excerpt from 'emmanuelle'

so, pretty much here is a small piece of one chapter of a book I'm working on. I'm not posting the whole chapter, that'd be faaaarrr to much, just giving you about a tiny bit of it. My trouble, as I am told, comes to grammar and commas. Now, I just want to know what y'all think of this. The plot is a Romeo and Juliet-based one. A war, lovers on separate sides. That sorta thing. Side note, Emmy's appearance was based off Keira Knightley's =]

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The bitter chill of winter’s air possessed the temperature of her body. Through the thickness of the night she carried out the breath of tainted innocence. Her hand wrapped around a glass bottle, cradling it by her bosom. A laugh, a cry, a sheer thrill of drunkenness emanated throughout the star-painted skies, as her lips met the rim, sucking down the burning substance, which tingled her tongue, down towards her throat. It was an addiction; with the painful shadows of the liquid she so very lusted for during every, or so hour she breathed, a harmful disaster tortured her soul.

“Night sky… Goodnight. Ohhh bugger.”

She twirled around, extending her arms in what seemed ecstasy, letting herself weigh back, landing aligned with the snow. She swallowed whisky again, through a scoff. “Snow… So Cold. Oh God where’s Cole? Cooooolllleeeh!” Her mind had been cleared of all inhibition. Memory had circuited out for the young lass had absolutely no trace of what had happened just few hours before. “Rawr. Where’s Cole?” A throb stung the back of her mouth as she yelled out a few times in the longing to find her son. She lay, even so, in the snow with her words lashing from her mouth. “Cole!”

“Emmaunelle!” Quivered in fear of the shock with his lover’s appearance arms shot down to cradle the woman. “Oh, God, Emmy… “ His touch was rough, yet caring with concern. He only loved her more than ginger actions could defy. Her skin was ice, her body pale: he feared her death. As he lifted her from the ground, pulling her torso to his chest, she attempted to pull away. The drugged head caused her to have not a true reaction to Erik’s presence. With her screaming tears he brought his palm to her hair, smoothing at the strands tangled with snow. “Emmy, shhh. Em, it’s me.” His lips met her cheek for a moment while sympathy dwelled. “What’s become of you, love?”

Emmanuelle, despite his soft words and cooing touch, let nothing of it relieve her. What she knew Erik was near, her tears kept down her cheeks. Only for a few moments before her breath took a lap, her mind managed to recall words. “Nothing has become of me, Erik!” Harshness, all she could do to masquerade the intense pain devouring her heart. It had been so long since the two had held one another, joy of seeing him once again morphed to pure hatred. “Just let go of me… Leave me be.” Her quivering palms pressed against his chest; pushed leaned back yet her cradled her back and pulled her closer. It would be only in the world for him to let her go again, at the place where she seemed too ill and afraid. Years much younger than he, he wanted to protect her as if his child; his child, his biological child, like his lover he needed to be so fatherly over. Nonetheless, with all the love he possessed for Em, his dislikes for her motherly way took toll as his hands pressed tight against her head, against his collarbone, something inside of him wanted to shake her—something he would never dare dream of doing but she was so drunk, he could tell, and the presence of his son was unknown.

“Where’s Cole?”

“…Erik.”

“Emmanuelle, where is Cole?” His hands had wandered, ever so tentatively down her upper arms, extending out for his eyes so scan her gaunt face. To lock his gaze with hers would be far too difficult; he couldn’t take the pain he knew bred in the poisoned caverns of her soul: deep, dark, evil, Erik needed her to stay pure yet for a reason or another he wanted her to convert from her alliance to his. Death would tag if not, he was positive of that. “Emmanuelle! Tell me where Cole is!” She, however, refused to respond on that matter, her mindset had chained to the relationship dangling in dangers of depression tears, dying for they hardly saw one another. “Emmanuelle… Emmy…”

“You were gone…. For so long. So long, Erik, I can’t handle it.”

“But you know we mustn’t be together, Em, not as long as the war is still alive. You need to stay strong, love, for me… For Cole, for yourself now, whe—“

“It doesn’t matter, Erik… I want to die; I can’t handle this. Too long, you were gone too long!” The virtue, of having so long kept a free mind of attempting to work this relationship out, set sail for nothing of wanting suicide through drugs. “I can’t do it anymore, I’ve tried but I—I can’t, I won’t.”

“For Cole! Where is he, Emmy?” His lips softly touched her forehead, a cause to send more depression down her cheeks. “Can you do that for me? Please? Tell me where Cole is, love, I need to see my son—I need to know he’s safe.” Yet with his mouth meeting her face, each section, again and again her interpretation of his words were nothing of true meaning. She, with a gasp of tears, placed her palms against his neck as she struggled to become free as she had done before. “Emmy…My darling, please… Where is he?”

“Y-you think I’m a bad mother, don’t you, Erik!” Frantic with words, emanating from her throat in tones of sharpness, shattered with a painful fear, she could not but quiver in reply of the winter’s breath for she wore nothing put a tank and her tattered denim skirt; adoring her thighs a black tights, ending by her knees. “I know you do, everybody does…! I hear them talking, they talk… They talk so much, about how I changed… You think I’m a bad mother, you think I am….” He left her arms dangling over his shoulder as the other ran down her spine, in a caring caress, he wanted nothing more than to hush her at the moment, for if another were to hear, the long, thought out plan of life—to continue on in a clandestine romance, detailing the endeavor of escaping reality— would simply perish, both lives of Emmanuelle and Erik’s, as well as their darling little boy, would be put at risk for death, or torture... God forbid his leader use her as a weapon in blackmail to conquer the war. A secret, kept by passion yet so difficult, so very depressing in where the young lass could take it no more. “Oh, God, Erik, you were gone for so long. I can’t do this…. Just let me… Just let me please—“

“No.”

“But I can’t do it anymore. For so long I have held on to what little hope I’ve summoned, yet there is nothing left… Ohh, tell me Erik, when was the next time you were planning on coming back for me? You know you just found me here—“

“I’m lucky I did.”

“Or what? I would have frozen to death?! My Erik, my sweet, loving Erik if only that were true… I can’t do this anymore, it’s just not going to happen, I can’t let it.” The child managed to push herself up to a stronger position, defying the slouch her back had been crumpling into. He, nonetheless, had become in a frenzy with mixed emotion, tangled through the tears producing down his face from eyes, which carried an empathy so lusting to differ. A short silence lingered, and in it Erik pressed his body against hers the hand once over her shoulder tangled in the ginger locks. He knew the dear had quite the load of difficulties, her problems with self and drug abuse, the depression from so many years of trauma; his longing for events to lighten in measurement of agony bred from his heart as his lips met her once again to seize her words. But she was resistant in his comfort. Years younger, yet with a maturity of deception she could hardly figure the true contemplation of a point to continue on in life.

“What about our plan?”

“I’ll be dead before the war is over, I know it.”

