Chapter 11: Holding on to smoke
„I'm tired of feeling comatose
I've lost the me that I loved most
I'm barely holding on to smoke
I'm barely holding on to smoke
I'm just the me that I have not met
Choking in silence on the words left unsaid
I feel a sickness for a home I've never been
And I exist in black and white but now I'm seeing red
I built a shelter in complacency
Locked myself in and set fire and threw away the key
So scared to live and I'm afraid to die
So am I living or am I just alive?" Holding on to Smoke, Motionless in White
She goes back after the fire is out. It's all ash now. Burnt wood and debris. The remains of her book, she used to read there. Scarps of shirts, broken and melted CD's. a burnt cat bed. She picks it up. Looks around. No trace of a body. But it could be buried under the debris. She feels tears well up in her eyes. Angers, sadness, loss. The book had been a gift from a teacher who retired. She liked Natalia and two often discussed literature. Now gone. The cat was unexpected but she rather enjoyed it's company. The house was a special place both to her, to Natalia and to Lucy. Could she not keep a single thing she held dear? Was she destined to lose anything and everything that was of value and comfort to her? Anyone she knew.
There is a soft meow. She turns. Eyes blurry. Something moves closer. Licks her face. Purrs. She hugs the cat. Holds it in her arms. Picks it up and carries it back to the car. Barry looks shocked. Sees her crying and says nothing.
She missed school but nobody seemed to object to it. Kathy is rather happy about the cat. Alex insists that the padlock stays. It was Lucy's cat. It will stay the way she left it. Cid walks around the house inspecting things. Alex feels tired, drained. The pain, the loss, the dreams. Looking in the mirror she sees herself, not the way she is. The way she was. A dying woman. The image scares her. Even now nothing has changed. She is still feeling like she is dying inside. Then comes the feeling of rage. At herself, at the world, at how helpless she is. She wants to scream, to break things. She wasn't always this helpless. They tried to suppress her, to control her. But she found her ways. Her cruel little pleasures, her escapes, ways to break the rules, to rebel.
It's a pack of hair dye Lucy left since Halloween. It's the red she never ended up using. Alex spreads it on the tips of her hair. The blond hair now turning red halfway. Like blood, like fire. Like war. Bright, aggressive red. Danger. A warning to stay away. She is rather pleased with it. It not like her at all. It's bright, loud, screaming. She always stayed quiet, obedient, did what she was told. But inside she was a storm ready to hit full force. Now she is no longer going to hold back.
There may be no hope of saving her old life. Continuing her work. His work. But she doesn't care anymore. She is still alive. She can start again. But, deep down, she wonders if she should. This a chance to live life free of the past. What it could have been if Umbrella had never interfered. She could pretend to be Natalia. Barry and Kathy seemed to love her, at least while they thought of her as Natalia. Kathy tries to cheer her up. Barry does too, in his own way."
"I'm sure they will catch whoever did it." He says." Setting fire to private property, and this close to a school!"
She says nothing. She knows who did it. Eliot. He had been attempting to bully her the past week. But she ignored him. Did it make him that angry? Was he that desperate to hurt her? It almost made her laugh. Losing the house did, surprisingly, hurt. But nothing could hurt quite as bad as losing him did. Not even some of the things Spencer put her through. She could not act against Spencer. But nothing can stop her from acting against Eliot.
It's raining. Her clothes are black. She used to wear white, because it looked clean, pure, because in the lab everything is that color. It becomes a habit. She didn't particularly like it. It was ingrained into her. Since they were children in the orphanage. All wearing white. For the first time in her life she casts aside. She chose black. His color. The color of death, grief, emptiness. She grieves him in her heart every day. Holds the black umbrella in her left as she searches with her eyes. Reaches in to the pocket of the black wool coat. Lucy's bracelet. She holds in her hand. Wraps it around her knuckles. The metal studs covering the outside of her black gloves.
She sees him. Eliot. Him and his dumb friends. Smoking in a narrow alley between buildings. They don't notice her. She feel the rush, the desire to hurt. Runs. Ready to strike. The umbrella falls to the ground. Her fist connects with the boy's face. The metal studs leaving an imprint that begins to bleed. He falls to the ground. Looks at her stunned. She gives his friends a look of rage and termination. The boys turn and run. She aims a kick at his shoulder before he can get up.
"Ouch" Eliot tries to back away, crawling on the ground.
"Oh, no you don't." She picks up the umbrella." Not after what you did!"
He stops.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to." Hands raised, covering his face.
She aims another kick, somewhere a lot lower. He falls on his side, curls up in pain.
"It's the truth" he coughs. "Hoffman. He made me."
"Why would Hoffman- a teacher, have you burn down school property?" she doesn't believe him.
"I don't know.. Whatever you did to him… he's the one who mane come after you. Jones and Davis too."
She points the tip of the umbrella between his legs. He looks like he's about to cry.
"If you're lying to me!"
"I swear it's the truth. Look, I know it's hard to believe but I don't go after people like this. I'm not a bully. He said he would hold me back and I've already been held back last year. I fail again I'm getting expelled. "
"Alright then. If what you said is true. Then I want you to testify against him."
There is a look of shock on his face.
"You want me to go to the police?"
"I will find the evidence and you will act as witness to support it. If what you said is true that there should be no problem."
