Into You

I ran, to keep her safe

Running. Its all I've done since I was little. I used to run track in high school, I was pretty good actually, but soon there was no reason for me to do it anymore.

I first ran because I was shy and my mother thought it would be a good way to socialise. I continued to do it because it made my father proud of me. And I stopped because my parents stopped breathing.

Chelsea and I were just about to turn sixteen when it happened. Nothing too dramatic, just an undetected aneurysm in my mothers brain that burst while she was at the wheel. My dad was the collateral damage as he was in the front seat.

It could've happened to anybody, it was nobody's fault so I never dwelled on the matter. I continued as though I'd always lived with just my twin. But Chelsea, she never took anything well.

Like on our eighth birthday, we got a dollhouse set to share. She wanted one for herself and didn't get it so she didn't speak to anybody for two weeks. She's always been like this. And I've always been there to fix it.

So when our parents died, I fixed it. She would cry and I would get her tissues. She didn't want to live with our great aunt Emelda so I packed us a bag in the night and stole the money stashed in Emelda's underwear drawer and took us to the bus station. We made it a whole town over before anybody realised we were missing.

Even when she would come home late at night after having drank herself to oblivion during exam season because of the stress, it would be me who put her to bed and made her a greasy breakfast to sooth the hangover when she awoke. I always fixed it.

But I couldn't fix this. Chelsea was gone and she was never coming back.

She'd left me before when she went to start a career in acting when she was eighteen. I stayed and cared for aunt Emelda who had been deteriorating for the past year due to old age. She died a mere month later. I sorted out the funeral and worked in a museum nearby when I wasn't studying to keep up with the mortgage or attempting to keep a boyfriend.

It was difficult but after two years of hard work and really late nights  I'd payed off what was left of the mortgage and was about to start my final year of my degree in software engineering at the only university in town. And I'd left the cheating bastard and any hopes of marriage behind. I think that was the first time I'd ever done something that I was truly proud of.

But then as usual, Chelsea had come back with a mess and I of course just had to fix it.

I opened the door to her during a storm in mid August, the dry heat of Summer was finally fleeing our small town. I was shocked to see her for a plethora of reasons.

She hadn't spoken to me since she left, not even when I contacted her to let her know Emelda was gone. She never came to the funeral but that was no surprise; she never liked Emelda. Maybe because she always smelled like dried cinnamon, a smell Chelsea detested, due to her affliction with a certain swiss baked good. Or perhaps it was because of what she represented: a life without our parents, a life alone.

Chelsea was never good on her own, she always needed someone there for her. So no, her being back really wasn't a shock. I think I knew she'd be back eventually - for money maybe. But what did shock me was how skinny and sickly she looked, I mean she'd always been the slimmer twin without a doubt, but this was concerning.

Her face was lifeless and grey and pale and - empty. Her blue eyes, eyes we both shared, were dim and cold. As was her soaked self.

It reminded me too much of the times in our teens when she would go out to bars and drink insane amounts of alcohol and come home days later saying that she'd, "spent the night with a friend", these were of course all male friends who were much older and only wanted one thing from her, which she readily gave. I'm pretty sure from the bruised veins on her inner elbow and toes that drugs were a part of that time too.

She would date these guys because she needed to be loved, she always needed to be loved. But the love they gave her was never good for anyone. Especially not her.

I let her in as fast as I could and grabbed towels from the cupboard to dry her as I pulled the door shut and edged her towards the burning fire.

She didn't speak a word to me that night. I dried her hair and stripped her of her soaked coat and stood stunned.

Her collar bones were protruding in an unhealthy way. I lowered my gaze to her chest which was much larger than her usual B cup breasts, then down to her round and hardened belly.

She said nothing, so I said nothing.

I continued to undress her and replaced her sopping clothes with warm pyjamas and wrapped a blanket around her.

My mind was full of questions which she never answered, so I sat beside her and pulled her into my embrace as she let a flood of tears flow. I caressed her hair until she fell asleep.

I knew that night that Chelsea needed me but now another little person was gonna need me even more.

So just like I spent my life fixing everything for Chelsea, I would fix everything for Lily. Even if that meant I had to run. I would do it.

I would run to keep her safe.