The course of true love never did run smooth - A Midsummer Night's Dream
****
A tale of two lost souls brought together by pain, grief and trauma.
Atlas tries to find a place in a world he's worked so hard to escape. Elijah struggles to balance the...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
WE'RE CRAMMED TOGETHER in the kitchen around a small, cluttered table. Atlas is back in his chair, thoroughly agitated and pale. He has yet to look my way, hadn't even said a single word to me the whole time. Desiree and I sit side by side while Selena buzzes around the kitchen, her gun always just a reach away. She'd insisted on sitting down to have a "proper talk," but the longer we sit here, the more anxious I get. My leg bounces as I watch Selena. Desiree bites her nail nervously, and I feel bad for dragging her into this mess. The deal was to get in and get Atlas out, not have a cup of coffee with a gun-wielding girl in a plaid pyjama set.
Between Desiree and I, we somehow managed to help Atlas down the stairs, no thanks to Selena. She strutted cheerfully down the stairs in front of us, completely ignorant of our struggles. And it was no small feat. Atlas is a lot heavier than he looks. Without even the ability to hold himself upright, he was practically dead weight hanging between Desiree and me. By the time we reached the foot of the stairs, my shoulders were screaming, and Atlas was humiliated and pissed off.
He sits brooding at the head of the table, glaring at the wall to his left, refusing to look at anyone. I have to say, he looks like crap too. His skin is pale, his cheeks sunken, and there's no light in his usually warm eyes. It's as if he's barely had any sleep or sustenance. The only thing he's been living on is drugs that I'm certain about.
It breaks my heart to know that he relapsed.
I want to reach out to him and tell him it's okay that I'm not angry at him anymore. It'd be so easy to give in to my feelings, to let them govern my actions. I can pretend that this was an oversight, something to move past.
I don't.
He doesn't acknowledge my presence.
Selena shoves a mug of coffee in front of me, although I wouldn't call it coffee. More like muddied water with bits of dirt floating in it. She offers one to Desiree, who shakes her head with a flash of a polite smile. Atlas accepts his coffee almost desperately, and I try not to wince as he downs the brown liquid with animalistic thirst. I close my eyes. Now isn't the time to embarrass him further. I want him to come home, not push him away.
"So," Selena sighs, plopping into the only available chair. She reclines back, resting the gun on the table in front of her. I don't know why she needs it, but it does create an unsettling effect. No one at the table is about to dispute that she's the one in charge. "You're pretty brave coming here, Elijah. You're lucky Jason isn't here or, oof, you'd be dead meat, brother."
"I came to get Atlas," I say. It's a wonder that my voice sounds as strong as it considering I feel like peeing myself again. "His sister is worried sick, and I promised I'd find him. It has nothing to do with Dan's issues with Jason. Please, let me take him home."
Selena purses her lips in a frown. She reminds me of a doll, with her big eyes, round cheeks, and heartshaped lips. A doll with a gun... perfect. "But it does have everything to do with "Dan's issues with Jason" as you like to say." She rests her elbows on the table, pushing herself forward. "We need... collateral in case you decide to skip town or some shit. You are Dan's brother, after all. We can't be too careful."
