Misfits (#2)

51.

She's always been there to take care of us all since our births but she never thought to create a family of her own. Content to look after our family instead? Honestly, my brothers treated her like shit sometimes and mother - god, she was the worst of us all. Always, impossibly cruel to Ruth. But now her entire body tenses and I stare at her, realising I may have been wrong.

"You have a family?" I wipe at my eyes, surprised.

"No." She looks away.

"Children?"

Again, that stiff posture I can't place. She tucks back a strand of her ink black hair, paired with dark and deep blue eyes. For a long moment, I anticipate an answer.

She starts to head out, "One."

I stare at the spot she was standing once she's gone, shocked. Ruth has a wing to herself though it's not compulsory for her to stay there. I never keep track of if she does, or doesn't. She's always been a constant but not a significant factor in my life, never a priority.

I try hard to absorb her words. Eventually, I force myself up on shaking legs and into my room. Anything that I have is going to Rockley Academy tomorrow.

Not NYU. Not with Everest. Not with Val or Ria. Utterly by myself. Left to a wicked boy who's only going to make my life a living hell.

I don't want to stay here so I creep out of my room, the manor dark and uninviting. I never called this place a home. It was always the manor. It sheltered me but never felt like a haven and somehow, that apartment had turned into a sanctuary so quickly.

I walk until I'm around the back, the pond riddled with algae and the delicate gazebo. It's dark around me with gentle brushes of warm wind. I walk across the pathway until I'm in the gazebo, stepping up onto the ledge. I latch onto the roof and manage to lift myself up, like Everest had done for both of us that day.

Once I'm securely on the roof, I sit and bring my knees up to my chest. I have a clearer view of the sky, taller up here. I've always preferred mornings but I have no desire to sleep or sit in that room any longer.

I brave myself and slip out my phone. I've been avoiding it all day, all night and it's almost four in the morning now. Not wanting to hear his voice is only self-protection. It'll only hurt.

I return one of the several missed calls, every ring making my heart beat louder. Until it stops and he's silent. I know he's on the other line and my eyes fall shut.

"Let me steal you away."

I rest my cheek on my knees and say, "Are you home safe?"

"We'll burn the pictures together. I'll kill him myself and you can come back home." He continues but Everest's voice has changed. There's no genuine hope and no tenderness at all. All that's left sounds shattered and it hurts to know that I don't sound much different.

"You're not doing this. You can't cling onto things that won't happen." I say and wipe a fallen tear with the back of my hand "I don't want you miserable."

"I don't want you states away from me." He grounds out.

Massachussets. Hundreds of miles. My fingers indent into my legs from deep, raw anxiety as he continues, "Dean can do whatever the fuck he wants to you and I won't have a clue. None of us will."

"Stop." I say, tears falling.

"Why is it you? Why do you have to suffer whilst we're all here, while I'm here?" He starts to breathe heavier, emotion seeping back into his voice, "Don't go."