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.
Rosie swings her leg over our laps, the other stretching around the back so she can encase the two of us, turning three into one. Where would I be without them?
"Mum and Dad were in a car accident. I need to go to Turndon to confirm their identities." Saying it out loud burns at my heart.
Rosie inhales sharply. Her head instantly thudding against my neck where her own tears trickle down to my chest. "Oh, My Baby..."
Her hand gently slides up my back, stroking deep soothing circles into the tense muscles to remove the ridges of huddling over in a fit of tears. Ollie manages to pull himself from the shocked daze to work on untying my hair, his fingers delving into the knotty mess to massage the scalp. Part of me wants to find it odd that they know just what to do to calm me down most efficiently, but then I also know the same facts for everyone one of us in the group.
The loving gestures help ease out the remaining cries catching on the little pride I have left. A few whimpers lead to almost choking then a lack of breathing, a few gasps are sprinkled into the mix to calm the hysterics.
"That's right. Let it all out. We've got you." The hand running along my spines vanishes to search over the side tables. She fumbles for a minute to exchange a handful of Kleenex for the fisted fingers I've conjured.
Our hands clasp together, soft lips pressing against my knuckles while her boyfriend places his to my forehead. I wonder why everyone reverts to their childlike self when breaking down. No one ever questions the matter, automatically caring like we're a fragile baby.
Neither of them ever try to move, remaining patiently seated until I make a signal that I'm ready to get up, instead they calmly guide me through an awful episode of heartbreak. I'm grateful that they don't try quieting my emotional turmoil from falling off of the edge, instead creating a landing pad to catch them with.
"Maybe you should go rest before heading off," He hums beside my ear, only to be met with a stern shake of my head that eradicates the notion.
By moving, I mess up my placement on his shoulder and trade it instead for the comfort of his neck, nuzzling as deep as possible. "I need to get it done as soon as possible, prolonging the inevitable will only hurt more. Besides, the Officer has already informed the morgue to expect us as soon as possible."
"Alright then, but don't you dare try pushing yourself too far right now." Ro's hand turns my chin to face her, smiling lovingly down to me. "How do you want to do this? Are both of us coming, or just Ollie? You can use my car if you want." She offers.
"I want to go on one of the bikes, I need the sense of freedom. The breeze always washes away my worries, completely blanking my mind. And I'm just going to take Ollie, if that's alright with the both of you?" I glance between them, lightly squeezing their hands. "Of course it is, Zoo zoo. Bijou, can you contact Mr Creighton if we aren't back in time for classes tomorrow? Oh, and speak to Chris later on for us. I don't want him getting pissy."
"Obviously." She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Right, first we're going to wash off your face. Then we'll get you changed and ready to set off. Osito, you're in charge of getting your gear out and packing some water." She claps her hands, shooing him into action. I love it when she takes charge.
As he scrambles off to to as told, she eases me to my feet, holding both of my hands. Gradually, we make it through to the hall where we face the challenge of the stairs. "Ok, hold on." She moves my grip onto the bannister.
With a bit of shuffling, she places my arm over her shoulder and her own around my waist. "One step at a time, Babes." We both know that if I go too fast my legs will slip out from beneath me.
Eventually, we get to the bathroom where she uses her extra height to lift me onto the counter beside the sink which she begins filling with warm water. I glance at myself in the mirror as she scours for a flannel. I've lost all colour in my cheeks again, a slight gloss twinkling over the top of my eyes. I look dead inside, which admittedly isn't far off.
The rag is tossed into the porcelain ditch, splashing the water onto my thigh a little. "Hey, don't pout. You look as beautiful as ever." She begins gently scrubbing away the drying salt trails and grim grease beneath my nose.
For a moment as she's staring into my eyes, her breath hitches upon finding something she apparently didn't want to. Her forefinger rubs under my lower lashes. "Listen to me, carefully. Don't let yourself become lost in these emotions and horrid times. In our world, if you give up, you lose a part of yourself. I've known you long enough to know you're stronger than this, and it is ok to be weak sometimes. But the minute you refuse to get back up, it will only become harder."
