A/N: Hey, here's the second chapter, I finished it so I thought I might as well post it now. I don't really have a update schedule at the minute so I'll just post them whenever, unless I get any reviews any reviews asking for more chapters. Anyway here's chapter 2.
Chapter 2
I watch the tiny modes of dust dance in the sunlight streaming through my window. I've been doing this for a few hours, I woke up around 8, breathing heavily and covered in a cold sweat. I stayed awake after that, listening for signs of life around the house. Despite their early morning Ella and Edward are the first ones up, sometime around 9 I hear them making coffee and talking about the news and what their plans on for today. Next up is Logan at around half past, which is no surprise, and although he is younger than his brother, he is more mature. Brennan, much like me, still has yet to make an appearance. I push myself forward into a sitting position and glance around the room, I didn't get much chance to look at it earlier this morning for obvious reasons. But looking at it now I can't help but think it's perfect for me.
My bed sits in the middle of the room with the headboard pushed up against the back wall, sitting here on the bed, the door leading out to the hallway is to my left and to my right are two French doors, spaced out so they have enough room in between them to nestle a white rustic styled chest of draws. All the furniture also inhabits this style, from the bookcase to the desk, the bedside tables to the door of my walk in wardrobe. My bed is a wrought iron frame that gives the room an elegant vintage look. From what I can see the French doors lead out to what could only be a balcony, and are covered with white mesh curtains that sway slightly in the wind.
Directly across from my bed, there is a large stone fireplace that looks warm and inviting even now as it's sat dormant. I can almost imagine curling up in front of it when we're in the deep of winter and the whole town is covered in a blanket of snow. Snow. The smile I was wearing quickly fades as I'm reminded of my dream. Nightmare. Whatever it was. I sit there looking around my room, but I can't find it in myself to be in awe of the room again, not now that I remember my dream.
I'm still sat there when I hear a knock on my door. "Come in" I call, breaking out of my trance. The door opens with an eerie creak, but maybe that's just me and my depressed mood. The person sticks their head in the gap made and I let out a sigh of relief. It's just Logan, with the same mop of brown hair and same blue-green eyes that remind me of the sea. The same old responsible, shy, awkward Logan that I heard so many stories about and seen so many pictures of. This is the reason I wanted to come live with the Clarks in the first place. First of all they're practically my family and they don't expect anything from me, that's why I had to leave, because everyone expected me to remember, and I just couldn't live up to that expectation. Secondly, as much as I love them, I don't have too many memories of them to remember. I mean we were living on opposite sides of the country and because we're not biological family, we only really saw each other on really special occasions.
"Hey" he said with a shy smile, "How you doing?"
"Great!" maybe that was a little too enthusiastic, "Well, all things considered" I added at Logan's disbelieving look. He gave me a sympathetic smile.
"Don't do that." His face scrunched in confusion.
"Do what?" he asked
"Give me sympathy. I don't want sympathy. I'm sick of sympathy! I want normalcy, Logo! That's the whole reason I came here." I exclaimed halfheartedly. A feeling of pride rushed through me as one of the corners of Logan's mouth quirked up in his signature crooked smile, probably at my use of his old nickname I gave him. Brennan told me about it on the phone. This was a side of Logan few people got see, the side of him where he really came out of his shell, I felt honored to be one of the few who get to witness it.
Logan opened his mouth to respond when a huge crash echoed through the halls from one of the bedrooms.
"You came to the wrong place for normalcy, Eves" he muttered. Now it was my turn to scrunch my face in confusion. What was he talking about? I was about to ask this question aloud, when I understood.
"PIXIE!" I heard his deep, bellowing voice before I saw him. All I can see is a blur of a charcoal muscle shirt and what looks fire engine pajama bottoms, before I see Logan get slammed to the floor and I feel the impact of a large muscular body hitting me at what feels like somewhere around 30 miles per hour. I'm knocked back onto the bed by the impact and pinned down by a crushing weight, for a while all I can see is the black of his t-shirt until he pulls back revealing the baby face that belongs to Brennan. His bright blue eyes are sparkling with delight and his mischievous grin puts his dimples on full show. Like Logan, he looks the same as he did in all the photos I saw, with his cropped brown hair that's so short it looks black. Even as I'm being flattened by his mammoth weight I can't help but smile, Brennan is Brennan, he's hard not to get along with. Over his shoulder I see Logan picking himself off the ground, he looks annoyed but I know that even he can't stay mad at Brennan for long.
