he sleeps in his sister's room, then I'm sure I'd die of guilt.
     He sets my lighter on the table next to me and he whispers, "Goodnight, Claire."
     He starts to walk out and I ask, "Do you think your parents heard that?"
     Easton smiles and shakes his head. "They're not here."
     "Right. Probably have some Maniac business." I reply quietly.
     Easton turns around and sits on his bed next me. "What happened to your parents?"
     I'm surprised that he asked that question so suddenly. I'm actually debating whether I should answer or not. After a while, I reply, "My mom caught the Fever and died. My dad was murdered."
     He frowns and his eyes look sympathetic. "You had a younger sister- Rosie, right?"
     I nod. "She was kidnapped." I could've saved her. And I didn't. I hate myself for it.
     "And you had an older brother. Didn't he graduate with Le- my sister?"
     "He went to college in D.C. and I never saw him again."
     He lays down next to me in complete silence. I've gotten used to have quiet things are; I'm sure that if I hear a clock ticking, my ear drums would explode because they wouldn't be used to the noise. "I'm sorry." He says quietly and leaves it at that.

_______________________________________________________Level of mental breakdown: Claire Donavan