The Unbroken

XII

My eyes never stray from the digital clock of the DVD player, counting as twenty minutes slowly drag by, my mind reeling. The room has become even darker from the lack of lighting and the TV has shut off from the inactivity. The blank screen has decided to present me with my own messy face, reminding me of how much of an ugly crier I am. Yet again, I feel pathetic.

The tension in the room couldn't even be cut with a diamond chainsaw. All of my pain, anger and sorrow has leaked into the air, choking me with the thickness. My subtle whimpers are even depressing to listen to, mixing them with the heavy sobs and snotty sniffs is most definitely not glamorous.

I've managed to plug my phone in, I have some travelling to do and need it fully charged for the next few days. I have however also put it on silent, I need to keep myself as far away from the rest of the world as possible. I am not ready to be connected to such a shit show. My teeth are grinding so hard at what the world has done.

What were the God's even thinking? Stealing the lives of two good people that were trying to help the world, that weren't selfish and were constantly upbeat. It better have been worth it to them. I'm going to need a full essay on why this was a good idea.

I zone so far out that I don't notice the departure of the remaining time until there's a jingling in the door. Not a single concern finds its way to my mind nor body. I couldn't care less if it was a murderer coming to torment me, my mood would be enough to put them off. If it's a robber, they can take what they like, I couldn't give one.

However, the string of panicked curses is enough to reassure my non-existent worry of who is badly letting themselves in. No criminal, amateur or professional, would be foolish enough to drop their lock pick and curse at a volume that has the potential to wake the household they are attempting to sneak into.

About a year ago I gave Ollie and Car a spare key each for the days when they need a safe place to escape to if everyone is busy at the time. If I'm not here to greet them, they know to send me a message and let themselves in to disconnect from the rest of the town. Typically, I find them face down on their beds, snoring peacefully.

Footsteps reverberate down the hall, unsure feet searching the silence. There isn't a single sound being produced from the building, not a nook nor cranny.

I'd get up to greet him, but moving away from the corner of the couch I've curled into is not happening - I am content being a shuddering ball of tears. Maybe if I stay in this emotional hole for the rest of my life, or all of eternity, nothing else bad will happen. Not that there's much more that could go wrong, I'm an orphan with no other family other than those I've adopted. If something happens to them, I'm dragging the God's down from their homes and beating them with a wooden spoon.

Realistically, I know I can't cower forever. Those I adore most in the world need me, sometimes they wholly rely on me and I will never be able to bring myself to let them down. We made a pact to always be there for each other. I won't be the one to break it.

"Zoo zoo?" Oh, Lord, that's an old one. I don't think I've heard that since I was seven. "Living room." My voice shakes, and I despise myself for it.

"Babes?" She sits beside me, instantly suffocating me against her chest. It takes me a moment to figure out why she's here too; it's the weekend and date night, obviously he was at her place.

"What happened?" Ollie tugs her away a few inches in order to ease me out of the sofa's cushions to instead collapse against his shoulder. "Zoo zoo, talk to me." Admittedly, I've really missed that name, surprisingly. As children, it was the biggest comfort he could offer. Hearing it reminds me of the big brother he is inside. Just thinking off all the memories brings a quivering smile onto my lips.