Sweet Sixteen, Chapter 22 ~ Wake Up

Sam’s eyes were black when he opened them; completely dark like one large pupil with no trace of white or iris.  He screamed and thrashed, the blanket still wrapped tightly around him.  Marc scrambled away, but Russ just stood and stared, then looked at Elly as if he had never met her before.

Elly backed away, letting Sam extricate himself from the blanket all on his own.  He scrambled to his feet, then put a hand to the congealed wound on his head and fell silent.  He didn’t make a very impressive figure, holding his head, face contorted in confusion and fear, but no one could think of anything to say, besides Marc, who was swearing, “Fucking hell, fucking hell,” rapidly under his breath, over and over.

“Sam?” Elly was the first to address him, but she was unsure now whether she was really talking to Sam.

He didn’t answer her, just turned and limped away to the kitchen, still holding his head as if it would spill open if he didn’t.  Elly took a step to follow him, which brought Russ to life.  “Don’t,” he said.

Elly did not stop, but turned back briefly to say, “He can’t hurt me.”

“Sam,” she said, following him into the kitchen, “are you alright?  Well, that’s a stupid question, but . . . .”

He was on the floor leaning against the cupboard.  “I am not alright.  Your father’s trying to kill me.”  He answered her in Sam’s voice, not a ghostly spirit voice, which relieved her.

Russ came up behind her.  “I did kill you,” he said flatly.

“I didn’t do anything to Elly,” Sam said, cowering on the floor.  “She’ll tell you.  Right?  Right, El?”  He looked at her, then distractedly around at the kitchen, probably still trying to understand why he wasn’t still in his bedroom.

Russ just continued to stare at him, as if he expected him to turn into a bat at any moment.

Elly felt relieved, and bolstered by Sam’s response.  Besides the eyes and the disorientation, he seemed to be himself, and very much alive.  Blood began to seep out between his fingers where he held his head, as returned life made the wound fresh again.  She spun around, saying, “I’m getting something to bandage him up.  Don’t kill him again.”  Then she ran out of the kitchen, to the bathroom, and began to ransack the cupboard in search of bandages.

She returned with a box she’d found in the back, labeled First Aid.  It wasn’t exactly hospital regulation, but there was hydrogen peroxide, a roll of gauze, and some scotch tape, which would have to do.

Sam was still on the floor; Russ had pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down where he could watch the man he had just recently killed.  Elly had no idea what he was thinking; her father had a way of becoming inscrutable when thinking things over, and whether he was thinking about killing Sam again or not, she couldn’t tell.

Marcus had sidled into the kitchen but still kept a safe distance from Sam.  Elly did not want to ask her father for help, so instead she ordered Marc to come over and help her wrap the gauze around Sam’s head.

Marc looked at Russ, who just said tightly, “Obviously your sister knows what she’s doing.”  Marc took that as permission to obey, and went over by Sam and Elly, though he clearly feared the recently dead.

It took some coaxing for Sam to let them at the gash, but once he was assured that they weren’t trying to kill him, just the opposite, he relaxed a little and let Elly clean away the blood.  Once they bandaged the wound and wrapped and taped it as best they could, they tried to get him to go into the living room and lay down.  He muttered something about getting blood on Noah’s leather couch, but even Russ got up to help lead him out of the kitchen.

They made him lay down, and Elly spread the blanket over him; the very same one which had been used to carry his corpse.  Russ stood for a moment looking down at him.

“If you ever come near any of my children ever again, I will kill you, permanently,” he said, then added, “Tell Noah to call me when he gets home.”

Sam’s only response was to pull the blanket over his head and hide, as if from the boogey-man.  Russ didn’t seem to care, though, and turned to Elly.  Here it comes, she thought.

But he just said, “We’re going home.”

---

Liseli was asleep when Russ walked into their room.

 . . . Elly scares me, sometimes . . . .

He stood in the dark for a few moments, afraid to wake her.  He knew he had to.  He knew he had to tell her what had happened, even though he didn’t understand it all, yet.

 . . . Elly isn’t like the boys . . . 

The car ride home had been completely silent.  Elly Ann offered no explanation and he . . . he didn’t really want to know.  He couldn’t forget how her eyes had changed from hazel to black as she knelt over Sam, the same black his eyes were when he came back screaming.  He couldn’t forget how she’d spoken to someone who wasn’t there.  He didn’t understand it, but it scared him, because this was not the daughter he thought he’d raised.

 . . . she’s like the other one . . . 

He would have to confront her about everything, but he needed Liseli.  He needed her to be there.  To be there for him.  He needed her to not be angry at him for lying to her when he left, when he went to kill Sam, because he’d known she wouldn’t let him.

 . . . Elly scares me, sometimes . . . .

He’d known she’d know better.

 . . . I think I’m going to lose her . . . 

She would have known things weren’t as they seemed.

