About three hours later, still tired but unable to sleep any more, Mark stumbled out of his room. He was surprised to see Ellie
, who had been so close to death only hours ago, sitting up on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest and apparently very lost in thought.
He cleared his throat, and she jumped about a mile. She looked scared, but almost immediately her fear turned to anger. She lashed out.
"Look, I have no idea who you are, but you don't need to help me, ok? I'm not your cause, and I can take care of myself." She might have gone on, but she was stopped by her own hacking cough. She eased back into the couch cushions, looking spent.
Anyone else might have gotten angry at her completely ungrateful attitude, but Mark just looked sad. Her outburst had only reaffirmed his certainty the he could help this girl. He sat down on the couch, next to her but not too close.
"My name is Mark," he offered. "I live here, with my friend Roger. My friends and I found you in the alley last night pretty near death."
"Then you should have let me died!" She exclaimed. She began to cry quietly.
"None of us wanted to do that." He left it at that. "If I tell you about myself and my friends, then will you tell me about yourself?" He was trying hard to reach out here, and not just slip back into detached filmmaker mode.
"You're not going to let me leave, are you?" She said, brushing her tears away forcefully. She hugged the blankets closer as she had started to shake again. "Fine. Enlighten me."
"Well, like I said, I'm Mark. I like to film things, I guess you could call it my job. Angel is the one who found you last night. He… er, she… well, Angel is with my friend Collins. Roger is a songwriter, and my roommate. His girlfriend, Mimi, lives downstairs. She's the one who got you cleaned up."
Ellie's minimal reaction was to pull the sleeves of the borrowed shirt down over her fingers. Mark continued. "Mimi is a dancer, at the Catscratch Club. Maureen is my ex-girlfriend, and Joanne is her girlfriend. Joanne is also a lawyer. We thought she might be able to help you…" No reaction from Elisha.
"Also, Roger, Mimi, Collins, and Angel are HIV positive." At this, Ellie's eyes flew up to meet Mark's. Her teary eyes held the gaze for a second, then averted.
Mark knew he had to tread carefully now if he wanted her to open up to him.
"You have AIDS, don't you?" He asked, in the kindest tone he could.
"I don't know" She whispered. She really didn't, she hadn't been tested. But it was possible. How astute this Mark guy was.
"Your turn," Mark said. "How old are you, Ellie?"
"17."
"Do you have parents?" This elicited a small nod of affirmation. "Don't you think they're worried? How long have you been missing?"
"They don't- they can't- know I'm missing." She muttered. Mark looked confused. "I go… er, went… to NYU." She tried to elaborate.
"Wow. You're 17 and already in college? You must be pretty smart." Ellie shrugged off the compliment.
"My parents think I'm at school, and people at school think I'm home visiting my parents. That's what I told them anyway. This way, no one knows I screwed up. They still think I'm perfect," she finished in a whisper.
Mark's heart was breaking for this girl. God, he certainly knew how it felt to think of everyone else's feelings first. How frustrating and tiring it could get. She had definitely covered all her bases before disappearing… but why did she feel the need to disappear at all?
"You wanna tell me why you ran away?" Mark asked. "Mimi saw your scars, you know," he offered as a starting point. She didn't look at him, but he saw a tear fall from her face to the blanket.
Her breathing was starting to sound labored. There was a long pause. Just when Mark was thinking she had shut off, that she wasn't going to answer any more questions, she said softly "I did it myself. I cut myself." She looked up now, expectantly, seeming to think Mark was going to looked shocked or freaked out, maybe even kick her out.
"You shouldn't do that to yourself." He simply said.
She gave a bitter laugh. "Are you going to lecture me?" She was now in full defensive mode. She'd been through this crap before, psychiatrists, therapists, anything her parents could buy to "fix" their little girl.
"No, I'm not going to lecture you," Mark said simply. "That would make me a hypocrite."
