Army:
The italics are the lyrics of the song 'Army' by Ellie Goulding, thought it fitted with Carchelle's friendship.
"You know that I've been messed up." I clench my fist tightly, before letting it ache back into its original position. I move my stiff fingers to forcefully wipe the tears back from my cheek, but she was there first, her touch a lot softer, the curved edges of her fingernails slowly grazing my skin. "You never let me give up."
All the nights and the fights and the blood and the break ups.
"Let me clear your arm up, please Carla." She begs, her eyes moving to the digital clock on her side table. 1am.
All the nights.
"Don't touch me." I jolt away, my eyes fixated on hers, scared even though her look was warming, soothing, safe. She had no idea what she was doing in this world, she hated me, but for some reason she was sat here now.
And the fights.
"You need to clean it." She whispers, her eyes moving across the torn flesh, smeared in blood. My attempts at bandaging up the scars on my thighs was exhibit A on why I should not be a doctor. Alongside the poor grades, the health records and my own lack of consideration for other people's feelings. 'What do you want to be when you grow up?' 'A doctor'. Some dream. She moves towards me, softly, barely pressing the cloth to my skin before I wince in pain, blood invading the material immediately, like an army of emotion that had finally been set free.
And the blood.
"...I should have listened to you." I murmur, she doesn't move her eyes from my wounds. She could be a doctor, easily, if she didn't so desperately want to be a singer. She cared, she had the potential, if only I hadn't fucked her up. If only this estate hadn't fucked her up. "You told me he would."
"So are you two over then?" She dares to ask, still not meeting my gaze. I could virtually see the lump in her throat, the disturbance in her expression. Either at seeing something so horrific, or at seeing something so horrific implanted on my flesh.
"I don't need men." I shrug, forcing a smile, but it isn't forced when she returns it, the outline of her lips creasing to create a shape that filled me with warmth, safety and protection.
And the break-ups.
"You're fourteen." She giggles slightly, patting my arm down with a new dry towel.
"Yeah and most fourteen year olds would be fan-girling over boy bands and stressing over which shade of eye shadow they wouldn't be made to remove at school." I tell her, my voice wavering at my attempt at a joke. "...Can I stay?"
"For as long as you want." She replies, the answer I always receive. No matter how inconvenient or annoying I am. That would always be the response I'd get.
You're always there to call up.
"I'm pregnant." The words slip from my mouth, as I hold the shaking pregnancy test in one hand, the phone in the other.
"This is a joke right?" I hear Carla's hesitated reply from the other end of the line, not wanting to believe me yet, even though we both knew it, we had both known for months.
"...I wish it was." I squeeze my eyes shut, the tears stinging as if they were poison on burning flesh when they slide down my cheeks.
"Does Dean know?" She asks, another question which makes my stomach flip.
"No..." I pause. "How am I supposed to tell him?"
"Well maybe you don't have to?" She suggests, and as appealing as this idea sounds, I know what she's hinting at.
I'm a pain, I'm a child, I'm afraid.
"Sorry, I'm a pain." I mutter, sliding down the wall slightly, desperate for a drink. "I'm sure you've got much more important things to do with your time."
"Yeah and I'm sure you did when I needed you all those times." She points out. "But I always came first, for some reason."
"...I'm still a child." I whisper, the word playing on my tongue. "Carla, I'm fifteen... I'm fifteen and I'm going to have a baby."
"So you are gonna have it then?" She answers almost automatically and I nod before realising she couldn't hear that.
"I've got to..." I mumble, dropping the test on the floor as it gives a slight clatter. "I'm so afraid..."
"I know." She whispers, her voice crackling as I dig my nails into my knee. I was so stupid. I was such a stupid child. I'm a pain. I'm a child. I'm afraid.
I know that we don't look like much, but no one fucks it up like us.
"Sixteen." She sighs, stroking her finger over the newborn's soft cheek. "And you never even judged me."
"Why would I?" I sit on the hospital bed, my eyes darting from her exhausted expression, to the squirming, bright red lump that lay in the cot beside her. I was never having kids, not ever. But I didn't think now was the time to voice this.
"I don't know... I thought you'd ditch me once you found out." She shrugs, not wanting to make eye contact with me. "I'm surprised you didn't a long time ago."
"Why?" I question her, my eyes burning the side of her face.
"Because I was pathetic..." She stifles a laugh, and she finally looks at me, my eyes meet hers; her sea green eyes, which only ever portrayed love or hurt, and never anything in between. "Matter of fact, I always thought you were too cool for me."
"Me?" I scoff, and she laughs at herself, slightly embarrassed. Clearly giving birth made her soppy and emotional, which was something we rarely were... Well, that's what everyone thought.
"Didn't want your ego to implode." She digs at me. "Tatty school uniform, fighting off all the little shits in the playground."
"Yeah that's not cool, that's intimidating." I correct her.
"Alright well, I was naive." She defends herself and her eyes soften at this, because we both knew she was. "I am naive... How am I going to raise a baby? With dad's operation and Paul moving out? School, I'm gonna need to get a job-"
"Chelle." I place a hand on her leg, soothing her. "I'll help you."
