The Gifted

Chapter 7 - Oli

We hid. 
"They're leaving," Jamie whispered, disbelieving.
"Lois, Oli, they're gone."
I stood up. He was soon standing next to me. Lois stayed where she was.
"Lois?" He sounded a little irritated. We waited maybe thirty seconds.
"Lois, not funny." He scowled.
"Lois, please." I chimed in. Nothing.
"Lois, I'm serious!" I could hear the tremor in his voice.
There was no answer.

We searched the whole house. The back door was smashed in completely, shattered glass all over the floor. A path was cleared through the middle of it, like something large had been dragged in. Or out. Lois.
"Oh, shit." My voice cracked. Jamie, however, was thinking hard.
"The creature at the front door," he mumbled. "It never got in..." I'm not following.
"Yeah, well uh... I guess it was weak... and it was only one..." I frown. "The other Things were so quiet, though. That's not normal." Then it dawned on me. Jamie got there first:
"A distraction."

There were a lot of things that mystified us. Not Things, but things, lowercase. Although the capitalised type confused us too. Why did they take Lois with them? Why did they leave so suddenly? Surely they knew there were more of us? Why did they not hang around like they usually would? Why, why, why, why, why?? All these questions. And no answers. It was infuriating.

 I supposed I would never see her again. My best friend. 
"Awh, Lois..."
I felt angry. And embarrassed about being angry. And angry about being embarrassed. And just genuinely confused.

My eyes were hurting. They felt gritty, and kept burning painfully. Watery eyes teamed up with a sore throat. Maybe I was getting a cold? Or the dust from the door incident was getting to me? It looked like Jamie had something in his eye as well.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. Wiping my painful eyes with the palms of my hands, I searched for something to say. All that came out was a strangled sob. It was around then that I realised that doors had nothing to do with my painful predicament. My coming to that conclusion had just been some sort of defence mechanism. I haven't cried in a really long time. I guess I just forgot how it felt.

Once I opened the flood-gates, they couldn't be closed again. My face was wet and stinging. I crouched on the carpet among the splinters of wood and glass, and buried my face in my hands, shaking with sobs. 
A hand. On my shoulder. Jamie's hand. He dropped down next to me, ignoring the fragments of his own back door. I looked up at him. His eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. A droplet quivered on one of his lashes. It trembled, then cascaded down his face as he blinked.

He reached up to swipe it away, embarrassed. For some strange reason i caught his hand, and let the tear run onto my finger. It ran down my wrist, and dripped off my elbow onto my jeans. He watched it land, then glanced up hurriedly, face red. "Sorry,"
His mortification amused me a little. I started laughing, but it just turned into soft hiccups, followed by more tears. I leaned my head against his shoulder. He tensed up, then patted my head a little awkwardly. I felt myself drift off a little.