“Do not—“

“I do, I’ll be murdered. Your alliance is stronger than mine. You’re winning. I’ll be killed because I love you; they will learn, we cannot keep our secret for long… They will learn who Cole’s dad is—“

“Where is he, Em?”

“I don’t know… I can’t remember.”

“Goddammit, Emmanuelle!” She pushed her away, with the anger burning he had attempted to keep at bay. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Whisper of harshness, she had nothing but a cry for what he had yelled; it grew out of his control, a regret stood strong as he grabbed her wrists, pulling her close. “No, Em, I didn’t you just… You need to get things together. Now stop that, you know I hate seeing you cry.”

A frown.

More tears.

“Emmanuelle stop. Don’t do this to me, Em.”

“You think I’m a bad mother… But I can’t, I just—Why live?”

“For Cole, live for Cole. Live for me! Fuck it, Em, try and remember where the Hell he is!” Her cheek was cupped in his hand, her neck tilted. She closed her eyes as her chest knotted with a breath of a coughing lung. “Emmy… You need to stop it all. Stop what you do, all these drugs—I swear once the war is over I’ll help you… But look what it is doing to you, dear: you can’t remember where your son is, your voice is nothing but a wispy croak—take a breath for me, Em, and listen yourself. You’re dying.”

“That’s what I want…”

“Slowly, you’re dying. You are getting sick, I don’t want that… “ His breath touched her strands, with nose face buried deep within the ginger, of smelling cigarette ash: nothing of how a young girl’s would smell of roses and lilies. He couldn’t seem to contemplate how his lover transformed to this at first reminisce his mind painted of a healthy child, hair full conditioned, smelling of gardens. A body so perfect in weight and beauty yet now she lived nothing but a skeleton with stringy locks of smoke. Emaciated of lack of nourishment, fat devoured by starvation, albeit satiated chained to deception of cigarettes. “Suicide is not the rout, doll, just stay alive. Strong, stop the drugs.”

“It’s gotten to a point where I can’t. I need them, oh God, I need more and I can’t feel anything. I’ll die in the cold out here tonight… Now. Oh, God, forgive me please, for everything. If I die tonight let me be in Heaven… if there is.” She leaned back, with arms outstretched as if in ecstasy, with frozen flakes shivering softly through the sky; weighed in with the late-night darkness of lust. “But, ohh, how great would death be… To never feel at all. To never have to peruse heartbreak, pain—anything. To just have nothingness, yet it wouldn’t be felt because there would just be—nothing. How great, oh I want that, I need that I—“

“Emmanuelle, stop it!”

“But why stop it Erik?” She had queried, brining her arms back down to wrap around her own self in dedication to warmth. “Do you not see that you too have caused much pain in my life? Without you I’m not whole, you’ve been gone too long… And with that, I regret ever loving you. It’s too painful, too difficult. I, myself, have no limit of horror… Horror of losing you!”

“I would never leave you, Em…”

“But, oh, it’s so much like that! You love me: I love you… Yet we can only see one another rarely… It is every so often a gal should see her man, isn’t it?”

“In a normal relationship yes. Emmy, we don’t have that.”

“We are not supposed to be together. Society bans it and yet they expect it.”

“What?”

“Wouldn’t it be? The most desired is always forbidden—And for that I can stand it no longer!”

“Stand what, love? You are making no sense…”

“Love.”

“Love?”

“Yes, love. I can’t stand loving you any longer. It’s too, too, too agonizing.” A long silence held, in which Erik made no attempts to retaliate in his own defense, she seemed quite sure of herself in that she would deny all feelings to want abandonment in prevention of pain. “I do love you, I love you more than anything but not seeing you is slowly murdering me… Murdering me yet as if I am immortal… I wallow in the darkness of my longing for you, banished from seeing you. Don’t you see it? Can’t you understand?!… We are dying hope. Our love… Our love is nothing— nothing, and it will always be nothing because it isn’t allowed to be anything! I want you Erik, I need you more than anything but if I cannot have you, if I have to keep it all a secret well then I really… I just can’t! I won’t want you, I’ll refuse it to myself. Like I’ve had to pretend.” He pulled her closer; a tightness in his chest had birthed yet crying would only cause matters to suicide if not worse. Strength for his Em, he knew was mandatory. “And it’s all so… So scary, Er… Erik. I’m frightened of losing you. I can’t, I won’t… Oh God I want to die so I never have to have that painful ache in my heart with news of a possible death for you. Do you not feel the same way about moi? If you could have anything, one wish, in the world you wanted what would it be? I’m guessing it would be—“

“That you would never die. No matter what. That I’d die in place of you, to save you, to save Cole…”

“No, not for us to be together? That it would be allowed and—“

“Emmy, no. Of course I’d want us to be together but that is not specific enough. Darling, understand that maybe one day we’ll be allowed together yet some would still be against it and we could be sent to death.”

“…Sent to d-death? What are you saying?” A cock of her head to the side, face painting the picture of a child with hazels sad-eyed. She seemed quite curious to boot, with her hands quiver so like her lips in a way that she almost seemed naïve and frightened. “Get killed, suicide, we die…. What, not in love with that theory?”

“No, Em, no. You have no been so involved in the war you hardly know what you’re saying.” Heaved a sigh, g

ot on one knee, palms clutching her upper arms. “If we—“

“’Course you’d be more involved in the war, you’re like… Right up there with your side an’ all. Totally in with defeating my alliance. Yeah, you could just about be one of the most wanted for—“

“No, listen. Deviousness is a key trick to defeating.”

“No shit, Erik.”

“I’m not finished, my dear. For the first few months, just a small period of time, both parties may act as if accepting our romance. However, later on the truth response will come forth and we will be sent to death.”

“Is that what this is?” She pulled away, jumping to her feet, nearly falling over. “Do you not really love me are you tricking me to lure me into death?”

“Oh cut the fucking drama. You know very well what I mean.” His words were sharp, what with the love he had for Em only made it so. The man loved his girl more than anything in the God given world, yet with the existence of his son. Her stream of thoughts to believe his betrayal stole his heart and burned it with all hatred. “Sweetheart, I would never lure you to death, my love isn’t fake—

“And that is just what you want me. To. Think. This fucking clandestine relationship was all bullshit, wasn’t it?” She pulled away, her tears burning the corners of those hazel looking-glasses coiled with the thick mascara and black eyeliner painted grubbily under her eyes; with the retina throbbing for what she thought would death in blindness. A pain, one, which stressed her whole body, soul and exterior, caused her to keel over, the lass fortunate for her lover to catch her in his arms. “Then kill me now, Er. Kill me now if that’s what you plan to do because I can' stand this at all—Eight letters, three words to form the most painful lie I’ve ever heard, you’ve ever told me! No more, please no more—“

“No more of your bad thoughts, baby,” he breathed, falling back in the snow in a sitting position with the girl in his lap. The ice of the snow freezing through his pants yet his mind danced on his friend’s cries. “I promise you this is no trap. Your habit of rushing to conclusions has caused too much. You must listen first, my love, please listen. Hush. I swear I’ll never let you die. What I meant was for a while the beings—the people on my alliance and yours—may pretend to accept our relationship—“

“And why shouldn’t they… Oh God, they so should because it’s, like, why can we be the only ones

who realize that love and relationship and people, the being, the personality is stronger and bigger than the association, the side… Erik, Erik, ohhh Jesus. I hate this so much.”

