Girls Astray. [Complete]

Amy: The girl up high

Flying up the stairwell there's only one thing going through my mind. Give me enough time. I don't even notice the sweat pouring down my chest or the fact my lungs are squeezing in every bit of oxygen they can under the strain of my thudding footsteps. All I know is, I need to find her.

I scramble through the fire door onto the roof of Lolita's apartment building. Yep, how didn't I think of it before.

There, huddled in the corner of the rooftop under an abundance of duvets and blankets, is a little blonde figure. Lolita!

"Lolita!" I screech hysterically, the relief flooding through my body to the point I could collapse. I almost leap onto her, but pause just before I'm about to.

She looks up at me behind dark hooded eyes, lost in her skull like face. Her lips are drawn and chapped, almost the same colour as her pale skin. Her once snowflake skin, now grey and faded. She looks-

"Lolita!" I yelp again pulling her into a bear hug- but I can't help but shudder. She's skin and bones, it's like I'm holding a sack full of twigs that I could crush at any moment. Tentatively, I let her go, but can't help but kiss her shrunken sad face. The tears pour down my face, I can't hold them back anymore.

She blinks at me.

"How long have you been here? What are you even doing here? We've been-"

I stop. My mother's voice is echoing across the roof top- or may as well be.

"Sorry," I say stepping back a little, "shall I take you to your room?"

She shakes her head a little. And looks down at the ground- at her phone before passing it to me.

It's open on the contacts list- the first name is Tom.

The little creature mutters through a croaky, small voice- so unlike the Lolita I know. "Call him. He'll be worried."

"Call him?" I ask, incredulously.

She nods but also reaches two bony arms towards me and I grab hold of her instinctively. She doesn't try and fight me off, if anything she seems to have given in. After all this time of hiding, she doesn't fight one bit. We stumble down from the rooftop, with Lolita relying heavily on my weight, her legs wobble at every step as if she's drunk. Her eyes roll around her head- not seeming to notice or see anything. Is she relieved? Happy? Angry? I couldn't tell you. But she's here; safe. She's here.