Falling

Chapter Six

Sarah looked white as a sheet at training, which was always difficult with skin the colour of a melted milk chocolate bar. Owen had hardly been concentrating on shooting but instead on her, it was her first night back after three months of going through rehab for her wrists, knee and neck. Amelia had decided it was better for her to stay home and do band work and then shoot at home until she was feeling better.

Owen hadn't heard from her, she wasn't speaking to him. Vic had instead been sneaking him updates about what was going on. Apparently she hadn't been eating, or talking much. She'd been doing all her school work in a dark bedroom, shooting in a dark garage and only occasionally having monosyllabic conversations with Vic.

Owen missed her. He'd seen more of Ruby than he had in the whole time they'd been dating. She'd also been happier in these three months than she had the whole time they'd been dating.

Now Sarah stood on the other side of the field, her body smaller than he remembered, her movements far more fluid. Amelia grabbed his face and turned it towards her.

"Owen," She said, "I know you care, I know you want to see her, but for now, shoot." He couldn't concentrate though, and for someone who managed to spend long amounts of time thinking of literally nothing, this didn't work for him. When Amelia wasn't looking, he did. He watched her faraway technique, marvelling at how it looked, his ability to see the muscles shifting. She seemed so very, very, small. It messed with his head. She looked so small, cold, faraway, so unlike the person he knew.

Her presence was always so huge, so amplified, now she was there, but she wasn't, she was in a far off land, unable to communicate with him down on Earth.

It hurt to look at her but he was happy to repeatedly stab himself in the foot. Amelia grabbed his face again but there was something remorseful in her eyes.

"We leave in two months, is this how you plan to prepare, by staring instead of shooting?" He stayed silent and shrugged. It had been easier, right after it happened. He could look after her, he could carry her, he could be caring, he just had to get her through the moments. One moment at a time, he shot his anger into targets so she couldn't feel it in him. Then suddenly she wasn't there. He had coffee ice cream in his hand that he hated, from that gelato stall at the mall that she loved, when his mother told him that Amelia had taken her home.

He had bristled at the idea of Kelly and Brian having their hooks in her again. Before his mother could explain what she meant, he was out the door. He laid the ice cream on his passenger seat and raced to her house. He smashed his fist on the door and when it opened, he pushed his way in. Kelly jumped back in surprise.

"Is she here?" He asked, practically breathless by this point. Kelly regained her little composure and replied through pursed lips:

"No, and she's not welcome." Owen nodded and pushed his back through to her room. He grabbed bags out of her wardrobe, threw all of her clothes inside, stuffing them as tightly and quickly as he could, he grabbed her small collection of jewellery of the drawers and rammed them into his pockets. He decreased his pace to wrap her little nik naks in hoodies, he didn't know how breakable they were.

He did the same with the few photos, he tried not to smirk at the photo she'd forced him into on their trip up North and had put into a novelty frame from the zoo. He threw the bags over his back, grabbed her bow case, her pillow and the soft toy she had carted around since she was six, a little elephant she called Jonesy.

Kelly tried to stop him but he ignored her, loaded the stuff into his truck, confirmed that yes, she could call the cops and set off in the direction of Amelia's house.

The ice cream had completely lost its shape by the time he got there.

Kyle answered the door when Owen knocked. He called for Amelia, but she wouldn't let him in.