Rest In Peace (sequel to After They Died)

27- Freddie

I wake up and for a moment I'm unaware of my surroundings. I fumble groggily for my alarm clock to check the time, but it isn't there. And neither is my signed football on the shelf above my bed, or my tattered '101 Jokes' book. Nothing is the same and despite my anger towards my dad, all I want is to go home. To sleep in my bed; to go to my school; to be under the same roof as my family. But I can't get that.

I head downstairs for breakfast, suddenly ravenous. A sizzling of bacon and sausages fills my ears. Mmm a fry up. "Ah there you are Freddie, did you sleep well dear?" Margaret is in the kitchen sipping at a cup of coffee while Jeremy fries the food. "Yes thank you."
"Hello lad, fry up for you?"
"Sounds great thanks." I say, my mouth already salivating, craving the greasy goodness.

He sets a plate full of English breakfast. Two sausages and three rashers of bacon drown in grease and a fried egg with sprinkled pepper sits on the plate. Not forgetting a hash brown and a scoop full of baked beans swimming in tomato sauce. I dig in hurriedly, not skipping a beat. "How's the breakfast?"
"Mmm. Itfs vewy good fanks." I spit, my mouth already occupied with a large bite of salty sausage. "Good, eat up chap, there's plenty more." I devour the plate full of food but restrict myself from asking for more- I'd probably be sick. My stomach is satisfied and I feel drowsy even though I've only just got out of bed! Mmm that breakfast was bliss! So worth it.

"Any news from Ellie?" I ask, taking my plate up to the dishwasher.
"Ellie...?"
"The girl in hospital."
"The one you saved?"
"Well technically, I guess, yeah."
"Ah yes, the hospital rang and she is making rapid progress, she'll even be doing some physio therapy tomorrow!"
"Oh wow, that's great! I couldn't possibly...no don't worry." I trail off, not wanting to seem ungrateful for everything they've already done. "You want to visit her?"
"If it's no trouble..."
"Aww, you're a lovely young chap, Freddie, of course I will take you!" Margaret ruffles my hair affectionately.
"Get yourself ready then and we'll leave in half an hour."
"Thanks!"

I rush upstairs and know exactly what I must do, I need to tell Ellie the truth, no matter how much it hurts. I change into jeans and a top and rehearse what I'm going to say to her.

It was my dad who took you- and Rachel. Her fragile face filling with tears.

I led my dad to you, I encouraged him. The shocked confusion crossing her face.

I listened to Rachel's screams when my dad hurt her as I drifted off to sleep; you were tougher, cried less. A trembling hand guarding her dropped jaw.

I can't tell her. I have to tell her, but how? How do I stop myself from backing out?

"You ready Freddie?" Margaret snaps me out of my daydreams: it's time. Sighing, I rush out of the room and downstairs where she waits by the door.

A short while later we arrive and Ellie's face lights up as I walk into the room, it hurts to see her so happy, knowing that I am about to shatter her heart into a million tiny pieces.

I compose myself, wiping my clammy palms into the back of my jeans. Margaret heads over to the cafe, waving me goodbye.

"You came back!"
"Of course I did."
"I missed you."
"I really need to tell you something, ok?"
"What is it?"
"I—" I gulp, "My, uh, my dad was the one who took you- and um Rachel."
"Who's Rachel? What are you talking about?" Ugh, I forgot that she'd lost her memory.
"Your twin but that's not important now. I led you - and Rachel - to him, I encouraged him. I'm a monster, not a hero."
"But why?" Her voice cracks.
"I don't know, but I am so sorry."

Her lip starts to quiver and her eyes water. One brave tear rolls defiantly and she abruptly wipes it away, embarrassed. She turns even paler than before and she looks up at me with her big brown eyes, vulnerable, broken beyond repair. Emotionally as well physically. She looks like a crushed puppy, and she is no longer able to hide the tears streaking her thin face.

"Ellie, I'm so..."
Anger flashes across her previously innocent face and I'm taken aback. "No. Don't tell me you're sorry." She spits, "If you were sorry you wouldn't have let me call you my hero, you would have told me the truth."
"You were too weak."
"Shut up! You have no excuse so save it, listen to me. I kept going, kept fighting death, in excruciating pain everyday, battling an overwhelming tiredness and do you want to know what my one incentive was, the one reason I never gave up? You! You were my motivation, my everything! I'd forgotten everything, but I remembered you! My so-called hero. How could you be so nasty that guilt wouldn't consume you by lying to me so openly? You're despicable." She is truly livid, her cheeks tinged pink and her red-laced eyes bulging. She's now shaking with rage as opposed to shock but she can't hate me anymore than I hate myself right now. "Have you seriously got nothing to say to me? Nothing? After everything that you and your sick father have put me through, you have absolutely nothing to say for yourself? I bet you aren't even sorry!"
"Ellie, I...it was complicated."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, that kidnapping and abusing me was so difficult and complicated for you, poor, precious little Freddie. I bet you're dad was praising you on how you were dealing with me. Perfect Freddie everyone loves. And you did it to my twin to? Well where is she? Is this just another lie?"
"Ellie please..."
"Get me my sister."
"She's dead ok?!"

Her jaw drops almost comically and she begins to shake. Spasms racking her still fragile body. I stand in the centre of the chaos as mayhem erupts around me. Ellie is right: this is all my fault.