Sitting there in the caravan.
"Kill joy." Liam eyes Carla up, taking another gulp of vodka before pulling himself up, the floor of the caravan creaking beneath us.
"You going to bed?" I ask him and he nods, stumbling towards the doorframe. "I reckon this'll be the last time we're all here."
"Good riddance." Carla scoffs and I shoot her a look. "What? Johnny and Lou drag me and Rob to this scuzzy caravan so my mother can drink herself to death alone for another night. We're not even family."
"You are to me." I say, automatically and she squeezes my hand before grabbing the almost empty bottle of vodka and drinking deeply from it, offering it to me to do the same.
"You'll be eighteen soon anyway." She shrugs. "We can get drunk every night."
"We already do." I smile at her, and she gives a slight laugh. "All the nights we've been drunk on the floor..."
"Up 'til the early hours." She reminisces, and for once she looks content, staring intently out of the grotty caravan window, where the stars were glinting in the sky. "Don't you ever think... About all the people out there? Living their lives, lives we will never know about, each one different, a past, a present, a future... Someone is being born, someone is dying, someone is receiving news that they have a deadly illness, someone is being proposed to... It's crazy, the way the world works. To revolve around each individual person, what? Seven billion in the world? Every life holds a different story. All the lives that have existed before us, the reason we're here... Mores the pity."
"...Wow." I stutter slightly, shocked at her sudden revelation. "Stop drinking please, you're supposed to be dumb."
"Yeah when it comes to Pythagoras theorems or personification." She shrugs. "But that's not the important stuff, we're two of the smartest people on this earth. Know why? Because we're still here... After everything. You're a mother, I barely have a mother... Still living, existing. We managed to pull through, somehow."
Dark times.
"At least we'll be sisters in law." Michelle shrugs, flashing me a grin as we lean up against the brick wall outside the club.
"You can always find the bright side." I laugh, inhaling on the cigarette before passing it to her. "My mother said I'd never get married... Then again my mother said I'd be dead before my fifth birthday so..."
"Well then you proved her wrong." She links her fingers with mine, cold as they hang loosely between the two of us. "Here, you finish it."
"I'm amazed at the things you would sacrifice." I grin, taking it from her and taking a deep drag.
"Was that sarcastic Carla Donovan?" She gives me a look. "Because I'd like to think I've sacrificed a lot over the years."
"Yeah I'm kidding." I nudge her playfully. "And it'll be Carla Connor soon."
"You'll be a part of the family officially then." She winks.
"Anything is better than being related to a drug dealing alcoholic and a... Oh wait don't know my dad." I roll my eyes and she squeezes my hand.
"Just to be there for me, love me, never give up on me." Carla smiles at me, looking gorgeous in her wedding dress; white, how ironic.
"Steady on, you haven't married me." I grin, fiddling with the corsage on my arm. "You look beautiful today."
"As do you." She runs a finger through one of my ringlets. "Best bridesmaid I could have."
"We're sisters now, officially." I prompt her and it makes me smile, I felt so accepted, for the first time ever, I actually saw that I had a future.
2006:
"Is that everything?" I watch as Liam and Paul load up the boot of Michelle's car, pretending I was helping when I really wasn't.
"Should be." Michelle shrugs, gazing at me. "It's only a short car journey."
"You'll take care of yourself, yeah?" I take her hand, out of ear shot of her brothers. She was moving to a town called Weatherfield, she'd seen an advert to be a singer in a new band, and was heading there to try out.
"I always do." She kisses me on the cheek.
"Good luck." I tell her. "Show them how you cringe when you sing out of tune."
"I'm hoping I won't sing out of tune!" She exclaims. "This could be my dream come true."
"I know." I nod. "And you've earned it, I'll see you really soon."
"Promise." She whispers, squeezing my hand a final time before slipping into the drivers seat of the car.
2016:
When I'm with you, I'm standing in an army.
"Sure about this?" I whisper, my eyes brimming with tears.
"Carla?" Aidan calls, but we ignore him. "You were due at the airport ten minutes ago!"
"I need to get out of here." She tells me, trying to force back tears. "And I know I've said that year after year. But, this street, this town has done enough damage to me... Raped, held hostage, deceased husbands, fires, crashes, enemies, affairs, false accusations... Real accusations... It's time for me to move on, finally, it's time to let it all go."
"Don't go making any friends who mean as much to you as I do." I manage a laugh, tears spilling from my eyes.
"Never." She slowly brushes them away, grazing my cheek softly, the way I had done all those years ago, when the scars were visible. Now they couldn't be seen, but they were there, and so many more of them than had been back then. "I promise you."
"Look after yourself." I beg her. "If you feel like you're slipping, I'm a phone call away."
"I love you, Chelle." I squeeze her hand, before pulling her into a big hug. "Thank you for everything."
"Thank you for being the sister I never had." I whisper in her ear, and it feels like we never let each other go, but we do, and we did.
But even when we're thousands of miles apart, we're still right next to one another.
We're standing in an army.