I look between and can see why people don't realize they were both adopted and from different families too. With their brown hair and blue eyes people assume they were biological brothers, but that's a false misconception. Ella and Edward thought that since Ella's body wasn't fit to carry a baby, instead of trying primary alternative solutions like a surrogate, they went straight into adoption. Which I think is pretty amazing, I mean with a total of four hundred and eight thousand, four hundred and twenty five, children living in the foster system right now, why not adopt? Anyway Brennan was adopted first when he was really young, still a baby even, and Ella and Edward looked solely after Brennan for about a year before deciding they wanted to adopt again. This was where Logan was brought in, he was adopted when he was just a few months old, so there's a little over a year between the two of them.
Finally the need for oxygen gets too much.
"Brennan, could you, err,-" I get cut off by a cough from my withering lungs.
"Oopps, sorry squirt" I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my chest, literally.
We stay like that for a few hours, just talking and reminiscing, well they reminisce. Eventually Ella comes to get us for brunch, as we walk down the stairs I can't help but be in awe of everything I see. As soon as I leave my room, I'm greeted by a long corridor lined with framed photos, telling the stories of their life, capturing the most genuine of moments. A little further down the corridor, to my left, there's a closed door and another as well on my right. It's the same layout at the end of the corridor as well, except in between the doors on the left there's an open space where the stairs stand. Winding down in an elaborate mixture of wood and wrought iron, winding and twisting, curving into the center of the room as it descends. It leads directly into the entry hall, a large square room with huge, ceiling to floor windows and some kind of door or opening on every wall. When I reach the bottom, there is a curved opening to my left which I think leads to some kind of hallway and to my right is another opening, identical to first except this one leads directly to a family room. On the wall behind the stair case there is a large square opening that takes up a good third of the wall, this opening leads to the kitchen, where I can see Ella setting the table for brunch.
The kitchen, like the rest of the house, is amazing. Everything's black and white except for small, appliances or décor items, which are an animated lime green colour, giving the room an eccentric atmosphere. Room is almost a perfect rectangle except for at the leftmost side of the back wall which sticks out in a smooth curve of a semi-circle, which takes up around a third of the wall, curving all the way round into the left corner. The wall of the semi-circle is lined with white cabinets with black counter tops, and a breakfast bar continues straight from the curve out into the middle of the room, separating that part of the kitchen from the rest of the room. In the center of the area created is an island matching the same colour scheme as the other cabinets. The base of the island is a mixture of cabinets, draws and bookcases that display a variety of cook books, showing Ella's love for cooking.
On the right side of the room sits a large, round glass table, surrounded by six black chairs with white leather seat pads. The entire back wall, including the semi-circle is either lined with large windows or big French doors, which not only bathes the room in gorgeous march sunlight, but also displays the beautiful picture of the Clarks backyard. The porch sticks out for a few feet before there are steps leading down on to the garden. I can tell even from inside that Ella takes great pride in how the garden looks, and she should, seeing as it is absolutely magnificent. When the steps end they are met by a concrete square engulfed in the grass, these are placed at regular intervals creating a path winding around the garden, past flowers of varying looks planted in raised flower beds with low stone walls. The path winds off into the woods, making me wonder what is out there, I'll have to explore later. I sit down at the table with Brennan on my left and Logan to my right.
"Did Dad leave for work already?" Logan asked looking up at his mother who was bringing over the last few plates.
"Yeah, he has, he got called in a bit earlier than usual, so he'll be home a bit earlier." Uncle Ed is chief of surgery at Sacred Heart Medical Center, he has been for a few years now. Before he got offered that job he was a neurologist, which was part of the reason I was allowed to live with them, at least someone would know what's going on with my brain. I look across the table and see five places have been set. I don't understand, if Ed's gone to work who's the fifth place for? My confusion must have been evident on my face because Logan follows my gaze and answers my question.
"Brennan invited his girlfriend, he's convinced you'll be best friends by the end of the week." Before I can reply, I hear the doorbell and Brennan practically sprints from the room, nearly knocking me off my chair.
"Sorry, Eves" I just shake my head and chuckle. I hear him open the door and can two voices, the deep, familiar voice of Brennan and a foreign voice, slightly higher. I turn in my seat as I hear them enter the room and my first thought is that she is absolutely stunning. She wears red stiletto heels paired with blue jeans and a loose white vest top, all topped off with a cropped blazer matching the colour of her shoes. Her golden hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, but I can tell that it's extremely long and matches perfectly to her tanned skin, she wears little make up, except for some black mascara that make her stormy grey eyes stand out and red lipstick.
