BORROWED [Watty Awards Finalist/NEWLY EDITED!]

Chapter Five

|Finnian|

Today is the day, my seventeenth birthday. Waking up and being a year older doesn't feel any different from yesterday. Cake and balloons seem minuscule after finding out you're becoming a Borrowed, and that the war has taken your brother's life.

Mom hasn't spoken to me since yesterday. She keeps herself locked inside the bedroom. Late last night, I could hear her sneaking out quietly to the bathroom, blowing her nose, getting a glass of water, and rustling through the medicine cabinet for her sleeping pills.

While she is feeling emotional pain, I'm feeling numbness, an immunity to sorrow that I can't understand.

To make matters worse, Bianca messaged me when I woke up. She's just as persistent as Kyler. After nagging me for a half hour, I've agreed to meet her at the espresso shop.

Walking toward the large window of the building, I notice Bianca sitting inside at a round table for two. She sips her hot drink diligently. Pushing open the entrance door, an obnoxious bell rings to announce my arrival, an unwanted welcoming. The young guy behind the register smiles with a nod of his head. I shyly wave, and turn towards Bianca.

She waves me over and says, "Birthday Girl!"

I walk up to the table and sit in the seat across from her.

"Wow," she says. "You look tired..." Bianca raises her drink to her lips, trying to hide her expression. It's just another way of telling me I look like crap.

I rub my eyes, probably smearing mascara. "I couldn't sleep after finding out my brother is dead."

Bianca begins to choke on her drink, mocha colored droplets dribble down her chin as she wipes them away quickly. "Oh, Irissa..."

"Don't say anything. I just needed to say it out loud," I say, staring out the window at the quieting city. "I'm told if you say something out loud enough times it will eventually seem real."

So far, it isn't working.

"Sure, whatever you need to do," she says, sadness lining her tone of voice.

People's figures become blurry while briskly walking past the window, as I fall deeper into a daze. Why him? Why someone full of life? It should have been me in his place. I'm just here, for what? To become a host for the Seraphim...

A cluster of people gather outside in front of my line of vision through the window. The Borrowers. Hunter green fatigues clad their bodies, with black leather boots pounding the pavement. The red berets on top of each head match the patch on the sides of their sleeves. One of them with the deepest brown eyes I've ever seen stares point blank at me, smiling wickedly, and nudges his comrade next to him. They laugh, mocking me with their lips puckered, smooching the air.

A patch...

And hands...

Borrowers.

"Are you okay?"

Bianca's voice causes me to finally blink. I shift in my seat and push my back against the window. My pulse quickens, so I close my eyes, taking a breath. After regaining my composure, I look over at Bianca. "I'm fine," I say shakily.

She frowns. "You don't sound fine." Looking out the window, she rolls her eyes. "Worried about those assholes?"

"No. I'm fine," I say. It doesn't matter what I think of them. They're going to come to my home, anyway. "Can't wait to be properly introduced to them," I add.

Bianca sits up straight, slapping her hand on top of the table. "Did I just sense sarcasm and maybe a bit of humor?" Her mouth curls into a smirk.

Trying to sound as daft as the red headed girl giggling across the room, I say, "Maybe!"