“No, shush. Shhh.” He put his finger to her lips as he attempted to continue in his supposition. “They will pretend. They may agree on this small trick because we could be a threat to changing the beliefs that have been so for years and years….” Her gaze into his eyes fed him the information of her intake of this knowledge; the comprehension of this small wonder of what may happen in the future. “…And years.”

“That we are going against the law, that we love one another. They could, like, make us think that, that it’s okay and they accept us and everything. But, truly, they don’t. And they’ll kill us because we’re a threat.”

“You understand now, don’t you?”

“Not fully, Erik, dear. For, for how could just we be a threat? The world is so big and we’re just two people… How can, how can we matter?”

“That’s the only flaw in this, Emmanuelle. We are just two people. But this is just a thought, don’t take it for what will be. Only a little theory, Ems. So don’t work yourself up. Just be aware that it could happen.” Yet with his words stirred optimism in her mind. Those poor little eyes, which had always been haunted and hollow lit up with a small effervesce hope. Her hands clutched his wrists with her smile cloning his.

“What if we could change it! We, we the two of us, changed it all. Stopped the war. We made a difference!”

“… Where’s Cole?”

“Why must you change the subject, Erik! You do this so much I assume you will bash every ounce of faith I dream up?”

“No, Em, I just worry about my son.”

“Because you think I’m a bad mother!”

“No, not with that again, ‘Elle.”

“You do, you do, you do!!”

“Emmanuellllllllle. Darling, no, no. All I want is for the three of us to be together, just for a bit. I want to see you and him together, the two people I love most in the world. I want to know the pair of you are both safe. Emmanuelle, where are you staying? As of now where do you and Cole live? ” There was a moment of silence. Of shame to pride around with its beaming color of cherry upon her cheeks, in only to make her eyes well tears.

“No where.”

“No where?”

“We haven’t a home.”

“You haven’t a home?”

“No home. Not at all…. Don’t repeat me, you know I despise that. And yes, homeless for the time. Last place we lived we were kicked out of—“

“Oh, Em, why?!”

“—Because the woman thought I was a bad influence on her kiddies. No, that was the home before…”

“What?”

“The home Cole and I lived in before, we lived with this darling, sweet woman with three kids of her own. Oh, it was such a cliché, happy, warm home. But after I came home late again after a while, all drunk, and her younger daughter, Marley, found coke in my room she said I couldn’t stay anymore. She wanted to keep Cole but—“

“Is that where he is? Oh, please tell me he is, Emmy. I’ll know he’s safe there…”

“Nuh-uh, he ain’t.”

“Isn’t.”

“Yeah, that. So she wanted to keep Cole there with her ‘cause she said I wasn’t a capable mum an’ all. But I yelled back at her, threw quite a fit. I explained the kid was my son and I left. That’s it.”

“That’s all?”

“I hit her, maybe.”

“You hit her? Emmy, please tell me you’re just saying that. I know you’re not a child anymore, you know not to.”

“I was drunk.”

“You need to stop this. What if you become intoxicated again and hurt our son?”

“I won’t. I’ll never.”

“You just might, Emmanuelle. One can never know. Please try and stop your bad habits. For me, for Cole? I don’t want to lose you, Emmy! God knows one day an overdose might take you from me, or your lungs collapse and bleed to death from nicotine and smoke. Please, go clean, please. I can’t risk losing you.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s my goal in life. To die. How does that sounds? Ahaha, a goal in life to die! An’ f’I die you can take care of Cole. Yeah, he’ll be better off with his daddy…"

“He’ll be better off with us both together. But you must let me know where he is right now, doll. Try and remember, can you do that?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause I can’t remember.”

“Yes you can, I know you can.” His fingers grasped her arms in what seemed to be as clinging on to dear life itself. A tenacious survivor he so seemed to be with the love of his life, a fallen doll, so helplessly leaving him in her denial of faith. “Tell me you can, Emmanuelle. Be strong, tell me you can!”

“I can’t.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t! Erik, I’m so sorry for letting you down. I am, I’m a horrid person in my own ways. I can’t remember where my own kid is. I can’t… I really can’t. Oh, God, what if he’s hurt!?!?! It’d be all my fault. All my fault for being such a whore.”

“Don’t call yourself that, Em. You are nothing of a, a prostitute. Emmanuelle, come see, everything will be fine. We will find Cole and—“

“No, but I am. It’s how I earn my keep. How I keep Cole’s little tummy full on most nights. How I can assure he’ll be able to wake up the next morning and satiate that little grumble in his belly. But you see, it has gotten me in a spot. A tough one, in which I have left him somewhere unguided so I could go off and ‘sleep’ to feed him yet have no recollection of where he was placed. ‘Cause of all these drugs I’m so stupid and brain dead. I’m no moron, Er, I realize this shit is harming me. But I need it all so, so much. I can’t go on without it.” Through her concise monologue the man mirrored upon the irony of the negligibility theme of the piece. Yet with her explanation so short with the matter so large he couldn’t help but let his eyes shut for a moment with the intake of the information. Straight out, the fact of the child selling her own self had not quite fazed him. Chenoweth was quite gorgeous, though with her body far too learn and her skills with love brought him to a wonder. She seemed more than capable, willing if must, in her personality type, to do such a thing. Erik knew it all possible but anger towards her would only petrify the delicate situation. With a stone face, a masquerade of bravery covering the fear of Cole’s misplacement, Emmy’s love pulled her closer and gave her his lips to the top of her head. “I’m a bloody whore.”

“No, no, you are not. I swear we’ll find our little boy. I promise you we will find him.”

“You don’t hate me for making my money this way?”

“Honestly, I’d rather you have a job, which doesn’t defy your dignity, Em. I would much rather you have a safer job where the risk of catching a disease or being beaten wasn’t prominent. Nonetheless I cannot stop you from prostituting for if it is how you make money for Cole, if it were the only way you feel secure… Oh, I have no idea but that isn’t the important matter now. Finding Cole is it now.”

“We shouldn’t. If we’re seen together, Erik. It’ll be over.”

“True that, my love. But Cole is more important. If it is needed we could act. Pretend we don’t know one another or we were fighting.”

“And if this does so happen, per se, that matter would only be to deceive them yet they’d know we were doing so… They would, ‘cause why would two people who don’t know one another be walking ‘round in the snow at such a late hour?”

