November

chapter 3

Judging by the lack of light it was late evening when November woke up again. She had slept a good eight hours, something she couldn't remember when it was the last time she had the luxury to do. Her limbs felt weak and wobbly when she made her way downstairs after paying a visit to the bathroom and greedily gulping down a few handfuls of water first- she remembered how dehydration felt like from the last time she had been sick, and it was not a nice feeling.

She cringed when she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was exceptionally pale and adorned by a big purplish bruise under her right eye. Her hair looked homely, hanging limp over both of her shoulders, full of knots and having its usual chestnut colour seem dull. Only after a few minutes of combing her hands through it- and ending up ripping out the most stubborn knots among with little tuffs of hair- did it looked at least somewhat presentable.

The same couldn't be said for her attire. She was still in her underwear, which offered a full view to her body while Ethan's coat still draped over her shoulders. She had decided that she liked it and the faster Ethan accepted the fact that he was not getting it back, the better. However, it still left her body exposed. Casting her eyes down, November winced when she noticed the bruises there as well, especially the big one on her left hip. It had bloomed overnight like a peculiar purple flower with yellowish petals, and she held back a small yelp of pain when her fingers tentatively touched it.

She wasn't feeling comfortable enough to use the bathtub, self-preservation stronger than the need to rinse the dirt off of her and have the hot water relax her taut muscles, but when she sent a longing glance towards it, November noticed a pair of plaid male pajama bottoms and a plain white T-shirt. Figuring they were left there for her, she quickly changed into the borrowed clothes. She had to roll the slightly frayed from use cuffs of the pants several times so that she wouldn't trip, and she was practically swimming into the shirt, but she wasn't about to start complaining, plainly grateful that she wouldn't have to walk around the house in just her underwear.

As that thought formed in her mind, November felt like kicking some sense into herself. She wasn't going to be walking around the house- not in her underwear, not in Ethan's oversized clothes. She had to get out of there and soon!

November gripped the sink tightly as she tried to imagine what would be happening back home. It was Sunday evening. That was the time when usually her mother either left and didn't come back until the next day, if of course she felt like it, or came back home from a night spent doing who knows what. November wished for the latter. But even if her mother was home, it wouldn't make any difference.

The children would probably still be hungry and cold, little Nadia would still cry herself to sleep until November went back home to read her her favourite book and tuck her into bed, and eight-year-old Jeremy and Elena would be waiting  by the window of their house for her to come back.

November counted the time in her head. It had almost been 24 hours since she was last home, and they would be worrying sick; her siblings always did every time she was late. They might not know what she did outside at nights, but they sensed enough to be able to tell that they should be worrying about her.

"Keep your shit together, November", she told to the girl in the mirror, carefully arranging her expression back to apathy. It was something she had come to be good at. Hide your feelings. Keep the turmoil down and controlled. Put on your mask and fake it.

She picked Ethan's coat from the floor and shrugged it on. She still had no shoes and her feet were already getting numb from the cold bathroom tiles- she didn't even want to think what it would be like when she got out on the ice-covered ground- but she would have to do without them.