"Yeah, alright. "
She is skeptical about Eliot's story but he really doesn't have a reason to be going after her like this. He and Lucy had some history. Off course simply being seen as her friend could have been enough. But Hoffman was creep and putting him in his place would be her pleasure. So the put her phone on sound record mode when she went to one of her private lessons.
"I am glad you are unharmed. I recall you and Miss Jones spending time in that old shed."
Already bringing up the fire. She really wondered if he was responsible.
"I did" She says dropping the coldness in her voice." It was a special place for Lucy and me."
Hoffman wanted her to be vulnerable so she would give him a taste.
"I'm so sorry. First loosing you friend, now this. I will make sure that the one who did it gets punished."
She looks over at him from the painting.
"You say that as if you knew who did it." Curiosity in her voice.
"Yes, actually. I happened to see someone flying from the scene." He gestures to the window that opens to the forest where the shed used to be. But one could not see the shed. Too many trees in the way.
"Who was it?" she looks at him, expectantly
"Well it's only my assumption after all but I believe it was Mr. Brown. You probably know him as Eliot." He said, noticing her confused expression.
The fact that he brought up Eliot was strange. But he could have seen him run from the fire, the windows did open up to that side. She needed to push Hoffman to get a straight answer.
"Eliot was bullying Lucy. " She says.
"Yes, that is unfortunate." Hoffman says. "I've been trying to set him straight but some people seem to be beyond help. But he won't be troubling you or anyone else."
"I never said that he was bullying me." She responds, interest now piqued.
He once again behind her. Close. She can feel his breath on her neck.
"Students talk you know. People notice these things. And I will not stand by while someone is treated in such a way."
She doesn't recall there being any other students around when she had her run inns with Eliot and his friends.
"You are talented, gifted, and special." Hoffman continues.
These words seem awfully familiar. She had been called that. Made to believe she was. By someone else.
"All men are not made equal. There will always be those that are superior to others. You are one of the privileged."
"You consider yourself privileged?" She almost burst out laughing.
"Naturally. "He places a hand on her hip.
She tenses. But doesn't make a move.
"So does being privileged give you the right to harass your students?"
He pulls away.
"Don't take this wrong way."
"What way should I take it." She turns, glares at him. "Because it seem to me that you think you have the right to whatever you please with your students. For example making them bully others or commit arson of school property."
"Where did you hear that?"
"A little bird told me."
"Eliot." Hoffman laughs".
"So you won't even deny it." She says.
"I admit I didn't expect him to take it this far."
"But you admit that you told him to set the shed on fire?"
"Well what was I supposed to do? You're making this awfully difficult." He moves closer to her.
Pins her against the easel.
"Really?! You're going to have your way with me right here? I'll scream!" she threatens.
He backs away.
"Don't misunderstand this. I was speaking about your artistic talents. Trying to bring them out. Many artists have created their greatest masterpieces while suffering great loss and misery. I merely want you to use your talents."
Alex moves her hand into her pocket, turns off the recording.
"Oh believe me, I am. "
The bell rings. She walks out of class. Eliot is waiting for her outside.
"Let's go she says."
They walk to the parking lot where Eliot's car is. She sits in the passenger seat on the way to the police station. The officer listens to the recording. Skeptical. Eliot tells his story. The man questions about the bruise on his face. He says it was a fight with a friend he had. Another officer comes in. They are asked to leave. Waiting seems to take hours. People whisper about her: isn't that one of those girls? Wasn't her dad involved in arresting the Davis family? She is quite famous. The thought had never occurred to her, that these incidents would become well known.
Finally an officer approaches them. Barry is coming to the station, since they couldn't get a hold of Eliot's parents. His dad being a sailor. Finger prints on the can found at the scene did match Eliot's but there was another set of unidentified prints and if they matched Hoffman they could arrest him. Barry gives her a questioning look. She says nothing.
"Why is becoming a trend to have to pick you up at the police?"
She sigs.
"Didn't they explain things? It's about the fire at school."
Barry sighs.
"I know it's hard on you. But don't let your little adventure go to your head. You are a little girl. Not some super hero. You shouldn't get involved in these matters any further. "
She wants to tell him off. To push back, to argue.
"This one's personal" She says. "
Barry sighs again.
Eliot leaves on the excuse of work. The police go to the school. Hoffman refuses to come along quietly and give his finger prints. So they arrest him. A mass of students watch him get dragged out and escorted to the car. Alex stands there watching with a hand on her hip and a smug expression on her face.
The next day it's clear that Hoffman was involved. His fingerprints were a match for the ones fond on the container Eliot used. Other students started to come out with similar stories of being threatened into doing things. And all the charges of sexual harassment from the female students. He would remain arrested to prevent him from interfering with the gathering of the evidence. Until a solid case would be built against him.
Alex had to repeat her story several times now. Coming and going from the station. She was just leaving when she saw Hoffman being escorted to be detained elsewhere. He noticed her. The smile on his face was sickening.
"Well. I'd hate to spoil you victory but I guess your friend is going to die. Since I won't be there to care for her anymore."
"What?" she wanted to run after him but the police got in the way. They were showing him the car.
What friend? Did he mean Lucy? There was no one else it could be. But Lucy was far away now. She had escaped. Alex had set her free. She had saved her. Didn't she?