“Intricate point, my love, but we’ll only cross that bridge if we come to it. For now we must search for Cole, savvy?”

Her response was twin with a laugh and her hand covered her mouth. “Savvy.” He drew her close, with his lips touching her cheek roughly. Her smile seemed enough to mend every single predicament brought upon on earth; in the bad ways and good, Erik knew she would be there to comfort the longing pain in his heart. For nothing else mattered, it seemed at that one second, when her lips curled up. All would be fine, is what it seemed to bring. Yet a second, a moment of her smiled faded as the dilemma of the missing child swung back into action.

“Last thing you remember, Em, where is he?”

“I told you once before I do not know, I cannot remember. Oh, it troubles me to be such a bad mother I—“

“You are not.”

“We’ve fought about this before, Erik. We’ve drawn to the conclusion that I am. I’m a bad mum. It’s right there, plain. Black and white. My son is somewhere out there in the cold, unforgiving world… And all because I left him alone. I can’t remember… I just can’t.” His eyes captured hers on her way down to a glance at the ground. He wouldn’t let her feel ashamed, no. Something as that would bring up more reason for her to lust suicide: an easy escape from agony of self doubt and hate. “Please don’t hate me, Erik… I can’t have you hating me.”

“I could never hate you, Em,” a whisper of assurance to comfort the girl. Even so, he realized a girl of her age was far too young to be a mother. His fault, he knew. Years back a lover of twenty-three sharing passion with a teen, fifteen. “Don’t you ever think for once that I’d have an ounce of hate. I love you, I love you more than words can explain. Whether or not you’re responsible ways are up to par or not, I still love you.”

“So you admit it! I’m a bad mum.”

“No, no… You just aren’t old enough.”

“What?”

“Em, darling, you were just too young when you became pregnant.”

The top of the child’s lip curled over the bottom; confusion as the face of a puppy’s with that sad-eyed gaze.

“That doesn’t mean anything, Erik, love. Not a thing.. Just because of my age? Oh, it isn’t like that at all. My darling, how could you think a thing such as this?”

“Only because it is true, Emmanuelle.” He sighed, his head bowing in a wrap of his own mistakes with nothing but pure regret for being the flaw in his darling’s life. “Fifteen is not the proper age to become pregnant…. Nor is it to be in love with a man nine years elder.”

“What are you saying? That we shouldn’t be together?!”

“No. No, I’m not saying that at all, Emmy-dear. I meant to say that… That,” he moved back to his knees, clutching her shoulders as a deep gaze locked between them. “I was wrong. I took you on too far. But I loved you so much….”

“And I was so willing. But, Erik, that is only because I love you more than anything. Age should not be a barrier of passion.”

“No, it shouldn’t. But I was twenty-three, ‘Elle, and you were just a kid. It wasn’t right.”

“But now it is because I’m older….”

“As am I.”

“No, but, like… We’re both in the twenties, nearing the twenties. It’s almost my birthday.”

“I know.” He kissed her forehead. “Happy almost birthday, love. You must see it as I’m not telling you we shouldn’t be together, but more of I shouldn’t have taken you so far then. I should have waited.”

“But we loved one another, baby, that’s all that matters. ‘Cause, Er, you know I don’t care about the age difference. I see it as nothing… But—“

“I ruined your life nonetheless, Hon. No, no, no don’t say I didn’t. Because—“

“Because you didn’t,” she interrupted. “You did no such thing. So what? I got preggers, it doesn’t matter at all! Yeah, things changed drastically but that doesn’t mean ruined. Erik, like you told me before, you—we must stay positive.”

“You never went to college.”

“I hardly finished high school.”

“See?”

“Hardly, I said. I graduated. Or sort of. But oh, does it matter? I wouldn’t have been able to do anything with this war. People make decisions in life, whether or not it’s for the better of the whole picture, but nonetheless what they want. This is what I wanted. I wanted you! I know things are bad, really bad, and sometimes I just want to slit my wrists and have that be the end of it but… But I love you. I love you and no matter how much I want to die it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Maybe if we never met I wouldn’t be trapped in this addiction and depression… Perhaps, perhaps I would have been he healthier and, if it worked out, in college…” Her voice became a muffle held back with a choke of tears and moans. “But, but I couldn’t be happier… Even though not so great things followed Cole’s birth, I wouldn’t have changed anything if I got a chance to go back in time.”

“Oh, Emmy. You’re darling-sweet, my love. But you know things would have bee—“

“Shh, I know.” She put her fragile hand, shaking with the icy air, over his mouth. “But we have each other.” His arms moved around her neck as his body slid closer, with her weight giving way to his chest. Her wrists under crossed one another arms her embrace around him became tight. Locked, twisted together in a romance of promised loyalty. Sworn in secrecy. “I love you.” A touch of fondness, a fervent contact of the lips.

“Love you too, ‘Elle. More than you could imagine. But for now, we must fine Cole, love… then you must rest. You are falling ill I can’t have you die.”

“I won’t die… I’ll hang on for you, I swear.”

“For Cole.”

“For you.”

“Ailing, you are, my angel. Please hang on for both your son and his father. Even if you want to die, don’t. If we aren’t together, if you’re alone with Cole… If you die, my dear, he’ll be left alone. I may be millions of miles away; just so far, the little kid could be kidnapped or murdered… He could just die.”

“I know… I know and that’s why right now I’m starting to worry even more. Because I never realized that and he could be in so much danger right now… Oh, God, what if he’s dead?” She fell a bit, letting herself slide down, yet Erik held her up, kissing her jaw line.

“Darling, hush. Worrying is partly good, but you mustn’t over do it. Calm down and we’ll find him. Now.” He helped her to stand, those delicate wrists clutched in his warm hands. “Try and think, where was the last time you saw Cole.” The struggle to answer seemed beyond what Em could candle. Her eyes were tearful as her entire body shook. He released one grip, brining his calm to her cheek. “It’s okay, Emmanuelle, just breath deeply. This is an important matter but if it is needed take your time.”

“This situation is far too dire… I’m fretful of what may happen to him. I can’t calm down; we can’t take our time… If he’s dead… If he’s dead, oh, t’will be my fault. ‘Cause I’m a bad mum. Bad, bad, bad mum.”

“No, no, Emmy. Please don’t put yourself down like that. You’re an incredible person…”

“But a bad mother.”

“Giving birth at fifteen. I wish I could have been there for Cole’s birth.”

“I needed you…”

“But you couldn’t have me.… You had to be there, in the hospital without me.”

“No one was with me…”

“Not even your aunt?”

“Great aunt. And not even… Not even Kazlen or her mum… Well, they were there after. After Cole came… The doctor called them, he had asked if I knew where the dad was… I said no. Then he asked for any living relatives. Of course I hate my great aunt so I told them about my cousin and her mum. But Marilyn hates me now, she thinks I’m a bad influence on her daughter, well back then she didn’t, thankfully… I hated it. I wanted you.”

