Young Writers Society

I knew that was all she would say on the subject, that if I tried to probe she would brightly change the subject. If you didn’t know my sister, she would appear an open book, always ready to talk about her hair, the boys in our neighbourhood from when she had known them, even girls she disliked. But venture too far, go too deep, and she’d shut down completely, rapidly changing the subject or resorting to yes or no answers.She could not let her armour, what kept her from crumbling from the weight of pain and responsibility on her shoulders, be chinked, even for a moment.

*

“Ella, I’m home!” I called a second time. Again, no answer. But above the eerie ring of silence came a wave of smothered sobs emanating from the kitchen.

*

They weren’t Ella’s.

*

And when my feet reached the doorway, when I gingerly pushed the door open, when my eyes were pulled into what had occurred during my absence, that’s when I realised.

*

They would never be Ella’s again.

*

He was waiting for me when I crossed into the woods. I had walked slowly, heavily out of the house, my feet taking me where, apart from with Ella, I felt most at home.I felt her eyes on my back, reddened from from the poison that had driven her to this. I did not, could not turn to face the woman who had once been my Mother. She had reached out to me, regret plastered all over her face, but I had lurched backwards, a scream threatening to break to the surface. I turned and ran, leaving her and my sister behind. I had left her so often, I could almost pretend there was nothing different this time. But the image burned into the forefront of my mind said otherwise.

*

Now, my eyes peered into the oaks and pines and maples that made up the forest. He was behind me, but I could not bring myself to look at him.

*

“I want to leave,” I whispered, “Now.”

*

He nodded. I knew he knew.

*

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

*

“Somewhere else.”

*

“That’s not a place, Alice Green,” despite himself, he chuckled softly.

*

“Stop calling me that,” I said, but I was smiling. I turned, and his smile met mine, marred only by the tears in his eyes. As they collected and spilled from his dark lashes, I wiped them away with my sleeve. Perhaps I should cry too, but he has taken the brunt of my emotions and cried for me. There are no tears left for me to shed.

*

He sniffed quietly. I gave him a reassuring smile and took his hand in mine. He squeezed it gently, and I looked back at the house, the house that had never, ever been Home to me. I wondered how such a simple, quaint little cottage, with rose bushes popping out of the soil, and ivy and honeysuckle snaking up its face, could conceal a woman who’s poisons controlled her every evil action, and a lost little girl with a heart as big as our Weeping Willow, trapped inside whilst her sister sought refuge in the trees.

*

I hope she found a place where she can be happy, unafraid. I know I have.

“Goodbye Ella,” I said softly, and let Tree Boy pull me into the warm, welcoming arms of the forest I had grown up in.

*

Writers note: Don't think this is the end, guys. Epilogue still to come!