The Empty House

Chapter One: Fighting, again.

We were fighting again.

Our screams and curses echoed throughout the household, carried by the silence of the sleeping mother missing her little boy.

I was surprised we didn't wake her; but I think she's used to it by now.

We we're always fighting; but it didn't always use to be this way. We were happy, and in love. But when Will was found missing, an explosion of heavy emotions and arguing soon followed.

There was no sense in having a relationship while your little brother is missing, or possibly dead.

But it didn't matter; we wanted to stick it out. I hoped that I could help him through this tragic time, and hopefully his brother would turn up, but it's been days. His emotions were wrecked from dealing with his hysterical mother, and all the folks in town sticking their noses in where they didn't belong.

Then there was me; our relationship. He began to get short with me, avoiding me, or pushing me aside while he tried to save his household. I understood it would be challenging, and I can't really blame him for being upset during this time, but I wanted to help him, not end our nights screaming at each other.

I wasn't expecting much from him during this, but I was still expecting him to be my boyfriend.

"You're impossible!" He shouted, "How can I possibly deal with you and your drama when Will is missing?! My mother is losing her fucking mind and everyone thinks she's crazy, but all you seem to care about is when we're sleeping together again!"

I retreated.

That wasn't true, at all. Especially since we've never slept together.

"That isn't true, Jonathan. I care about Will and your mother as much as you do! I just want to help you, but you won't let me! You never let me in, or even tell me where you are half the time, so what am I supposed to think? One of these days you'll just wind up dead and I'd have no idea!"

"I don't need your help! Our relationship doesn't even matter to me right now. My house is covered in my mother's crazy ramblings and there's holes in the walls! I've been spending every day trying to convince her that Will isn't living in the walls, and trying to keep the police from locking mom up in a mental institution!"

This wasn't Jonathan. He was never the loud type, or the type to swear, especially at a woman. When I met him, he was quiet and kind, worrying about the well-being of everyone else, before himself. Whenever we fought like this, I'd like to believe that everything he's saying is just out of anger, and that he doesn't actually feel this way about us.

I sucked in a breath, and finally released the inevitable;

"If our relationship is no longer important to you, then maybe there shouldn't be one."

"Oh, there you go again; only concerned about the relationship!" He flopped down on the bed that stood beside us and let out a heavy sigh. I didn't move, afraid of another outburst.

"Maybe you're right," he finally said, "maybe there shouldn't be one."

My heart began to pound, echoing in my chest and out of my ears. Those words coming from him caused a long wave of numbness to wash over my body.

I didn't want this; he didn't want this.

I was scared. I loved Jonathan. I didn't want to be alone.

I just wanted to help.

My body felt prickly.

"Is it over?" I asked, not wanting to beat around the bush. If it was over, I needed to know now, and I needed to never associate with Jonathan again.

I glanced over to the bed. Jonathan laid on his back, his head against the wall. He sniffed quietly, wiping his cheeks where I knew tears had fallen to.

I knew he didn't want this. So why was this happening? Where did it all go wrong?

An eternity of silence went by, or at least it felt that way, before he finally spoke again.

"Evelyn, I love you," he sat up and grasped my hand. His palm felt clammy.

I turned to face him. Tears began to threaten me as well, but I was stronger than he was, at least at the moment. Someone had to be.

"I love you too." I choked.

He pulled me down to his level and pressed his lips to mine. I heard the pain in his breath; I knew it was over.

When he finally pulled back, he didn't bother hiding the toll this had on him. Every little emotion escaped through his breath, his voice, and most importantly, his eyes.

Jonathan Byers was crying; and I couldn't help him. Not this time.

"I'm so sorry. I love you so much. But you're right, it should end. We aren't healthy for each other, and it's not the same as it was before. I have to commit all of my time to trying to find my brother and helping my mother. I don't think we're good for each other anymore."

That's all I needed to hear, and much more than I wanted. I silently nodded and pulled my hand from his. He didn't try to stop me or even bother to look at me.

I left.

"I'm sorry," I heard him whisper as I walked out the door.