“I know, darling. I know.” His arms wrapped around her back, causing her to fall forward into his chest, her legs as jell-o. “And I can’t forgive myself. Or God for placing us on such different sides.”

“I wish we could be on one alliance… But I could never betray my side. Nor you. Oh, God, I hate this. Erik, I hate hiding our love. It’s too, too painful. I love you all too much and I despise the fact that our relationship is not accepted. It’s just stupid!” She balanced herself to a stance before pushing her palms against his chest in anger. “It’s fucked up!”

“Emmy…”

“It’s retarded! I fucking hate this damn life and it’s just too, too—“ Interjection of the girl with a strong lock of the lips. His hands squeezed her shoulders and he breathed deeply as she pulled her mouth away in tears. “I… I… I’m just so afraid.”

“Resentful of the law… We both are. But you must remain bold. Don’t let it get you.”

“It already has… Bluntly.”

“Then let it no more,” he whispered.

“But how can I not let it Erik? It’s life; it’s my life… It’s everybody’s life!” Moan of lost faith, shivering from the chilled air with her bare arms thin and pale, altering purple from the lack of iron in her blood. “…Cole’s going to die and it’s all my fault! Oh, shit… Oh, God… No, I can’t even think.”

“No, Emmanuelle, calm down, doll.” He kissed her neck but she pushed him away. “We’ll find him. But you need to calm down! If you become all worked up you definitely won’t remember where you last had him!”

“I’m trying to remember but I can’t!” Harsh, her tone penetrated the silence of the night. Her arm was held out in defense to any movement he might have made to allay her. “Don’t you even try and make me feel better, don’t try and hush me, don’t say it will be okay because it won’t, Erik! It just won’t!” Her forearms moved to shield her face, blocking the view of her tears; while at the same time she dropped her knees to a squat. “Nothing’s ever okay… Not anymore.”

“Oh, Em…” Erik kneeled beside her, wrapping his arms around her balled up figure. He pulled her close and while so ran his fingers through her hair. “But it will, you must see that. I..” he closed his mouth, unable to continue, letting jaw drop once more before it shut. He just allowed her muffled cries to land in his chest while her head pillowed his chin. “We’ll find him. I swear.”

“…I’m a bad mother… I’m a bad girlfriend.. I’m a bad person… The world is bad.”

“No, no…” Yet he realized there was absolutely nothing to be done to change her mind, to emblazon the ordeal—it was far from impossible. Emmanuelle had indulged her own self in such hate and misery that all good seemed an illusion intangible to any contact whatsoever. The man’s abhorrent feelings of her self-detestation caused a great alter in his heart; so deep, so painful. Em hated herself; it nearly killed him. “Baby, I’m here. I’m here… It’s okay to cry. It’s okay, I’m here. I’ll always be here… Even if we’re apart I’ll be there in your heart. I swear, Emmanuelle, no matter what. And one day we’ll be allowed to love. We’ll have children and a garden…everything you want. We’ll be a classic little family with a white picket fence.” He gave a small smile, his words of an archetypal home, family, and life setting off a miniscule grin to play across the girl’s face. She peeked up at him from the small nest of her arms and his chest.

“You’re far too cliché, Erik… But that would be wonderful.” She sniffed, brining teensy firsts up to rub away own tears.

“Two Children, boy and girl: Cole will have a little sister—“

“Amaryllis!”

“Cole and Amaryllis, our two children. Of course there needs to be a dog. With our big white house and picket fence.” They both laughed. Knowing this probably just a fantasy. Yet one to live off of.

“I want to name our dog Shani. And it has to be a… A… What’s that kind? Like a Lassie dog but little.”

“A Lassie dog?”

“Like a little Collie… Uh, uh… A…”

“Oh, a Sheltie!”

“Yes, a Sheltie! And, and…”

“And what?” He helped her to a stance so the two were squatted at level. Touching his nose to hers, he smiled, forehead aligned too.

“And….ah,” his tickle of her ribcage caused her to laugh, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him down against the snow. Her body light with her starvation atop his. “I actually want a husky.”

“A husky? Well, oh well, we can have both. What will we name the husky.”

“Um. Inbal.”

“Inbal?”

“Yes Inbal!” She kissed him as his arms spread out against the snow. “And we’ll have a really, really big bed with a large, white, puffy comforter… And, and… “

“Thinking about our bed, are you now, dear?”

“Mmhmm, I am. And know what else I’m thinking.”

“Oh, I’m sure I do, Em!” He moved his arms to wrap around her. “And you’re building my lust!”

“But we can’t, can we?”

“Not out in the snow.”

“It will be so romantic! Would it not? And, no one is around… “

“Out in the snow, could you imagine? Ha, gorgeous Emmanuelle, it’d just freeze. If we froze together?”

“It couldn’t happen but it’d be fun! And no worries for that, sweetness, I’d warm you.”

“Oh, you would, would you?” She nodded, they kissed again between giggles and playful scoffs. He ran his hand down her spine time after time .

“Mmmhmm. I would…” She paused a moment. “I change my mind again, I want a Dachshund

He looked at her for a few moments, a smirk crossing his lips. “Is that some kind of line? You are rather perverted, my little Emmy.”

“What? Oh, Erik! NO!! I meant a dog. Wait, what did you think I—ohh. Well, I do!” She laughed, moved her body up and planting a kiss on his forehead. “But you see, you are the perverted one. Because I didn’t think of a dog like that.”

“It is nicknamed a wiener-dog!”

“Haha. Well, in that case I do want your Dachshund. But as well as the real kind!” They both laugh again, Erik brought one hand up to ruffle her locks. “Can we have three dogs?”

“As many as you want.”

“Does that mean I can have as many Dachshunds as I want?”

“Oh, God, Emmanuelle, your mind is too tainted!” He held her close, rolling over so he lay above her, keeping his weight level as not to crush her demure structure. “No, you can only have one: mine.”

“But I’m a whore…it’s my job. No fair!”

“You won’t be. Not after the war. You’ll have a proper job and I’ll protect you.” His lips met her forehead. “I promise I won’t let anything harm you… And I’ll help you heal and get over your addictions. You’ll be better… I’ll be there with you every step of the way to changing.”

“’Cause I’m just an emo bitch whore.”

“Stop it, Em. Now, listen. I promise you that you won’t have to sell yourself. I’ll be making the money; I’ll have some well paying job… Maybe a lawyer—I’ll have to go to school though, and you can relax…”

“Good. I hate being a whore…. Strange men touching me and hitting me, and sometimes they steal back the money. I know not to fight ‘cause it’ll be worse on my part. They beat me…’Til I’m black and blue.”

“I don’t want to hear that, Em. It gives me too much grief. Hearing about you being hurt. Oh, God, darling.”

