One Drop

Chapter Five: Emily

I walk home in a shocked fuzz. Will told me to leave. What did this mean? I hardly even noticed where I was going until I felt the sand between my toes and the rushing of the sea. I am at our place, where we shared our first kiss. I sit on the cliff edge, and start to cry. Did this mean we were breaking up, that I would never again kiss him, that I would never again be held in his arms and know I was safe? I cried there on the cliffs for two hours, hugging my mid-section as if holding in everything, holding myself together, knowing that eventually I would have to let go, and then I would fall apart.

By the time it reached midday, I had cried myself out, and I trudged home, my face red and puffy, my eyes still swimming with tears, my arms still clutching my middle like it's the only thing left for me now. My mother screams when she sees me walking slowly and dejectedly up the driveway, and all I see is her running towards me before I am enveloped in her sweet smelling hug. She half carries, half drags me inside and plops me down in bed, pulling the covers up to my chin like I am a child again. "Sweetie, you should get some sleep, it must have been a long night. I'll wake you at dinner," whispers my mother, but I don't say anything back, just roll over and close my eyes, wanting to block out everything, all the pain, all the loss. Soon I am asleep, curled under the blankets as if hiding from the world, and the truth.

Carol

It was a few hours after Emily came home when the phone rang. I rushed to it quickly, and thank god it didn't wake her up. "Hello?" I whispered into the receiver, and nearly dropped it in shock as a voice shrieked into my ear, "Have you seen him? PLEASE! You must help me, do you know where he is?" "Molly, is that you?" I asked, recognising Molly Marksbury's voice, even though it was hysterical. "What is it, what's wrong?" I asked, speaking loudly over her wracking sobs. She only had to whisper one word for me to know what had happened. "Will," she screamed, and then her voice subsided into sobs once again, and she clicked off the line, leaving me listening to the dial tone, my heart heavy with dread.

I sat watching Emily sleep, her face marred with grief even in sleep. She was clutching her favourite childhood toy, an old raggedy pink teddy bear, who had survived with her since birth, travelling from England and all over Australia to here now. Emily had stopped sleeping with it when she was ten, resolutely stashing it in a cupboard, proclaiming herself 'too old to sleep with a kid's toy.' She hadn't taken it out in years, and now it broke my heart to see her looking so young, and me knowing I was the deliverer of more terrible news. It broke my heart to see her, looking so young and vulnerable. 

I wake up to find my mother sitting watching me, her face glistening with tears. "Hi Mum. Are you okay?" I ask, but dread fills my body as she continues to sit there, like a puppet with its strings cut. "It's...... it's about Will sweetie." Mum says, trying to sound brave. "What do you mean? Is he hurt, what's wrong? I've got to go over there, stop him from doing something stupid"!" I exclaim, and I jump up out of bed, sweeping around the room gathering together an outfit, whirling around like a tornado until Mum grabs my wrist and pulls me to a stop. "Mum, what are you doing? Let go of me, I have to get over there and get to Will. Stop it! LET GO! I need to be there, I need to be there with Will!" I say, trying to wrench my arm from her grip, but she holds on relentlessly. "Honey, I think you should sit down for this. It might come as a shock." whispers Mum, but I wasn't having it. "No, I think I'll stand thanks. Just tell me so I can go." I say defiantly and I fixed Mum with a beady stare. "Alright, I warned you. It's Will. He's...... he's gone.......missing." Mum says, and as she utters the last word I collapse, and the last thing I remember is her rushing to catch me.

I wake up later and I wonder why I'm lying in bed. I look at the clock and realise it's four in the afternoon. I wonder why I'm in bed so late, and it's then that's when I remember what happened, and I let out a scream, a scream that is filled with horror and sadness, grief and loss. My mother rushes over, but I've already pushed my chest of drawers in front of the door, so all she can do is rattle the doorknob and shout, "Emily, let me in!" But I'm not listening. I curl up in a ball against the chest of drawers and I cry, and scream. All is lost, Will is gone. And the worst part is, not that I might never see him again, that I will never kiss him again. No, the worst part, is that he didn't even say goodbye.