Mr. Write [COMPLETED]

Chapter 44 - "He was not screaming."

"Why we still here?" Elliot asked.

She stood in a short white bathrobe, with cotton slippers on her feet, in a large tiled bathroom. Clean mirrors lined the wall with granite counters and porcelain sinks beneath them.

"To get pampered," Cece said.

She wore the exact same outfit Elliot did with her brown hair pulled into bun on the top of her head.

"Tortured is more like it," Elliot said, frowned. "This place. These people. It's all just...blaaaahhh."

"How eloquently you put that," Cece said.

Elliot stared at her sister, trying not to scowl.

"I'm serious Cece, why are we having a spa day with people we could never relate to or understand. Why are we here?"

Cece moved towards Elliot and dramatically put her hands on her arms, giving her a look of deep concern.

"Oh dear," she said. "I knew it would happen sometime but not this soon. Oh cruel world! Oh the fates!" She put her hand to her forehead. "Why has my sister's mind gone when she was so young. Had so much to live for! The horror!"

Elliot shrugged off Cece's hand and leaned against the counter, her arms crossed.

"Are you finished being dramatic?" she asked.

Cece dropped her hand and looked at Elliot.

"Are you?"

"I'm not being dramatic. I'm being serious." She waved her hand towards the door. "I know we joke about murder but in the last two hours I have seriously contemplated it."

Cece shook her head. "Yeah, well El, it's not about that. We're here for one reason and one reason only, to celebrate with Michelle." She waved her hand towards the door. "Will you ever be able to relate to her friends? No, but we don't relate to the majority of human beings so this is no surprise. Our job today is to focus on Michelle."

Elliot walked over to one of the wide wicker chairs, positioned by a fake palm tree, and sat down. She draped her arms over the sides and let her head fall back.

"It's not just Michelle's friends, it's everything else," she said.

Cece took the chair beside her and propped her elbow on the arm rest, her chin in her hand.

"How very specific of you," she said.

Elliot slapped her arm. "You know what I mean. It's being back here with the people that we left behind. People that were so different from."

When Cece didn't reply, Elliot looked at her and scowled.

"You're still on the give-it-a-chance-you-might-be-surprised-what-you-find train, aren't you?"

"I am. Seems for you that train has left the station."

"It was never at the station. You're just an idiot standing on an empty platform."

Cece crossed her arms, saying nothing, which infuriated Elliot all the more. Frowning, she let out a loud sigh and sank deeper into the chair.

"Why are we here?" she asked again, staring at the wall.

"You wanna go home? Okay, let's go home. Let's get on a plane and leave. Screw the wedding and screw the family. Let's just leave and never give talk to them again."

"Now you're being patronizing."

"You don't want to stay here, El. So why not leave?" Cece shook her head, giving her sister a sad look. "The thing is whether you stay or whether you leave, it would make no difference. You're still connected to them. You still care too much about what happened in the past. If you left it would be because you were running."