“I’m sorry, Erik. I don’t want you upset. But it’s reality. I need to pay for the kid to live… Even though I don’t care for him much—that is, not very well… I mean…”

“Emmy, Em… Tell me what you mean… Please, darling.” He kissed her forehead against. “I know it’s hard for you to care for our child… But I hope you try, at least. Do you try, Em, tell me you try.”

“I do, I do try. But you’re right it’s too difficult. I don’t think I’m good enough.”

“It’s hard with the drugs, isn’t it, Em? Is that the problem?”

“No fully. I just… People say, like a few years ago my aunt Marilyn said that I needed to shape up. She told me I was a mother now. Mar offered to take care of Cole for a bit if I went to rehab. I refused. And my great aunt…”

“What did Maija say?”

“You know how harsh she is on me… Oh God, she just verbally abuses my parenting. She refuses to see me now. Like Marilyn does… I haven’t seen Kaz in so long… But I’ve heard she’s in rehab now ‘cause I screwed her up so much. I let her smoke; I gave her my shit. She was an addict because of me…”

“…Don’t let Cole get into this, Emmy.“

“I won’t.”

“Look,” his eyes read hers; with a soft emotion his voice whispered a lull. Hers were fighting back tears. “It must hurt to have family turn their backs on you. But I would never to you and you can’t to Cole. You have to show him love… Emmanuelle, does he sleep alone at night? Do you hold him? Keep him warm… Is he alone like this rarely or often?” Her shame seemed to dwell, shunned in the presence of the boy’s father.

“I leave him alone…” He voice was haunted. Whispered as if her pitches were hidden in fear of his response. “I try… But, but… I don’t know, Er. I need to work, or sometimes I just get myself so wasted that… That… I’m, I—“

“Shh, Em.” He placed his lips against her as his plotting to hush her quite frequently. “Try now, for me. No, for Cole. He needs his mother. The poor kid can’t sleep alone. Wherever you are—“

“On the streets in between the people who take us in…”

“Especially on the streets, Em. Hold him close when you rest. Even if you don’t sleep, hold him in your arms. You need to be with him. He’s just a kid; he can’t be taking care of himself at time life this. I’m sure you remember what it was like to not have a mum. He needs you. The poor child having to sleep by himself in the cold… Em, be his mother… He needs you…Ever think about it?”

“Bout what? How I truly am a wretched mother?”

“You’re not wretched. You just don’t, oh, darlin’, I don’t know. You were never taught how to care for a child… I’m sorry, Em. It isn’t that I think you’re a bad parent it’s just, you need to try harder. For him. He needs you. As I was going to say, get into his mind frame: Mummy does drugs, or whatever he knows of it. She leaves all the time; going off. Have to sleep in the cold without her warm arms around me. Mom’s not here, is she dead? Where’s momma?” He looked at her a few moments, detesting the shame he brought upon her ways. “Honey, just about four-years-old. Almost five, if you’re turning twenty. He needs his mommy. Being so little and left alone in the dark. He could be used to it by now but picture it, if you will, how lonely it would be. Roaming with an empty tummy, depending if you’re gone for more than a day, freezing from the whether. Frightened. No one to cry into, no one to sing him a lullaby.”

“He must be so scared. God, Erik, we’ve got to find him. Get up, off.” She placed her palms on his chest and attempted to shove him away. “Now! Now. He could be freezing to death right now! Erik, get off.” He didn’t move. For he feared her small outbreak of hysteria would sore higher; Elle was known to drown herself in culpability if willing to admit. Lying had been something she outclassed in, with when times took toll to blame others. Nonetheless Chenoweth sought to take actions in self-harm, decked in anxiety. “Erik, get off of me now! We’ve got to find him. It’s my fault, omigosh it’ll be the end I—off of me now! Now!”

“No, not until you calm down.” He said, with a soft tongue. His hand lightly touched her shoulder; his eyes followed the drops of depression, which fell ever so resignedly down her cheeks. The tips of his fingers, possessed by his other hand, has traced the tears, her cheek bone, in a soft caresses. “You need to calm down, Emmy. For yourself, for me, but predominantly for Cole. In no way whatsoever will we be able to find the poor child if you’re in hysterics. Remaining clam is very essential. Think of this, my love: if you are still acting as so we could be heard and found. Or when we find Cole—“ A tone so certain of when we pressed rigid into the air as his lips came close to her nose. She struggled a sort, but after a moment for two she became lulled. “Calm, Em?” She nodded. “Alright,” he got up, his hands clutching her wrists to help her to a stance, he brushed the snow off her body. “I hate seeing you cry, Emmy—“ A laugh, a small one, slipped his lips as he moved his thumbs about her under eye, clearing away the running mascara and eyeliner or the most of it. “Cheer up, kid. We’ll find our son.”

“I know we will… I hope we will.”

“We will, Em. I swear it. Now,” each hand rest on her shoulder; the chill of her skin invading an unpleasant touch down towards the bone in his fingers thus he moved himself to wrap his arms further around her body. For if he had been shivered by what he felt, surly inside she slowly froze. “Just think—you feel very cold.”

“I am.”

“Want my jacket?”

“No.”

Silence: a long one, at that; of no words to be said. Em refused his offer, whether it was out of pride or a wish of self-mutilation [in that she would freeze herself to near death with limbs becoming numb]. Erik had, nonetheless, knowing his girl’s problems—especially with her art of arguing—wanted to pull off his coat and drape it upon her shoulders.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

He paused a moment before nodding. The issue had grown defeated in his purpose so he focused more so on the important matter: Cole. “Tell me again, Emmy, where do you live? Not where you have lived, where you live.”

“Like I said, I was kicked out of my last two homes.”

“Yes, yes, the woman with the daughter, Marley, and…. You never told me.”

“Cole and I lived with this man, Artemis… Uh, John Artemis, I think. Artemis Johnson… One or the other.”

“Oh God, Em, you can’t even remember his name?”

“…No, is that a problem?”

“Well, if you can’t remember the name of the person housing you I suspect that finding Cole will be… Oh, Em, forgive me. I just, seeing you like this…”

“Seeing me like what?” That, a change of wording from an assault at the sentence had had before.

“Darling,” a breath, pulling her closer he rested his lips by her ear. “This addicted had forced you to a spot where your memory has run faulty. It isn’t you…”

“’Course it’s me! Come on, Erik, you know I—“

“I don’t want to argue about this. I want to find Cole. Forget I said anything I—either remember where he is or finish telling me about your last living space.”

“I don’t want to. Not really, please don’t make me.”

“Just tell me why you were kicked out.”

“Um.”

“Em?”

“Well, because… You see—I don’t want to get into the whole big story and deal of it. But, not only were the drugs a problem with him but he wasn’t treating me right.”

“How do you mean”

“What do you think?”

“Oh… So he still kicked you out… Why?”

“’Cause I refused to have sex with him.”