She releases Brennan's hand and hugs Ella, they exchange a few words but they're too far away for me to hear. When they release each other she resumes her place at Brennan's side and looks towards Logan and me at the table.
"Hey Logan" she smiles, he replies with a nod.
"Ana, this is Evie. Evie, this is my girlfriend, Anastasia." Brennan states with a proud smile. I see Anastasia walk towards me so, I get out of my seat so I'm standing. I swear in my head when I realize how short my barely five foot self looks next to her model height. She pulls me in for a hug, which I go onto my tip toes for so I don't look so small. Unfortunately Logan is close enough to see what I'm doing and starts laughing at me, so I kick his chair before anyone can notice.
"It's nice to meet you, Anastasia." I say as we both pull back.
"You too, Evie. But then again I feel like I already know you, Brennan hasn't shut up talking about it since we found out you were coming." She responds, a slight smirk pulling at her red lips and a mischievous light sparking in her eyes. I just respond with a laugh. Brennan may have been right after all, I think we'll get along just fine.
The room is dark. There is only a little light, in the form of a small yellow circle in the center of the abandoned room, created by a single light bulb. Unstable, wooden chairs lay strewn around the area, and in the middle, directly under the sole beacon of light, sits a table. Old and wooden, marred with scars. Covered with scratches and dents, cracks and large gauges.
At the table, sits a figure, completely alone, the only thing that contradicts the isolation. He takes a deep breath in, the distinctive smell of rats and rusty nails fill his senses but it's too familiar to bother him. And of course there's the ever present smell of burning plastic that lingers after every smoke, the smell doesn't give him any euphoria though, it's too little and too much at the same time. It's not enough to bring him back to his high but yet it's enough to taunt him, like it's mocking him, always reminding him of what he wants, but doesn't have.
The moon is full, shining over the streets of Boston. But he wouldn't notice, the few windows that are there are all boarded up, and even if they weren't, he's too caught up in his addiction to notice. He sits with his elbows on the table, his head in his hands, running shaking hands through his unkempt dark hair. Bitten down fingernails claw at his scalp, bony fingers twist around and pull at clumps of hair, trying desperately to stop the flashbacks.
He needs another hit. He needs one desperately. But he knows there is only one way to get it and that's why he's here. To get more of the thing that's killing him but also the only thing keeping him alive. When he's high, he sees her. All happy and innocent, he sees her telling him about her day, her wide smile and big, kind eyes that shone with joy. He can't see that now. All he can see is the terror on her face, he can feel her bloodcurdling scream slice through him.
His breathing gets deeper and his knee begins to bounce. The insistent tapping noise echoing through the space. Then he hears voices. Chris. He feels anticipation building in his stomach, Chris has what he wants, he promised to give him it if he did what he asked. And he did.
"Nate" a voice in the dark growled. "What did you do?"
"I- I did what you asked" he stuttered. A figure emerges from the darkness, a tall, menacing figure, dressed all in black.
"No. You didn't," Chris states with venom, "I asked you, no, I told you to shut her up. And what do you do? You send her a note. A note. What did that do? Huh?"
"It scared her, I- I saw her when she opened it. She- she was scared. She wouldn't go to the police with it."
"For Gods sakes Nate. You're so useless. You can't do anything right." Chris screamed, kicking the table with enough force to know it over and send it sliding across the floor. He stared at Nate for a few moments with a look of disgust, before shaking his head and turning to leave. Nate panicked.
"Wait!" he shouted, "you said if I did it, you'd give me what I need."
Chris let out a cruel laugh, a low, menacing chuckle that bounced off the walls, surrounding Nate, engulfing him.
"Have you not been listening? You didn't do what I asked, so you don't get what you want."
"No," Nate exclaims, falling from the chair, landing on his knees on the filthy floor. "Please, please. I'll- I'll do anything, I'm sorry, I'll fix it. I-I'll shut her up, I swear. Just please, please. I need it, Chris. I need it." He pleaded. Chris looked down at him with the same look of disgust.
"You're pathetic," He sneered. Before pulling a small zip lock bag filled with fine white powder out. With a sharp flick of his wrist he sent it flying towards Nate, where it hit him square in the chest. "I guess they're right. If you want something doing right, you have to do it yourself."