"What do you mean?" I sniff. "There's such a thing as The Broken in our world. They're the wolves that have faced something devastating in their lives and have lost hope." She swallows, brushing back some of my hair. "They're distinguishable by a glassy crack across their eyes. I don't know if you're just teary, but the glossy look is the start of that downfall."
"I'm not going to give up, Kitty." She grins at the name. I haven't used it in a long time. "My heart hurts, so so much. But you're right, you do know me, I won't stop trying."
"Damn right. You're the Queen of getting back on track after being knocked down." She titters.
She grips my hips when sliding me off of the counter top. Making our way through to my room, I plonk my arse down on the bed while she vanishes into my wardrobe. "You need something protective, right?" I don't vocally respond, causing her to pop her head out to find me shrugging.
"Normally you're fine in jeans, so these will definitely do. You've got a jacket anyway so the shirt doesn't really matter as long as it matches the trousers." I laugh at her deduction.
She reappears in front of me, nudging at my chin with her finger, realigning my eyeline. "Hey, look at me." I try to turn back to the random loose thread on my shorts. "No, Zoe, look."
Sighing, I raise my tear filled eyes. "You can cry for however long you need, we will hold your hand and rub your back. You can curl up into a ball and we will bring you sunlight, water and food. We will do whatever you need, you are our boss bitch. But getting yourself out of the slump and sorting out your emotions is your job. Life sucks, and it has committed a fucking crime by doing this, but they aren't going to want you wallowing in mourning and depression. Give yourself the days you need to scream, swear, and wail. But do not forget how to get back up."
She pats my back, kisses my forehead and saunters out of the room for me to get dressed. I listen to her bounce down the stairs where she meets Ollie, the two whisper, sniffling and coughing lightly. Shit, I'm being selfish.
Mum and Dad basically raised Oliver too. He has been crashing here at least twice a week for the last six years. They took him away from those gene donors that did nothing but bring him into this world and pathetically try to bring him up. His Mother and Father could only get about an hour of time with him before they exploded at each other once again. I understand it isn't easy for some people, but he was only their attempt to salvage a marriage so crumpled it is dust.
And how is Carter going to feel, Mum and Dad were his foster parents. They stepped in when he needed loving, and reassuring. When we were still in high school, Dad would insist on helping him with his homework when he could. I could have helped him, but he wanted to give him the memory of a father figure being there for him. Although she wasn't the chef in the family, Mum would cook meals for him to take home for him and his Mother so he wasn't spending his money on food and could focus on the bills instead.
They were Rosie's relief, the parents that said her best was good enough instead of pushing her further than she can manage. They were Jeremy's lawyers when he was discriminated against for his accent. They were the middle ground in Holly's parents' arguments after they divorced, they'd make sure they were taking her desires into account also. They housed Anthony until he found his own place after being kicked out, always offering a bed if he needed it. They funded Holly's phone bill so she could connect her parents at all times as they continue to travel the world.
They weren't just my parents. For all of my friends, they were surrogates to provide love, safety and comfort when in need. I need to take their place. Never once have I failed to be there for them, and it can't stand now. If I have to pick up where they left off, then I will.
Rosie's right, they wouldn't want me to become a shell of myself. I have to breathe, let myself mourn while continuing on.
Once dressed, I sniffle, wiping at the constant flow of tears while picking up some spare underwear, brush and toothbrushes to take on the trip. While sliding down the bannister I begin pulling my hair back into a plait to keep it controlled beneath a helmet.
"Babes?" Kitty pokes her head out of the kitchen, handing me an iced tea for a bit of energy to aid on the journey. Strong arms wrap around my waist while guzzling down the fluid that tickles my teeth, tooth sensitivity is a nightmare.