“But you’re—“

“A whore? I know it’s my job but rape it completely different. I would always scream and threaten to tell the cops. But I knew I couldn’t do that because I’d be busted for all my shit and stuff. And, like, the coppers would take Cole away and all. I don’t like being a mum, much, it’s hard, but I love that child to death and couldn’t ever give him up. I know my parenting skills is to that of a—well, something bad but I wouldn’t let any damn officer take him from me! No fucking way, I know I don’t do shit for him, but I try. I try so hard but sometimes I don’t care but I couldn’t stand to see him in the arms of another mother. Anyways, finally after a bit he was all ‘you fucking slut get the Hell out of my house. You bitch sleep around but not with me. Think you’re so superior, ohh well you are nothing of the sort. Dirty little whore screwing men on street corners to make you damn keep, well this is how you’re fucking supposed to pay your damn rent: a sum of money a month isn’t enough. I let you and your brat come into my home and this is how you act under my roof?! Out! Get the fuck out before I fucking murder you and your ugly bastard.’ So I grabbed Cole and a few of my things and left. I don’t care if I left most of my clothing behind or other belongings because it wasn’t safe there. Especially for Cole. Like, God, I paid rent at a very high rate and that sonofabitch wanted to sex me every moment. He was just so… So rough and he hurt me and I didn’t want to.”

“I’m glad you got yourself out of a problem like that, ‘Elle—And don’t cuss. Please, try and stop that. Cole’ll learn it.” He sighed, “but that doesn’t matter now, does it? No. Em, you do have your self-respect that just proved it. I wish I could be there, I wish we were allowed to be together, so that didn’t happen to you.” He kissed her, closing his eyes and rubbing her arm. “So, after you left his home where did you and Cole go—how long ago was this?”

“Uh, ‘bout a month ago, three weeks? Dunno. But, Cole and I live out here on the streets. But more of in this little alleyway, which I must say can be quite cozy especially when the buildings aligned it had the heat on. The pipes near us are warm. I can’t think of the exact location at this moment but, um… Maybe I did leave him there.”

“Think, Em, please think.”

With Emmanuelle’s eyes setting closure for concentration her head lowered with Erik’s hand wrapped around her own. She leaned against him and opened her eyes. “He’s not in the alley. Because we left early in the morning from there to walk: that was the last we were ever at the alley in the last three days. Because there was much to do… And of course he couldn’t come with me when I… When I, well you know what. So I just and I—Well, I’m not quite sure for it. “ At once her body language changed to that of a shamed child, begging for forgiveness. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, Em.” But it seemed to take him a while before his response left his mouth. The fact of Emmanuelle losing track of the boy seemed inconceivable—this not just being misplacing a son in a compartment store or even in a house. She lost her child out in the world; in the darkness of the frozen season with little or no food, hardly any warmth. No protection. Despite all, Erik had known the delicateness of his lover’s mind. Emotion fragile, self-doubt bolded with any inaccuracy she might slip upon. Forgetting the last place her little boy was in was just another addition to the quota of her lies and mistakes. Thus, as any human would do to coo another he copied her ways with a lie. “I’m not. I know things are difficult for you, darling… I know you need to make money and you can’t always take care of Cole at the same time. I wish so much that I could be there for you. But I can’t. You must try harder, my love. I can promise things will be fine. Next time leave him in the alley, if it is safe ther—“

“Oh, but it is! This alley is not the kind in which pushers sell their shit. It’s pretty much just this place where me and the kid sleep.”

“The kid and I, Emmy.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, tell me…”

“Please Emmy, it wasn’t anything.”

“Fuck you. I slipped on my grammar, that’s what and all you can fucking do at a time where how I speak is not at all important is correct me?!” Yet it was true. Correcting Emmanuelle on her way of speech could have just been a death sentence of her own doing. With the self-hate errors in her ways added up for excess depression. The moment his correction made way regret joined it.

“No, Em. That has nothing to do with it at all. I—“

“You’re right! It has nothing to do with it. So why bring it up?”

“You want Cole to learn—Oh, never mind. I’m sorry, dear. Forgive me…”

She sighed. “I do. I’m sorry for snapping. I’m just tired.”

“I’m sorry for correcting you. Your grammar is usually better than mine.”

“Ha!”

“It’s true.”

“No. I mean, do you remember how in primary and middle school they’d all be like ohhh you will need grammar and math in real life la-de-da-blah-blah and this and that!”

“Yeah, so?”

“So here we are arguing about it!”

“Yes, well, you’re still supposed to be in school.”

“Pish. College and I wouldn’t get in if someone paid them.”

“Oh, come off it, Em! You must have more pride in your own self. I’m sorry for correcting you now we’re way off subject and—“

“We need to find Cole.”

“Exactly.”

“So…”

“So, go on.”

“Huh?”

“You and Cole sleep in the alley. Yes, now go on.”

“Oh! So, we sleep in that alley, as I told you before and it’s safe. No druggies… ‘Cept for yours truly, but you know what I mean.”

“You can leave him there then when you go off to work…”

“Yup.”

“But Em,” he pulled her forward, cradling his arms around her back. “It shouldn’t be this way. You should have a home to leave him in.”

“I don’t have enough money to pay rent.”

“Surly from your job you make plenty.”

“Nuh-uh, I don’t. I mean, maybe I do but sometimes, like I said before…”

“They take their money back, ohh Em.” He kissed her forehead. “It must be hard… I hate hearing this… I want to take you back to my home but I can’t.”

“No, it’s okay. But then… Sometimes those men don’t take their money back and I…” A head bowed in shame with realization of her own addiction feeding into the problem of keeping her darling son alive. For there for not so much she could do to control her actions. Over time everything that seemed unstable in her life caved in with a more domino effect. She hadn’t grasped changing her ways, yet even if she comprehended her problems.

“You what, Emmy…” A tone so soft, yet landing with an edge of rough concern.

She didn’t answer.

“Tell me.”

“You know, Erik.”

He nodded with a sigh and held her out with his eyes scanning her figure. “I want to help you.”

“But you can’t. And I want to be able to stop doing this shit… But I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“No, I just can’t.” Which lead on to a further silence. Through the night with all tranquil. Nothing more was to be said. Both beings realized fate was at a dead end from this point. He pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her as if clinging on for dear life. She cried into him, her body becoming limp. “I can’t do anything.”

“Yes you can. Em, I believe you can and you—we just need to get over this rough spot. I swear when the war is over we will be together. We’ll have another child and get those three dogs. Come on, darling. Chin up.”

“You’ve already said that… And it’s just fantasy, it isn’t true. This whole damn battle keeps getting worse and you know it! It isn’t getting better, it won’t be over any time soon!”

“Things must get worse before they get better, Em, you know that.”

“Let’s just find Cole, okay?”

“Okay.” She pulled away from him, her wrist meeting her face to ward off tears. Erik gingerly held her hand. “Where do you think he might be?”

“I don’t know… Somewhere around here, maybe?”

