Bold = Elliot
"Grace...Grace was the second eldest. A year older than Noah and a couple years younger than Jacob. She...she was always a bit more vibrant than the rest of us. She would run around the house threatening to splatter all of our clothes with paint if she didn't get what she wanted for dinner. Which...may seem bratty. But she...it was just...Grace. It was her way of going about things. She would always get her way. And she would always voice her opinions. I mean, if she didn't like your sweater she sure as hell wouldn't keep quiet about it.
And we all loved her. And she fitted in with us even if she was the only girl. I don't think I ever saw her wear a dress or skirt. Even when she was a little kid. And we...we were all incredibly protective of her. There was...there was this one time when this guy had cheated on Grace and she...she had been crying about it for days so we...all three of her brothers showed up on his doorstep with baseball bats. And she told us off afterwards but she...she was laughing.
She...she was always laughing.
And she was really pretty, too. And I'm not biased or anything. But she was. Even though she never bothered with her appearance. She had this...this really knotty blonde hair that she could never be bothered to brush so always put it in a ponytail. And she...she had the same brown eyes as all of us and she had...she had the most adorable freckles. She was also really short. And we would always tease us about it. And then she would threaten to paint all our bedrooms pink.
And she would always wear this one pair of dungarees, no matter how dirty it got or how covered it was with paint. And mum would always have to quickly wash it overnight so that Grace could wear it the next morning. Grace loved art...she...she was brilliant at it too.
And everyone loved her. I...I...they must have done. There was no way that they couldn't. She was just so...so much of everything that there was nothing when she left. Her...her personality was like a...like a wildfire. It spread like crazy. And all her smiles were contagious. And her laugh made you want to laugh with her. And she filled up rooms just by being in them. And I...I can't explain it but it's...it's just what she did. She would just walk into a room and everyone would look at her. And she would have everyone's attention. Somehow. And I...everyone was just in awe of her. She...she really was a sister to be proud of. Even...even if she could be annoying as hell sometimes but then...I don't think I would love her as much if she was any different. She was just so fearless in being herself. And she knew what she wanted to do with her life. And I didn't.
I...I was always afraid to be who I really was and there she was...just shouting out her voice for the whole world to hear. And a lot...a lot of people respected her for that. And she would always tease me about ridiculous things. But the teasing it...it gave me a reason to be close to her. And now I miss her teasing. When I...when ever I mess something up I'm always expecting her to show up and tease me for it. But she's not...she's not here. And now she can't hug me when I cry or stop me from trying to kill Jacob when he takes my food from the fridge or try to teach me to draw even though I'm utterly hopeless or listen to my endless conspiracy theories on why the Titanic didn't actually sink and I...I just...I miss her so much."
Isabella pulled Elliot in close as he cried into her shoulder, body shaking as his words scrambled into unintelligible sobs.
YOU ARE READING
Never Alone
Short Story❝In which two people call up a helpline in order to find someone just as broken as they are. ❞ "Does...does it bother you that my dad's in prison for murder?" "Well, judging by the fact that I moved away from America to get away from the memory of a...