You saved me from myself

Chapter Fourteen

I should warn you, this is kind of heavy all around. Please read with caution.

...

"Merry Christmas, flower!" Delilah squealed as she practically bounced into his room.

"Shove your merriness up your arse, Lilah. Please." Louis groaned, burying his head underneath his pillow to escape the onslaught of the bright morning sun.

"Someone's grumpy." She teased as she curled up at the foot of his bed, ignoring his groan of protest when she tugged at his blankets to cover her, too. "Not a Christmas person?"

"You could say that," Louis said, giving up on falling back asleep and sitting up, facing her. "Alice would have been fourteen today, after all."

"Oh right," Delilah deflated a bit where she sat. "Shit—Your sister- I mean I... I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Louis shrugged. "It's been two years, I'll have to get over it someday."

"Lou, no." Delilah put her hand on top of his on the blankets. "I didn't mean it like that, that must've been so hard for you. And for the record, I don't believe that those we've lost are ever truly gone, you know?"

Louis looked up at her with a frown. "What do you mean?"

"That they're always with you. Both here," she placed a hand over her heart. "But also, just around us. Have you ever tried to fall asleep but it was impossible because you felt as if someone was staring at you, yet no one was there?"

Louis pondered that over for a moment, then nodded hesitantly.

"I believe that's them, watching over us." She gave him a warm smile.

Louis noticed suddenly how beautiful she was, with her big hazel eyes, olive skin and raven black hair. It had been a little longer than at her shoulders when he had met her, but had reached its way almost all the way to her navel now. Louis wondered vaguely how her hair could grow that fast. And he suddenly realised how young she was, well maybe not literally speaking, she was only a year younger than himself after all, but she just looked so young and delicate. As if all the despair and misery of the world had not affected her yet, or maybe she was just superb at hiding it.

"What are you staring at?" Delilah's voice brought him out of his trance.

"Oh—Nothing," Louis said, giving her a smile. "I just, how do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Stay so... Positive, and bubbly? Isn't it hard?"

Delilah thought for a moment, before shaking her head.

"I mean, not really. I just find that being bitter doesn't change anything, you know? I'd just feel worse if I, on top of all this shit, would go around being bitter at everything. I reckon my soul would rot, and what am I then? A shell?" She sighed.

"My mother died when I was seven, she overdosed. My brother found her when he came home from school, he was eleven. I was so angry then, mad at the world and wondering why it was punishing me, what had I done that was that bad? My brother and I got into the care of my aunt, she wasn't doing so good after mum's death, but she did her best to take care of us. We had it pretty bad, she didn't have too much money and then she was given two kids to care for on top of it all. She does a lot of charity work, and works nights doing whatever job she can take."

Louis sat quiet, letting her pour it all out. He had wondered about what happened to Delilah, and he was not about to stop her telling him now.

"My brother, Elijah, started using M when he was fourteen, started selling it at sixteen. My aunt was livid when she found out, she went through all of his stuff and flushed it all away down the toilet. Or so she thought she did."