When Lucas and I walked into my house that evening, there it was again.
The look.
The look that mum and Lucas always shared; the one that served as a constant reminder that they didn’t fully believe in me, that they still felt the need to protect me, to worry about me, even when I didn’t want them to.
It was mums eyebrows raised in a silent question. It was Lucas' wide eyes and the twitch of his lips, shoulder shrug - or a simple head shake. I was tempted to tell them that they really needed to be more subtly. But instead, I walked right past them and into the kitchen.
Ella was leant over the kitchen table, lost to the world. The chunky purple crayon in her hand scraped backwards and forwards across a piece of paper. She didn't look up when I said hello, her head still down, her tongue stuck out in concentration as she pressed harder on the paper.
She didn't notice my presence until I pulled back the chair beside her and sat down. Her head turned to the side and she shot me a small smile, before her attention immediately returned to her drawing. "Almost finished," she told me. Her owlish eyes narrowed and she pressed her free hand against the table to hold herself steady as her scribbling intensified.
"This isn't the warm welcome I've been looking forward to all day."
"Almost finished." She almost sang the words, a hint of frustration in her tone.
I gave in and leaned back in the chair, resigned to watch her until she was finished. It was a few minutes before she puffed out a sigh and released the crayon. It clattered to the table and rolled until nothing was left but air, and it had no option but to fall the tiles.
I watched it roll, distracted. So it was a surprise when Ella dived at me, arms around my neck, face in my hair. "Missed you too." As she spoke, she continued to strangle me. "I done art all the day and I made a surprise for you. Wanna see?”
I'd barely returned her hug before she'd slipped out of my arms. A blonde mop of hair disappeared from the room with a chorus of pattering footsteps. I laughed under my breath as I moved to follow after her.
In the hallway, I noticed that our livingroom door had been pulled to, a distant hum of voices floating through the gap. I was about to walk past when I heard five words, clear as day.
"I don't think she's coping."
My body had stilled but my heart was racing. Lucas and mum were talking about me, behind closed doors. Well, almost closed. But they were talking about me behind my back, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
"She just needs more time, sweetie."
I heard a sigh.
"I'm willing to give her all the time in the world. But what if we never get her back?"
My eyes widened in surprise. I leaned forward, and the tip of my shoe nudged the door open. I could only cringe, as the ancient hinges shrieked over their low voices. Silence. As mum and Lucas looked over at me, I willed myself to recover.
I didn't want them to know how much their words hurt. Didn't want them to know how much it pained my to have to see my mum comforting my best friend all because he couldn't let me see him upset. Didn't want them to know how devastating it was to discover that they thought I was losing my mind again.
I'd long lost hope in myself, but to know that the people who loved me no longer believed in me either was a breath of betrayal. And it was a knife to the heart to know that they were right. My smiles were fake, my laughter strained. They'd said it themselves - they might never get the old Rose back. I was a copy, a fraud.
I was a wilted version of my former self.
With a forlorn headshake, I made to leave.
"Rose." There was surprise in mums eyes and a small smile on her face. "How was your day, love?"
My shrug was pitiful. "It sucked, just like the rest of the week."
The surprise became warmth, the smile began to waver. "I'm sure it will get better for you soon. Did you remember to take your medication?"
"Not yet."
"It's important."
"I know."
Those two words held more bite than I'd anticipated. For a moment, I just stood there and witnessed the brief fall of her face. Then she took a deep breath, composed herself, and gave me one of her typically strained smiles. Before I could apologise, she'd walked past me into the kitchen.
Fast footsteps thundered down the stairs. Ella's arms waved as she sought my attention. "Here it is!" She cried out, over and over, until she reached the final step. The moment that she placed a piece of paper into my hand, glue had begun to stick to my fingers.
"It's a angel," she told me, as I looked down at it. It was a generic doll-shaped cut out, with a triangle dress coated in glitter. Multi-coloured feathers sprung from the stick arms, and white wool was stuck to half the face. A few dots and squiggles made up a face – eyes, nose, ears, and a smile.
As Ella watched me in eager anticipation, I couldn't help but think it was the most beautiful piece of art I'd ever seen. "I love it."
"It’s the angel from our song."
My smile matched hers. "What's her name?"
