Her Silence

Chapter Twenty Nine

"At least her last words to him had been words of love. But she wished she'd told him just how much she loved him. How much she had to thank him for, how many good things he had done. She hadn't told him nearly enough."  Kristin Cashore

"I said," Amy repeats in clear annoyance at James ignoring her, "that Rosie looks gorgeous tonight. Doesn't she?" James gives her a meaningless smile, and then looks at me, dead in the eye. I know he's thinking about anything asides from how I look tonight.

"You bet she does," he replies, in a tone suggesting it's common knowledge. I can feel myself heating up, and I jump when James takes hold of my hand. "There isn't a day that she doesn't." That does it. I know for a fact that I am as red as a tomato. Amy huffs beside me.

"Why can't you love me like that Matt?" Oh, so that's his name. Amy never actually introduced her partner, who honestly seems pretty boring and not Amy's type at all. Processing what she just said and witnessing Matt's reaction, I cover my mouth to hide my laugh. I forgot how outspoken Amy can be. Matt is seemingly scrounging for a response and begins stuttering.

"Well... well, Amy, we have only been seeing each other for two months. You're not even my girlfriend." Does he have a death wish? "Yet." Definitely a death wish. Amy understandably stands up to leave and when I go to follow her James tries to stop me, but I look at him pleadingly to let me go and comfort her. As soon as he lets go of my hand I run after Amy, who is oddly heading through the doors towards the kitchen. Why not the toilet? I don't let myself ponder about stereotypes and carry on speeding through the tables until I've caught up with her just before the stairs. I grab her arm and she turns around, greeting me with a blank face. She smiles tightly and continues to climb down the rickety steps, which I haven't missed at all, and heads to the locker room. I'm slightly confused as to why she is acting in such a way; I never envisaged her to be the type of person to get so upset over a man who has the personality of a wooden spoon. Walking into the locker room, Amy is standing behind the benches with a complacent look on her face, facing me.

"Amy, are you okay?" I ask. "He honestly isn't worth it there are so many more-"

"Stop. I'm fine." She holds her hand up, and I can't help but notice both are shaking and that she's turned a hideous shade of grey.

"Are you ill? Amy you look awful, do you want to go home?"

"No" She screams, making me jump.

"Are you having..." I pause to consider how I can phrase this without sending insensitive but Amy is looking beside herself. Fuck it, insensitivity it is. "Are you having some sort of breakdown? Is there more to this than just Matt?"

"Christ Rosie, stop asking questions!" She screeches deliriously. "Sit down. I'm going to get some water." Fair enough. I nod and do as she says. She walks out of the locker room in a hurry and into the kitchen. I stretch so that I'm sitting up as straight as I can to be able to peer out of the windows, and see that Amy isn't even near the tap and most certainly isn't holding a glass, and is instead thrashing around through the cupboards, evidently looking for something. What on earth is she doing? I stand up and head towards the door but stop myself in horror when she freezes in what seems like bewilderment and looks at me incredulously. She begins to stride back towards to the door with such an ugly look on her face that I actually back away, but then run forwards again when I realise that she's got a key in her hand. Oh, surely not. She beats me to it, and actually locks me in. For a moment I don't react. I'm in total confusion as to what is going on right now. I blink a few times at the retreating figure, who most certainly isn't Amy. I do not believe in the supernatural, but I'm nearly convinced that she's been possessed. I begin to hammer on the door to get her attention but she doesn't look my way. Not once. I begin to have vivid images of the day when I couldn't find my dad and step back from the door, which is shifting into the form of the bathroom door of my childhood. I shut my eyes and put my hands on my head. I breath deeply. I cannot have a panic attack, nor any sort of hallucination right now. I open my eyes, and during the time that I was having a mental argument, Amy had seemingly disappeared. She is no longer in the kitchen and has been replaced by the orange beast that is fire. Thick black smoke is seeping through the doors, and with any stroke of luck up the stairs and into the bar. Someone will notice. They have to. I can't have long until it rips through the windows and door of the locker room. It will kill me. I head to the back wall of the room and lay down, remembering that heat rises and that being as low to the ground as possible will increase any remote chance of survival. Once I'm down I slowly begin to consider that these may be the final two minutes of my life and I never even got to tell James that I love him. I pat around my body and cry out in relief when I feel my phone in my back pocket. Without a moment of hesitation I turn it on and get up James's number. I type those three defining words as a message and hit send without a doubt.

*****

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