Pulse

beat fourteen

There is only one thing in her life Eden was certain of. And that is that you can't find what you're looking for if you know where to look.

She sat on the same old couch, in front of the same old window, looking at the same old stains on the same old carpet and wondering the same old thing over and over again; why even try?

The answer was simple; Ace. He did not leave until unholy hours of the morning, when Eden insisted he needed some sleep. He did not, however, sleep over, but headed down the road to wherever he lived.

Eden found herself wondering about his life, his family. What was his room like? Did he have people that loved him unconditionally? Eden hoped he did; because Ace deserved that. Though, still, there was countless questions, and Eden had countless different answers, though doubted any of them were correct.

But the most important one was why he wanted her to remember whatever there was to remember, so badly?

"You're wasting your breath asking that question," he told her.

"You're wasting time not answering it," she fired back.

"So we're both wasting time and breath. Why not just make out already?" Eden wasn't used to Ace being so blunt, but she actually cracked a smile, to which he grinned so wide that if he didn't have ears, he'd smile around his head.

It was a Friday afternoon, and she felt like falling asleep, but couldn't really sleep. She heard shuffling in nana's room, and went to check on her, to see the old lady sleeping peacefully, for once. She smiled lightly, a tear she didn't acknowledge slowly gliding down her scarred cheek.

"What did I do to you all," she whispered into the void, "to make you all long for someone who's not existing in this body anymore."

She leaned on the doorway and kept her gaze on her poor grandmother, the tumor eating at her brain, bringing out all the things she kept quiet about for so long. It was traumatizing, though she didn't want to admit it, to have the one person you completely trust tell you everything you feared.

Eden knew it wasn't her fault. But she also knew that it wouldn't make it hurt any less, and with the reassurance of anyone, she would still feel guilty.

She worked as much as she could as long as she could. She didn't feel her legs anymore, and sleep was a stranger. Eden was sure it was one of the worst times in her life. She needed money, because if she couldn't save her grandmother's life, she could at least provide shelter for both of them as long as she could.

If her lungs weren't drowning in depression, she'd be able to make a living out of the money she got. But she needed to pay rent and other bills, and faking that it was her grandmother paying it took a lot of effort. If it wasn't for Ace, she probably wouldn't eat. She fed her grandmother a chicken soup Ace brought every three days. And she thanked him, over and over again, and he'd just smile, saying he owed her his life. She didn't know what he meant, and he played so many mind games, and he sometimes said so many things that confused her to the limit. But he seemed to see in her someone who wasn't there, and she was afraid to ask about it. So she'd lie to him and he'd lie to her, and so they went in sinner circles.

She worked in Scream since dawn to sunrise, hating every second of it. She barely attended school, but somehow, no one noticed. Well, almost no one.

Mr Peterson appeared at her door that dreadful Friday afternoon with a worried smile. Eden opened the door with caution, since Ace didn't knock, she didn't think there was no one else left to come and see her. She was surprised at his arrival, and he was a smart man, so there was no saying that everything was fine and dandy, since he read the face of the girl like a book; though she wished, if she was already a book to read, that he wouldn't know how to read it.