"Today was the day, my parents had finally given up on me, and I wasn't sure how to feel about that."
Ever feel like your own mind, your own body, is keeping secrets from you?
My name is Eden Moore, and I'm not scared of spiders, or snakes, I'm sca...
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A/N~ Included some Eden art done by yours truly :)
Enoch's fist had collided directly with the centre of my father's face. His glasses snapped in the middle, and he had stumbled backwards into the stair railing. My mother was in a state of frenzied rage, within a minute she had thrown our two suitcases outside, sending them clattering onto the ground.
"Get out! Maniac!" She screeched, pointing angrily at Enoch. My father groaned from the stairwell, I saw some blood speckled on the hand he was holding his nose with. When my mother slammed the door, Enoch stood still for a moment, shoulders tensed. He was breathing heavily, turning and picked up our two suitcases in one hand, grabbing mine in the other.
"Come on." He said sternly, beginning to lead me towards the gate at the end of the driveway.
"Enoch." I said quietly, stopping in my tracks, making him spin around to face me. His determined face dropped, becoming one of guilt. I lifted his right hand, seeing the knuckles were red and bruising. I delicately ran my thumb over them, pursing my lips together.
"I'm sorry. He just..." He muttered. I ignored his apology, in my opinion, he didn't need one. I stepped closer to him, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I just needed to stop for a minute. Desperate for the feeling of calm to wash over me.
His forehead pressed against my own, and finally I let go of some of the pressure that had building up in my head. After what seemed like forever and a day, I opened the gate. Going through possible places we could stay the night in my mind.
"We can't leave until tomorrow morning." I whispered to him, keeping my voice low for no particular reason. He nodded gently.
I closed the gate behind us, then made eye contact with Enoch again. He looked troubled, which made me feel troubled. I laced my fingers with his free hand, perhaps gripping it too tightly, but he didn't protest.
...
We ended up walking to the dock where the early morning ferry would arrive tomorrow, to bring us back to the island. There was a metal shelter overlooking the ocean, where passengers would await their boats. That's where we sat. It's metal interior was decorated with offensive graffiti, and the old plastic seats were uncomfortably cold. It was dark, but the air was less chilly, and the clouds seemed to be holding their rainfall for the night.
I listened to the gentle white noise of the sea, while looking over its dull black surface. I didn't know why, but the water here seemed less alive than the ocean surrounding Cairnholm. The buzz of traffic in the distance seemed to quieten, like the city was going to sleep. Enoch had pushed his scratchy wool jumper into my hands, making sure I put it on. I hadn't realised how cold I was until I warmed up.
"I'm sorry Enoch." I said bluntly. I felt like it needed to be said.
"For what?" He replied, moving his gaze from the tarmac ground to me.
