The Essence of Water

NEW VERSION Chapter 5

For all the times I imagined myself leaving this house I never once thought about what I would pack. Nor did it ever cross my mind that everything I own could fit in a backpack. The reality is somewhat depressing. No photos. No books. No toys. I wish I had more to pack. It would give me a reason to stall.

The Handlers are downstairs with Henry and Gretchen. The look on Gretchen's face when Mr. Handler told her was the same face she'd given me all these years when I did something she didn't like. But this time she actually looked satisfied, it was as though she finally had a real excuse to explain why I was such a disappointment and why her parenting skills hadn't helped in taming my 'rebellious intentions'. Henry however was a slew of emotions. I had to go upstairs because I couldn't bear to see him shouting and partly because I felt like crying in peace. Henry cared; maybe it was only because he saw me like a loyal pet that is lucky to keep around the house. But I have a hard time believing it, he called me his daughter and that meant something, it has to.

So I cried while I found my backpack in the closet. I cried when I packed my socks and cried when I packed my jeans. My tears stopped somewhere between the pants and shirts; my emotions stopped somewhere between shirts and hoodie. I am numb, numb because I can't afford to be anything else. My brain won't let me think of the word that is brewing in my stomach because if I speak it I might vomit. If I speak it I might run and the rest of me may never catch up. Can you outrun death? Death and I have stared at each other twice and death blinked first. Can I do the same with a virus?

There is a tap on my door. My hand tightens around one of the shoulder straps on by backpack. "Yes?" I call.

"Adie?" The door swings open, its Ms. Handler. She looks at my bag, then my face, and offers me a sad sort of smile. I'm not sure if it's real. "It's time to go," she says.

I swallow but there's nothing there. My mouth is dry. I feel as though I'm shriveling up from the inside out. I swing the bag onto one shoulder and look around the room that was never mine. For the first time I feel like I'm leaving my home. I wish I had felt this way sooner, had more time to feel a part of a home. Now I won't get another chance, because I'm dying.

I shiver and walk out of my room. Ms. Handler walks beside me, one hand gently on my shoulder for reassurance. At the bottom of the steps Mr. Handler waits by the open door. Gretchen and Henry are there too and so is Jack.

Gretchen says absolutely nothing she just folds her arms in front of her. Jack whines and presses his nose to Henry's good leg, like he knows something is wrong. Henry opens his arms and I hug him around his crutches. There are still no tears. He strokes my hair once and kisses my forehead. I will always remember the scent of his wool clothes. "Don't ever forget who you are Adie," he says quietly in my ear. I look up and his eyes are wet but he's not crying either. I nod and look at Gretchen, she still has nothing to say to me, and so I say the words for her.

"Thanks for feeding me." She sniffs and looks away with a small shrug. I know that's all of a goodbye I'll get. I go down to one knee and hug Jack around his neck. I bury my face into his soft fur and stroke his ears. "Bye Jack," I say. He drops his head as if he actually understands and licks the tips of my fingers.

"Time to go," Ms. Handler says again and places a hand on my shoulder. I offer Henry one last smile. It's the best I can muster but it's still pathetic and we both know it because he gives me one in turn. I turn my back on them and walk out the door. The sun is preparing to set on the horizon and in the distance large fluffy clouds curl and reach toward space. A black expensive looking car sits parked in the road just in front of the house.