"How are you doing, Ollie? I know it must have hit you hard too." I swizzle in his arms, placing my forearms on his shoulders. "I'll be alright. I'm heartbroken, but I still have you. Mum and Dad may not be too good, but they love me enough for me to know. They're still there. You don't have that, and so I will hold up until I know you're going to be ok."
I sob, grinning brightly. As I jump up, his grip tightens, allowing me to hold on with my legs too. "Thank you, but you are my brother. You can hurt just as much as I do right now, you don't have to do all the heavy lifting of my emotions." I kiss his cheek, accepting the splash of his tears on my neck.
"I'll tell the group what happened. I'll take care of them, especially Carter while you're away. I know he's going to struggle too." Kitty rubs our backs. "I'm going to get some sleep, take care and keep me updated please." We each receive a peck. She then trudges up the stairs, exhausted.
Putting me down, he flicks my nose making it twitch. "Come on, Zoo." He leads the way to the garage, allowing me to grab my helmet off of the table. "Need the GPS?" He motions to the box collecting dust on the desk. "No, I know the way."
"Of course you do." I send a little glare over my shoulder as I'm wheeling Beast into the driveway.
He grabs his personal helmet from the box on the shelf. I bought him his own helmet for his last birthday since I drove him around a lot last year and ended up going on a few trips together. It made more sense than using the one I keep in my locker because I'd keep forgetting to put it back or pick it up.
As I'm hopping on, I hear the Bluetooth connect. For a moment, I'm proud since he always forgets to connect the headsets. I help ease him on behind me as we then shoot off onto the road, heading for the motorway. Sorry, neighbours.
Leaving my visor partially open allows the early morning breeze to blow into my face. The tears are knocked away, my eyes thankfully drying out slightly. Riding is about being free for me. The silence, the wind, the sensation of flying at a high speed as though nothing can touch me.
"How are you doing, Honey?" I call to him, feeling him sway. The poor lamb doesn't travel well. For anything more than twenty minutes, he gets restless or sick. We typically fill him with medication that allows him to sleep on long journeys.
"I'm alright. How about you?"
"I feel empty, numb. Hopeless comes to mind. I've become an orphan by losing some of the most important people in my life. I'm worried about what comes next. I could be homeless by the end of the week, they may not have made a plan." I mutter, earning a scoff. "You can't seriously believe that, Zoe. They knew the risks of travelling constantly. You got your forward thinking from both of them, I doubt they didn't have something arranged."
"But we can't be sure."
"No, but this is you we're talking about. You figure out some sort of plan for if it all goes tits up. You'll make it work." He lays his head on my shoulder blade.
"How much longer?" He groans. "We've been driving for less than ten minutes." I reply, settling into a comfy position. "You should sleep. You're tired and need to waste some time before you get ill."
"Maybe."
"Buckle in then, I'll find us a hotel when we're closer and wake you up." He doesn't respond but I notice the tugging of the belt I use when going on a long trip with him. It helps hold him in place so that I'm not taking the brunt of his body weight.
As we're gliding down the empty carriage way, I give in to the bothersome anxious thoughts telling me to plan for disaster. So, let's think strategically. If they had a plan, it would have covered all basic bases, meaning the company, the house, and the money. I'd just have to contact the back and their lawyer to make sure everything is legally binding and official. If they didn't it could mean a lot more difficulty.
The company and other officials have previously been made aware the company goes to me in any case of accident, passing or hand offs. Therefore, that is sorted and no one has the right to try taking it.
The house is private property. I guess it would go to a third person party. It could be bought off of me unless I can speak to Sheila about having her become the beneficiary and owning the family properties until I turn eighteen. Obviously I'd help pay for it since she won't just have the money lying around. Unless I have been made the inheritor which is more likely since I am the one who would come into the ownership but I wouldn't have access until I am eighteen. I'll add a note to look into that later.
I already know I am set to inherit all assets and bank accounts, my name is already on the paperwork for that. I was at the meeting when they needed to open a new account and went through all of them then.
Essentially, nothing is going to be impossible to rectify if a plan or will wasn't in place prior. I'll make it work.