 . . . she’s just going to disappear . . . 

She’d always known Elly Ann better.

 . . . and it scares me . . . 

“Liseli.”

---

“Liseli.  Wake up.”

She stirred, hearing his voice several times before it truly registered, pulling her from sleep.  She opened her eyes and looked up.  The room was dark, but the hallway light was on and it made Russ into a dark shadow standing over the bed.  She couldn’t see his face.  She reached out sleepily and touched his leg.  “What took you so long?” she mumbled.

He didn’t answer, just wavered for a moment, then crawled into bed next to her and wrapped his arms around her tightly.  Liseli closed her eyes and began to drift back to sleep, not even fully awake to begin with.

“Tell me everything is going to be alright,” Russ said quietly.

“Mmm?”

“I need to know it’s gonna be okay.  It can’t be as bad as it seems.”

She opened her eyes.  “What’s wrong?”

He let go of her and sat up, putting his head in his hands.  Liseli pulled herself up to sit beside him.  She rested her hand on his back, tentatively, trying to understand.  “Russ?  What is it?  What’s the matter?”

“It’s Elly Ann,” was all he said.

“Elly?  Why?  What has she done?”

Russ uttered a short laugh behind his hands, then dropped them and looked at her.  “You didn’t ask if something happened to her, or if she’s alright.  You immediately assume she’s done something.  How do you know these things?”

Liseli just stared at him, barely able to see his face in the dark.  What had Elly done?  She couldn’t explain why she instinctively asked that question.

“Tell me what happened,” she said, sounding far more calm than she felt.

So he told her.  He told her what Elly had done.  He told her what he had done.  What happened.

Liseli sat quietly for a few moments, digesting the information.  She hadn’t known that Elly could turn invisible, she hadn’t known that she could bring a dead man back to life, and yet . . . and yet, it was not a surprise.  Not a total shock.  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had always known, without knowing exactly what.  Elly was different, was enigmatic, and had always seemed to old for her age.  Liseli had always felt something off, but never wanted to dwell on it or think about what it meant.

Now she knew it couldn’t be ignored or pushed to the back of her mind or brushed off as paranoia.  Not anymore.

She reached out to put her arms around Russ, just hugging him for a moment, before saying, “Everything is going to be alright.”

---

Elly fell asleep in the shower.

As soon as they’d gotten home, she’d gone into the bathroom, stripped off the last of her phoenix costume, and stepped in the shower stall, turning the water to scalding hot.

She washed with soap, over and over, but it never seemed like enough.  It wasn’t Sam, or sex, or guilt she was trying to wash away, but the other thing.  She couldn’t turn the water hot enough; she still felt cold.

It had begun in the car, as they drove home in painful silence.  Her father wouldn’t look at her or speak to her, and Marc just stared, until she looked his way.  Then he pretended he wasn’t.  Her relief that Sam wasn’t dead, after all, began to fade and the coldness crept up on her.

The hand she’d reached out to was not her sister’s, it was something old and dark and powerful.  It had brought back Sam back to life but it was not inside him.  It was inside her, now, with her, whispering in the back of her mind.

You are the Lost One, it said.

She tried to ignore it.  But it kept trying to get her attention.  She wished someone would say something, so it would leave her alone.

You belong with us, here, in the river.  Come back, come back, come back to us.

It wouldn’t go away.  The shower wouldn’t wash it away.

She sank down to sit on the shower floor, finally, and fell asleep, the water rushing over her.

---

She dreamed of butterflies and nesting dolls.

The Lost One was a small white caterpillar, so pale it was nearly translucent.  It curled itself up into a little ball and it lay there, perfectly still, while a tiny baby girl grew around it.  When the baby was born the sleeping thing beneath its surface stirred.  The baby grew up into a little girl, and she carried her sister with her.  There were two of them, one inside the other, like nesting dolls.  Only the little girl didn’t know what it meant.  She saw the Lost One but didn’t understand.

That’s me, Elly realized.  And it’s you.  We’ve always been together.  You’ve always been inside me.  In my mind.  In my soul.  With me.

I have, said River. 

In her dream Elly saw the girl, herself, break open like a nesting doll, and out flew a pale white butterfly.  It fluttered away, and she lay there, empty and alone.  Won’t we always be together? she asked.

No.  I want to be free.  It’s time, said River.  It’s time for me to be free.

---

Liseli found Elly curled up at the bottom of the shower.  When she walked into the bathroom, it was filled with steam, but when she opened the shower stall and turned off the water, the steam dissipated and revealed Elly, asleep, curled in a fetal position.

She opened her eyes and rolled up to sit, then started to shiver.

“Do you know what you’ve done to your father?” was the first thing Liseli could think of to say.  “He loves you more than anything.  What is the matter with you, Elly?”

“I didn’t think he would kill Sam.”