“Maybe? Emmy, darling, you’re not just being cute with that?” He poked her, lightly, towards her upper arm before she turned to him with a brow raised. Her expression painted the true clueless abilities to comprehend a normal conversation in that he quirked his head with a coy smile; dawned in understanding for her ways. “Cute. You always say maybe to be cute.”

“Do not—and since when are you twisted the search for our son—a serious matter—into accusations of my adorableness?”

“You were.”

“Maybe. No, honestly. I wasn’t.”

“Maybe we should go back to looking for him?”

“Maybe, just maybe…” Her expression fell for a moment as she seized his wrist firmly. “No.” A fright of Cole’s life, with overturned guilt. “No, Erik… It’s getting colder out and he’s out alone. My fault, my fault the poor little guy is probably frozen… It’s turned so cold… He’s going to d—“

“No, Em!” He grabbed her back in his arms, with her back to his chest. She, he had been sure of, was drowning for a breakdown of self-hate. In that would have resulted of a run away: not far, possibly, yet hidden away with a shard of glass an affect of blood tracing her flesh.

“Erik, let go!” On opposition his arms became a tighter restraint keeping her own partly at her sides, folded at the elbows with her hands franticly attempting to claw away at him.

“Not until you calm down and tell yourself that you’re a good person.”

“I’m not.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Emmanuelle, I’m not going to let go of you—you’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“So what if I do? Cole could be dead and it’s all my fault!”

“And if he isn’t dead his mother will defile herself for nothing: don’t do this to his mum. Don’t do this to yourself, Em. Self-harm is not an answer.”

“He’s frozen to death, he is and I’m a horrible person! Bad mother. I’m a bad mother. Let go. Bad mum, bad, bad person. Leave me be.”

Unsure of his desire to deal with her actions one attempt stood left in a dangerous hope of irony. “Fine.” He loosened her arms, pushing her forward. She took it a step of drama forcing a choked whimper from her throat, brining her wrists to cover her face while she balanced to normal posture. “Fine, Emmanuelle, I’ll let go. You go off and slit your wrists, cut yourself up—I’ll go find our son… But when I find him and he asks where his mother is, I’ll just have to tell him she’s dead. How wonderful, his mummy is a frozen corpse adorned with her own blood.”

“Erik!”

“Em.”

“Erik, you don’t mean that! How could you say that, Erik!” At when he recognized her actions of collapsing to her knees in a fit patronized by his slander of reverse psychology he made over to her, brining himself level. His hand balanced her chin forcing her to return his gaze.

“I didn’t. Em, I don’t know what to tell you anymore… I try so hard to tell you the right thing but you take it wrong. With your stubbornness… If I prevent in letting you hear what you want then you over react as when I give up. What do you want, Em? Tell me what you want!”

“I don’t want to be scared anymore. I don’t want to be alone, without you. I’m afraid, Erik, I’m afraid of living. I can’t breathe without you and drugs supplement—they, I find myself ill without them—really ill! I feel so weak and so sick… My skin burns and I throw up. But then when I take them I feel better...”

“You’ve tried to quit then?” He helped her up; during the next few actions he draped his coat about her shoulders, starting to walk into the further snow-decked night. His voice held hope in that his doll had not plunged herself in dangers deeper than she had.

“No.” She paused, her body turned with her quivering hands touching his face causing a reflective flinch of the iced fingers she owned through the small caress. “When I don’t have money, when I run out, when I have nothing at all… Er, if my days without stash were and are as dreadful as be then quitting would be just the same if not worse, no? Wouldn’t everyday feel like death and make it wanted even more? The burning, the dizziness, shit I’d kill myself straight away. It hurts, it hurts so much. That’s why I can’t quit. Because when I haven’t had I…I suffer the most horrific agony. Physical reflection of what my heart feels without you. Without the drugs, my body endures pain like my heart without you… So I can’t quit, because, because it would be like murder.”

“No, Em. Not after a while. But that if why you must quit now before your situation becomes worse. You’ll be sicker when you have nothing if you continue on… Like how my heart aches greater each day I’m apart from you.”

“But even now… Oh, God, my stomach cringes… I’ve had today, though. So… why? And not as much, I don’t feel at all that sick. But my stomach, it—“

“You’re starving to death. You’re hungry, that is why. Once we find Cole we’ll eat.”

“No… No, I’m not hungry. But we can feed Cole.”

“You will eat, Emmanuelle. We’ll find him then I’ll go get food. We’ll have to eat it in the ally to keep hidden.”

“Cole will eat and you, you will eat.”

“And you will eat too. Tell me, love, when was the last time you ate?”

“I ate this morning!”

“What did you eat?”

“I had…”

“Go on.”

“Some gum. I swear I did, Erik. Bubble Gum, at that! Twenty calories.”

“Gum is not food. Emmanuelle, please… Do you want to die before we can properly get married?” She bowed her head letting tears speak. “I know it’s hard… Your conditions are considered diseases.”

“That I brought upon myself but I can’t help it.”

“I know you can’t. But I want to help you… And I understand you struggle with doing so on your own. But Emmy, I want you to promise me you’ll start to eat more… Pushing you, I know, might make you resist but, sweetheart, you’re far too malnourished—Em, you’re nothing but bone!”

“Stop it. That isn’t how I seem to myself I don’t even want to go on about my body. Leave that subject alone. We need to find Cole. Just shut up.”

“Em…”

“Shut up!”

“Emmanuelle, I don’t want you to die! Do you not realize that—“

“That I’m dying already!? I know. Erik, don’t you think I know that? Fuck, Erik, I know what this shit does to me and there’s no escape. ‘You’re going to die, Emmy. Drugs are bad. Emmanuelle Lorraine, may God of mercy on your sinful soul, you’ll go straight to Hell. Ohhh, that poor dear, does she not know she’s killing herself? That Chenoweth-girl, Maija’s great niece… The one who got knocked up at fifteen? I saw her fucking on the street corner the other day, what a Tramp!’ Yeah, I’ve heard it from people: to my face and to one another. I’m not stupid. I know that I may never live to see Cole grow up but, Erik I—“

“You will live. As long as you believe in yourself. I know, that sounds terribly corny, my love , but you must try, be optimistic. You will live.”

“I had a bagel yesterday,” she forced a smile, which he returned—turned down by hers fading. “But I felt guilty afterwards and purged.”

“Eating a bagel is a step-up. You’re already thin enough. Any food at this point won’t hurt. In fact, food shouldn’t be something to be worried about.”

“It works that I can hardly afford it… But thank you, for saying I’m thin. It makes me feel better.”

“That’s because you are thin.” He gave her a small tickle, sneaking his hand through the opening of the coat, against her ribs pinching that thin layer of skin available.

“Ow!”

“Oh, see, no fat so if I try and play around with you—“

“Teach me a lesson!”

“It’ll hurt.”

“Maybe I want it to hurt.”

He swept her up in his arms, looking down into her gorgeous eyes. “Now we find Cole and no more