Ella's smile became a frown. She shrugged. "I don't know. Your angel - you give her name. Not me." She was almost appalled that I'd even asked the question. Her lips were pursed as she stared at me and waited.
"Well..." I trailed off as I tried to think of a name, my mind blank. I finally said the first one that came to mind. "Sophie. We can call her Sophie."
"That’s a pretty name."
My eyes lingered on the smile that sliced across the angel's neck. "Yeah, it is."
With Ella at my side, I joined mum in the kitchen. On the table, a pink and white striped mug steamed beside a familiar white box. I collapsed in the seat with a sigh. Mum pretended to not watch as I took out a strip, popped out a pill, and dropped it on my tongue.
I swallowed it dry. "Done."
The warmth of the tea burrowed into my palms as I pulled the mug towards me. The tea scolded my taste buds as I took a sip, a trail of fire in its wake as it slid down my throat. The sensation was no comparison to being watched by three pairs of eyes.
Ella, who had witnessed a similar scene her whole life with nothing but innocent curiosity. Mum, who tried to pretend she wasn't making sure I actually took my medication. And Lucas, who felt guilty even though it wasn't his fault.
After the silence became too much, I broke. "We should do something fun," I blurted. Mum looked dubious, Lucas confused. It was only Ella who reacted; her eyes alight as she wiggled in her seat.
"Can we go park?"
"You want to go to the park?"
"Yes," Ella insisted. She bounced up and down in her seat, the chair jumping with the movement. "I wanna go on the swings. Can we go? Please? Please, please, pretty please?"
I cut a glance at mum. She shrugged and continued to stare into her mug with an absentminded expression. "So long as you don't stay out too long, that's fine with me. But I don't want you out when it's dark."
"I know."
Ella cheered, dived from her seat. She ran to search for her coat faster than I could blink. I placed my mug on the table, the dull thud catching mum's attention and making her head rise. When our eyes met, I gave her a fragile smile. "I love you, y'know."
"I know," she said. "I just worry about you, maybe a little too much sometimes. But I’m a mum, and that’s what we do. And I don't want you getting hurt ever again."
I looked away with a deep sigh, unable to witness the light in her eyes fade because of me. "Are you coming with us?"
"I'm tired, Rose. I'm sure you'll be able to have fun without me." Her dark eyes rolled as she brought her mug to her mouth. From where she was leant against the counter, she felt so far away. I gulped. The lump in my throat built up as I rose from my chair and walked to her side. My arms went around her, and I could breathe again.
"I love you, mum." I spoke into her shoulder, as she patted the back of my head..
"I love you too, more than words can say. So stop worrying and go put Ella out of her misery. She's going to wear a hole in my carpet."
I laughed as I let her go. "We’ll be back soon."
When I left the kitchen, Ella was already stood before the cranberry-red door. Her pink parka was zipped up to her chin, her light jeans tucked into shiny red wellies. "Let's go," she cried out with eagerness as she tugged on the door handle. Her lips pursed as she pulled the door back until it flattened her against the wall. "Oof."
"Careful," I scolded as I pulled her from behind the door. The hallway was so narrow that there wasn't room for all three of us. Lucas stood in the livingroom doorway, amusement toying with the curve of his mouth. I pulled a face at him: tongue stuck out, eyes crossed.
Ella's hand disappeared into the hold of my own as we stepped outside. Lucas's light laughter followed us as he trailed behind. As he laughed, he turned around the shut the front door.
Ella glowered from behind her tiny hands as she rubbed her red nose. "Stop laughing at me, Lu. My nose really hurts." Her voice was muffled behind her palm, and he only laughed louder. When Lucas ruffled her hair, she moved her hand away and snapped her teeth at him.
"Whoa." Lucas reared back, hand to his chest. He fixed his expression into one of mock horror. "I'm bleeding! Somebody save me!"
Ella rolled her eyes at his dramatics, and I bit my lip at how much that single action reminded me of myself. She tugged my arm and walked by my side, leaving Lucas behind in front of the old terraced house, laughing and yelling to himself.
At the corner of the street, Ella looked up at me and giggled. I winked at her, and we started to run.
The park was only a few streets away. We were panting when we arrived, but Ella didn't hesitate as she made a beeline for the swings. Lucas was still catching up. He was a street away, face pained as he struggled to jog the final stretch.