“Don’t lie to me.  I know you’re not that stupid.”

Elly bowed her head for a moment.  Her hair, dark and wet, fell in front of her face.

“Yes,” she said.

“Alright.

“I won’t lie to you, Mother.  I didn’t care what happened to Sam.  I don’t care about anyone.  Not you, not Dad, not anyone — except for Elly, because she’s me, in a way.  Elly wanted to still be innocent, so I lied for her.  She lied, because I lied, because there is nothing I do that she does not.  But it’s my fault.  I’ll admit it.”

She looked back up, brushing her hair back.  Her eyes were black.  “Elly tries.  She tries to be a good girl, and she loves you.  She cares, so much.  But there’s something dead and dark inside her and it’s always been there.  I’ve always been there.  You’ve always known that.  I know you’re not that stupid.”

Liseli backed up a step.

“Why did you never ask how I knew about the Lost One?  You knew that I knew.  You’ve never forgotten that I’m the one who told Daddy.  But you never, never wanted to face the facts.”

“Elly . . . .”

“I am not Elly!” screamed the thing in the shower.  “I am the Lost One.  And I hate you, Mother.  I.  Hate.  You.  Why did you let me die?  Why didn’t you protect me?  That’s what you were supposed to do.  But you didn’t.”

Then she slumped back against the shower wall and was silent, her eyes closed.

“What was I supposed to do?” Liseli asked.  “Tell me how I was supposed to protect you.”

She stirred, and opened her eyes again.  They were hazel.  Elly said tiredly, “I don’t know.  She doesn’t know . . . how was she supposed to know what the hell was going on?  All she knows is that she died.  That someone killed her before she was born, and you didn’t stop it.”

She looked away from Liseli, to the side, and Liseli followed her gaze.  The ghost was standing there, silent and wrathful, its black eyes fixed on Liseli.

“It’s just an illusion, you know,” said Elly.  “She’s not really standing there.  She’s in here—” she put a hand to her chest “—she always has been.  Do you remember, the first time you saw her ‘ghost’?”

Liseli didn’t need to pause, or think back.  “It was when I was pregnant with Elly.  With you.  I saw her, and then I knew.”

“We’re one in the same.  We’re sisters, and we’re each other.  And she knew the whole time, but I’ve been asleep.”

Liseli was distracted by the wraith standing in the bathroom, small and cold and dead.  She could barely believe this thing lived inside of Elly, had always done so, had always been Elly since the beginning.

“She couldn’t know,” it said, and the voice seemed to come from the apparition and the girl in the shower at the same time.  “It would have driven her insane, to know everything that I know, to feel the coldness all the time.  To know what it’s like to be dead, and trapped.  I’ve been protecting her, you see.  But she’s old enough, now, to know the truth.  She’s been realizing, slowly, for years.  So don’t worry.  It will all be alright.”

Liseli shook her head.  “I don’t understand.”

“We won’t always be this way.  We can fix it.  But you will have to lose Elly first.  You’ve always known that.”

She tore her eyes away from the ghost and looked at Elly.  She was shivering in earnest now, naked and shaking.  Liseli grabbed a towel and stepped into the stall, throwing it over her daughter’s shoulders.  She pulled her up to a standing position and wrapped the towel around her tighter.

“I would have saved you, if I could,” she said, even though the eyes that looked back at her were hazel.  “The woman who killed you is dead.  I killed her.  But I had to wait till she was weak.  When she killed you, she was too strong for me.  I . . . I would have stopped her, but I couldn’t.”

“Mom.”  Elly crooked a smile.  “Don’t worry about it.  I love you.  She loves you, too, she didn’t really mean it when she said she hated you.  Okay?”

Liseli didn’t know what to say.

“We love you,” Elly repeated.  “Don’t believe her when she says she doesn’t care.  She lies.”

“She needs to let you go.”

“She won’t do that until I can give her a body of her own.  So, I just have to figure out how to do that.  Then I can be just Elly, and she can be River, and there won’t be a Lost One anymore.”  Elly was still shivering, but she nodded a little, sure of what she was saying.  “Everything will be alright, in the end.”

Liseli shook her head, adamantly.  “She has to let you go.  It’s not your . . . it’s not Elly’s fault that the Lost One died.”  She paused, then shook her head again, having difficulty addressing two people at once.  “If you care about her, or me, or your father, at all, you’ll let her be herself.”

The enigmatic smile returned.  “And go back to the river?  River—” she tilted her head thoughtfully “—Elly’s given me that name, because she knows I belong there.  But I don’t like it there.  It’s cold and it’s dark and it’s full of dead things.  I spent three years there, trapped, until Elly came along.  If you knew what it was like, you’d never tell me to go back.”

She clutched the edge of the towel and pulled it tighter around her.  “I don’t want to send her back there, anyway.  She’s my sister.  I promised her that I would help her, and I’m going to.”