Chapter Text
Footsteps come closer and closer until I’m staring up at you. The metal table between us sits bare, only your blurred reflection showing it’s real and not just another thing I’ve made up. Chains wrap around my wrists and ankles, locking me to this cold metal chair. This isn’t the first time you've visited, but it is the first in a while. Your curly red hair is longer and greyer than I remember. Your face has more lines and your eyes are cold. Although I'm not exactly sure if that's a new thing. Your long coat sits firmly on your shoulders, still, I can see your nice clothes underneath. A modest white blouse, with brown dress pants that clashes terribly with your dirty black boots.
“Bartholomew,” you say, voice blank.
I smile at you. You don’t sit across from me even though there is a chair for you. I think you like looking down on me. It’s not like I don’t deserve it.
The dim room encases us. It used to be white, but after years of uncleanliness, it’s faded into more of a dirty yellow with specks of who knows what. The smell of urine and blood are permanent, no matter how much people in recent years have tried to scrub it away. I feel the eyes staring at me through the one way glass. I’m tempted to smile and pretend I can see the guards watching us; I don’t though. My eyes stay fixed on yours.
“Do you remember that spring of 75’?” I ask. Your face darkens, yet I can see in your eyes that you do.
“That girl you knew is dead,” you speak coldly. “Just like the boy I thought I knew is.” One of the dim lights flicker above us. Suddenly, the concrete floor underneath me feels colder than usual against my bare feet.
“Well then, let me tell you about her,” I say. My smile doesn’t waver, though my speech slurs slightly. That could be the tranquilizers though. Fear is a strange thing. I could never tell if it was you afraid of me or the guards. Based on the way you are looking at me, anyone would assume that the answer to that question is easy; the guards. But then, they don’t know you like I do. No one ever did. “Her name was Phoebe,” I continue, “and she went to this magic school. There she met this boy named Barry. He introduced her to a boy named Ethan, a boy named Ran, and two girls, Penny and Dana. Back then, they were her everything.” You shift your weight ever so slightly. Your eyes are still piercing mine. One would think that they could kill me if you wanted them too. Only I know that's true, but you never would. “In 1975, the fourteen year olds decided to run. So they did, they ran and ran until no adult nor child could ever find them. There was a war on, but they didn’t care. They ran from all the death and hid in the mountains. They bathed in the spring and ran through the meadows. Years went by as they grew old togeth–”
“That's not what happened,” you interrupt, “and you know it,”
I feel my face scrunch up and my lips pull downwards. “Enlighten me.”
“Well, for starters, we didn’t run away. We did care about the war. So much so that some of us left school early to join it. And not all of us got to grow old.” You pause only to take a breath before continuing your truthful lie. “Ran died in my arms trying to end it, you and Ethan betrayed us and killed Dana in cold blood. Then in the heat of battle, Penny killed Ethan, her own brother. Do you know what that did to her?
“Do you know what his death did to me?”
He
“You’re the one who decided that rebelling against your blood, your father, was more important than sticking by your family.” Your voice raises ever so slightly. It sounds angry yet also in pain.
I close my eyes, not wanting to look at you any longer. “How is Penny?”
“Dead. Died in childbirth 10 years ago,”
And you didn’t tell me. “So it's just us now.” I open my eyes and look at you. You’re sitting in the chair now. I’m not sure if you’ve ever done that before. You are fighting tears, even through your stone cold expression I can tell. I understand your pain. You loved Penny the same way I loved Ethan, unconditionally. Only you never got to show it like I did.
“Yea, it’s just us.”