The Good-For-Nothing Society | Completed

Chapter Twelve

I wake with a start - my eyes snap open, but my body doesn't move. I blink a few times, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. There's little light filtering into the room but just enough to let me see that I'm in The Sanatorium. I'm lying on a hard bed with crisp white sheets. There are three empty beds surrounding me, making us form a square, each with their own little curtain for privacy. It really is like it's own hospital.

In the chair next to my bedside is a male figure sprawled out, breathing deeply. I don't need much light to know it's Elijah, he's asleep, one long leg stretched out in front of him, his arms across his chest. I feel strangely touched by his presence, comforted too. I sit up, and then I remember why I'm here.

Mum is dead. Mum was a spy. Dad was a spy. They're both dead. I'm an orphan. The only people I have in my life now are the ones here in this school. I've only known them for a month, that's the longest anyone in my life has known me now, a month. That's no time at all.

My old life has been eviscerated.

I always thought mum was a doe-eyed, spaced-out hippy, but turns out she was a spy. It was an act, a really good one too, because everyone fell for it. Everyone thought she was innocent, dreamlike and beautiful. No one will have thought of her as a trained killer, because she was so unassuming and fragile looking.

It's very bizarre to think back to the people you thought you knew best, only to see you didn't know them at all. It seems like another world where dad was just an engineer. It was all an act. Was their love for me an act? How do I even know I'm truly their daughter? How do I even know they're dead?

I sigh, because I know. I know the truth deep in my bones, I know dad loved me, maybe mum did too. I know they aren't here with us anymore. Nothing will have kept dad from me this long, he would have given me some kind of sign that he's watching me. But there is nothing; just this empty, pulsating feeling in my chest; an ache that doesn't feel like it will ever leave.

Tears spring to my eyes and I wipe them away immediately, they have no place here. I'm not the one who is dead. I'm not the one who was shot in the head in front of her daughter. I'm alive. I'm here. I'm not to sink into the grief that is ebbing at me. I am in spy school, for heavens sake! Spies don't cry! They mark them up and move on.

Saying this to myself doesn't stop the tears from furiously spooling over though, even my own tear-ducts are traitors.

I must make another noise because Elijah's eyes snap open and he looks at me. We gaze at each other for a second, then he sits up straighter and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His face is blotchy of purple, red and blue bruises from where mum knocked him out.

"Hey," He whispers.

"Hi," I whisper back, trying to stop my voice from sounding so thick.

"How you feeling?" He asks.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" I point at his face. "Is it sore?"

He chuckles, "Yes. Very. She got me good."

The tears well up again as the image of her blood covered face fills my mind. She was a spy! "I didn't even know her. She was my mum and I had no idea who she was."

"Hey," Elijah says, in a cooing way. "She was a spy, Amelia. You were never supposed to know. They would have been terrible spies if you had even the slightest idea."

"But I did," I huff, then I have to take a deep breath because the emotion is threatening to overthrow me. "Not about mum. But dad - dad had an office, in the house and I used to joke he was James Bond. They both thought it was hilarious. They would mock me for it endlessly. But he was so secretive and particular - I always had to be supervised every time I set foot in that bloody room! I used to joke about it! And he actually was-"