"If you loved me you wouldn't make me exercise," he yelled out from the distance.
The last of summer had started to withered around us, the vibrancy of the grass fading as autumn beckoned. The bleak tarmac patch beneath the swings were soft beneath my old, battered trainers. When I breathed in, the air was crisp in my lings.
Elle was already sat on the rubber seat of the rusting swing. I could hear the chain shrieking as I made my way towards her. My arms were folded against the strong gusts of wind that picked up around us and with it, came the strange stench of tobacco and an indistinguishable flower.
"Rose! Push me!" Ella called out to me.
Aside from the three – well, almost three - of us, the park was empty. As I looked around, I couldn't imagine it being particularly crowded on the brightest of days.
Aside from the pitiful two-person swing set, the park consisted of a slide and monkey bars combination, and a tilted roundabout that looked like it hadn't moved in years. The grass was turning pale around us, as it spread far into the distance. Large trees cast shadows under the falling sun.
I stood behind Ella and pushed until she cried out in glee. I grinned, pushed her higher, and Elle started to kick her legs in excitement. "My toes are touching clouds!" She told me as she pointed the tips of her wellies upwards.
From the bench were he had landed, Lucas spluttered a strained sort of laugh. He struggled to catch his breath as he held a hand to his chest, huffing and puffing. There was a reason he'd skipped P.E. for five years. His idea of exercise was watching an entire series of a TV show in one day, with minimal breaks to forage for food or take a piss.
As she rose back and forth, Ella began to sing. Her voice was high and innocent, and she made our song beautiful. As her voice filled the air, my eyes began to explore the unfamiliar space around us.
It was nothing like the park back home. It was dirtier, emptier, darker. The trees loomed over the fields, as litter rolled in the grass. I couldn’t imagine this place ever being filled with children and families. It felt like we were the only people who’d stepped foot in here for a long time. We were alone, except for the dark shadow that hovered at a gap in the trees.
My blood chilled. My hands stopped mid-push as I stared at the darker shadow hidden in the distance. It didn't move, but all of a sudden I could feel it - that ugly sensation of being watched. The scratch, scratch, scratch at the back of my neck.
I was far too familiar with that feeling.
Ella hadn't noticed that I'd stopped pushing, as she continued to move from her own momentum. But Lucas saw.
His warm brown eyes flittered across my face, before they darted towards the trees. When the shadow moved back, I could almost hear the sound of grass blades snapping under heavy footsteps, the sound crisp in my mind.
My instincts reacted, and I moved in front of Ella, hiding her from view. She gasped, her feet planting on the ground so until she skidded to a halt. “Rose! Almost hit you!”
I dimly heard Lucas tell her that it was going to rain soon and we should get back home before it started. She argued that she was wearing wellies, but Lucas put his hands on his hips and waited. She was grumbling as she took his hand and jumped out of the seat.
“Don’t want bath," she admitted to him as they waited for me. My eyes were glued to the space the shadow had once been, until I felt a tug on my sleeve. Ella looked up at me and pouted. “Going now, Rose.”
I reached down, my fingers wrapping around her hand as I willed myself to look away from the trees.
I was tense the entire journey home.
I kept an eye out for anything – a shadow, a movement - that stood out and screamed danger, danger. Lucas attempted to distract me with some story about a mate he’d met in his first year of college, but I knew that he was looking too. We both held on to Ella's hand, both instinctually protecting her without any need for communication.
Later that evening, after Ella had gone to bed, and mum had fallen asleep on the sofa, Lucas cornered me in the kitchen.
"It was probably nothing."
His whisper held a certain desperation that was almost undetectable. If I hadn't known him for so long, I wouldn't have known he was nervous. "Or maybe, it was just a person walking."
I didn't believe him, but I nodded anyway.
But Lucas was no fool, and whilst I could see through him, he could also see through me. He sighed. His arms wrapped around my shoulders and his lips pressed to my temple. "Just promise me, that if anything suspicious does happen you'll call me. Promise me, Rose."
I buried my nose into his fluffy mop of hair, the scent of cinnamon calming my nerves. "I promise," I mumbled. "I’ll tell you right away."
That was the only promise that I'd ever broken.
It was the one promise that I should have kept.
ns 15.158.61.41da2
