whatever you have to do

pandastacia

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It was really interesting, she pondered, as she stared at her hands and the omnipotent liquid drops sliding between her fingers. She twisted her hands, watching as they seeped into the cracks in her skin. The moonlight reflected off it, hiding its dual nature in its light: that of life and death.

His shadow approached. He had to be yards away- tens of hundreds of them- but she had gained something during that split second when she had realized exactly what had happened and had denied fervently in her mind that it had actually happened. She had turned slightly and then- well, that was in the past.

And to think this had all been for him.

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They had all wanted him back. Probably still did. When he had run away, she had cried for days. They had been stony faced in their deceit and denial as they closed themselves off from the world, pretending to not care. But if someone like her peeked in through the crack in their doors, they would hear sobbing so wracking that for days afterward, they could speak hardly a word.

Yet they had done nothing.

It had hurt her to see them all like that. Despair and sadness were where joy and enthusiasm used to be. Reduced to such a pathetic state of existence, they slumped around until the outside world forgot about them. They now lived in the haunted house of the block, the place where everyone pointed to, but didn’t remember.

Sarah had been one of her friends. They played around outside together when they were seven and went to parties together when they were eighteen. That had been only last year. Now, Sarah didn’t even remember her. Never knew that they had met before. In the mind of her ex-friend, she was nonexistent. Didn’t remember that little girl who used to dare to do silly things like TP the high school and put music records on the intercom instead of the tedious end-of-class bell.

Maybe that’s why she had decided to do it. She wanted to go out into the daylight without feeling guilty that everyone else cooped themselves in the house. She wanted that glow of life he had given her. Given them all. She wanted to live in that sunny place Mother always had said the Good People go to. The way life had been before.

Sneaking out of the house had been easy. All she had to do was wait until it was day, when everyone else was asleep. Ever since he had left, they had forsaken the daylight for the moonlight, refusing to indulge in anything bright when their world was so dim. At the beginning, she had been the same: living for the day he would come back.

So she’d bring him back. At whatever the cost.

She’d only confessed her intentions to one person: Uncle Albert. He was a little out of it- had been long before he had left. Most likely, even before she had been born. Living in the attic surely had helped a little. All he had said after hearing her plan was, “Then we’ll count on you to bring him back. Do whatever you have to do.” Would they even notice she was missing? Probably not.

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An empty smile curled on her face as she gazed up at the stars. The moon was hidden by clouds now. Maybe it didn’t want to see the end. It would continue changing its faces, not knowing about one face there on earth that wished to see its otherworldly beauty just one more time.

Her fist pressed against her chest, she lifted it away from her, the sticky red liquid covering it entirely like paint. Coppery fumes flew on the sighing breeze as if lamenting the pain and suffering on that little patch of grass.

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Getting there was a little difficult. First she had to get on a ship going from Edinburgh to New York City. It had astounded her to go from that little town in Scotland to such a big city in the United States. From walking everywhere to suddenly needing a train to do so was a hard change to make. But that was the easiest leap in her journey.

Next, she had hopped from Tran to Tran, sneaking onboard since she had no money. The sense of exhilaration she got from not knowing exactly where she was going made it worth it. She experienced so much in the short time she spent simply riding the train, hoping to bump into him. Fortunately, she had found a small job in a little club so she could eat every meal as well as keep an eye out for him.

In her hands, she would constantly grip the postcard. He had always talked about going there. Even in those days in which he had just succeeded in something and they were all celebrating with a sip of champagne and expensive food. New York City was so different. Maybe that’s why he chose here. He wanted a world not connected to the one he had left.

She could understand fleeing, but why him? He was safe from the ignoring she was tainted with from day to day. No one but him ever bothered sparing her a glance. He had a secure future free from the tarnish she was soaked in constantly.

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She glanced at the young man kneeling next to her. A .22 caliber handgun was clenched in his right fist, shaking from the intensity of his emotion. Even in such a situation, she was so in tuned with him.

“Why’d they send you?” The words shook like an earthquake.

“They didn’t,” was her whispered response.

He glanced up in shock.

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She had seen him the tenth night at the club.

She had been at the front, wiping down the bar when the door opened. Glancing up, she first pushed her hair back from her eyes so she could see, but she was disappointed for the thousandth time to see a couple had flounced into the building. A sigh escaped her lips as she looked down, but out of her peripheral vision, she had seen a shadow behind them. Her head had shot up again.

It was him.

She had run up to him and was about to throw herself at him, hoping he would remember her. Hoping he’d hug her back. Wishing he’d tell her everything would be just like it used to be.

But it wasn’t to be. He’d seen her ecstatic voice and had assumed the worst. He dashed out the door and into the crowded street.

She was desperate. She was willing to admit it. Her feet had hurt from running all the way. Adrenaline had rushed through her That’s why she had elbowed her way through until they were no longer in New York City but in a rolling hilled area. “Brother!” she had gasped, having lost her breath running after him. That was when she heard the boom.

And felt the pain.

And the liquid pouring out of her- cascading like the Niagara Falls she had seen but this morning- in dangerous amounts as she fell on her knees onto the ground and grabbed at the thing in the grass.

And then he had been right by her, grabbing her left hand- the one that wasn’t clenched in a fist.

And he had asked her why- the indirect question being for her betrayal.

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“I’m sorry I had to do this.” His voice was soft and overflowing with grief. “Echo, I will kill anyone- do anything- to stay out of that house. Being the prodigy of that family has been killing me. They allow me no freedom. Remember that story you told me, about the bird whose wings were clipped daily so that it could never leave its master?” A ghost of a smile was on her face as she struggled with immense difficult to focus on him- the only light in a world that was going slowly dark.

“Then, the one day that the master trusted-.” She coughed out blood as she felt the hole from the bullet in her right lung causing blood to overflow her body. But she did continue on through the pain and agony that spiked with every fluctuation of air in her lungs. “Trusted it to be loyal and stopped clipping its wings. Of course it flew away. Somethings can’t be tamed. You know something?”

Blackness flooded her vision and she began to feel lightheaded. Focusing simply gave her a blinding headache, so she gave in to the feeling of the something important floating beyond her grasp. “At first, the reason I came was because I wanted to prove that I wasn’t weak. That I could do something useful and important. But you know what? It’s no longer about me. It’s about you and them. They’ve given up everything just for you. It’s the only reason they haven’t jumped off of the balcony yet- because you’re the reason for them living. But then there is something else I have to say.”

Her last breath swept out of her lungs with a gasp as her hands flopped on the grassy knoll, the right one releasing the small cylinder of metal from her grip. He bent over slightly, quickly enough to catch her last two words.

“I understand.”