Chapter 2: Betrayal
When I arrive at Emmas house me and my luggage are soaked from head to tow and my backpack feels like it weight toons. It is a wonder what humans can endure, there should be no way someone like me should be able to carry this stupid backpack for so long in this kind of weather. When I finally see the edge of the Barnes garden I can barely hold back a sob, no tears because none remain. My feet are growing faster and suddenly I don't care anymore, I just want to see my Sun, the balm of my soul, my best friend, and sister, Emma. I don't care that I am soaked and dirty from falling in the muddy street, I don't care that I am probably going to be sick from the cold, I just want to see my Emma.
When I arrive in front of the door I don't wair to ring the bell, I just pound the door like my life is on the line. It probably even is, who knows what longterm exposure to this weather can do. I need Emma, I need her now, I need her to tell me that my Dad is just sad and that he will wake up and return to be the person he was before or at least someone who cares enough about his daughter to give her a ride after 3 weeks of absence when there is a storm outside. I NEED HER TO TELL ME EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT.
The door doesn't open, it remains closed, closed like an iron gate separating me from my salvation. Maybe they are not at home, but Emma promised me to meet up the day I would return from the camp. Maybe she forgot, NO Emma would never forget her promise, forget about me, she probably didn't hear me. I should try the bell.
I tried everything, the bell, pounding the door again, walking around the house and peering through every window. There is no one there, no light, no sound. I know that Mr. Barnes is probably working late and Ms. Barnes has her Joga classes today, but Emma promised, she promised to meet up today. Maybe it is my fault, maybe I am too late, I walked here which took longer than expected, maybe she is out there searching for me, maybe waiting for me in Downtown. But no that is impossible, she would never go there without someone driving her. As a model, she can't be seen walking or using public transportation. She is not like me, not an ugly broken thing, she is a Princess, fated to find her knight in shining armor. She deserves nothing less.
Waiting is my only option. She will be home soon. I am sure she just stepped out to ... find flowers? Emma would never go our in this kind of weather without a very good reason. Maybe she or one of her parents had an accident. Or an emergency came up. Yes, that must be it. I will just wait for her here, the rain can't hit me on the porch and I can take the cold. Emma will need me when she returns home.
So I wait, wait for my sunshine to come home, to find me and give me peace for those precious few moments I live for now. And I wait until the sun has vanished completely and the night becomes eery and quiet. I am shaking, the cold, my wet clothes, I am going to be sick, but I can't leave. Emma hasn't come home yet. It must have been bad, maybe she is in the hospital. I really need a phone right now.
Time continues to flow like molas, I try to stay awake, but the cold is getting to me. And my soul, the shining beacon inside every human has long since lost its warmth. I need you, Emma, I need you to save me.
It must be almost 9 when I hear her, it is Emma, she is laughing about something. The rain has stopped and the streetlights provide me with enough light to see her coming towards me. She radiates joy and excitement, I have only seen her like this once before, after her first shooting. She seems so warm so happy, I want to join her bask in her happiness. I try to stand, but my legs are frozen and my whole body is shaking so hard. I am so cold. Even my vision is a little blurry now.
That is when I notice her, a tall girl, almost indistinguishable in the dark night. Black skin, black clothes, a frown on her face. Like a vengeful shadow, side by side with my sun. Suddenly I find the strength to stand, to walk towards Emma. She is making a joke, lips quirked in that o so familiar way, her head turned towards the stranger. She doesn't notice me like she can not even fathom that something more important than the stranger is happening.
But the stranger notices me, her frown deepens and she pulls Emma, dares to touch her like it is nothing. And Emma only laughs and follows her directions. Emma hates to be touched commandingly, no one can tell a Princess what to do. But she doesn't protest, simply follows the stranger's gaze. I can't recognize the emotions flying across her face when she sees me. Is that pity, loathing, even hate. This is not my Emma. I want to greet her but I can't speak. I want to hug her, hear her voice, but I am afraid. I don't even know why. My instincts tell me to stay quiet.
The stranger speaks: "What is this filth doing in your front yard?".
I shrink back, trying to find a reply something to say, but I was never good at that, too slow, too naive, too insecure. Emma is the witty one. I am more quiet, bookish, a good writer, not a smart speaker. But nothing I could have done could have prepared me for what came next.
"She is nothing, just some old baggage that doesn't go away. A pest."
I am appalled, shocked, shattered. There is no way my Emma would ever say something like that.
"Emma, it's me Taylor, your friend." I try to, I don't know what I am trying to say.
"I don't have pathetic friends who cry themselves to sleep for a week. I don't need a waste like you."
"Emma.." I try again, but the stranger interrupts me. "Are you death, pathetic little shits like you are not welcome here!" She shoves me, hard. I fall to the ground. My soaked clothes are now caked in mud. I stare up at Emma. But her eyes tell me more than her words ever could.
"You are weak. I am not weak. I am strong. Crybabies like you have no place in my life. Go home and cry like the pathetic child you are."
Emma's words, the rejection hits me like a storming brute. I suddenly find out that my tears have not dried up, the dam is broken and I can barely see through the veil of tears. But I can still see Emma walking around me, opening the door to her house and leaving without as much as a glimpse in my direction.
Suddenly the stranger is right in my face. "Fuck off, I don't want to see your weak ugly self ever again." She turns and walks to the door, takes my luggage and throws it in the biggest piece of muddy soaked ground she can find.
"And take your garbage with you." Are the last words I can hear before the door closes with an audible click.
How do you describe the end of the world? Armageddon, such a meaningless word. When your world breaks everything becomes meaningless.
"You can do it, Taylor. You did it once you can do it again." Except there is no one to hold my shattered world together. No Mum, no Dad, certainly no Emma. What does it say about a person when everyone leaves them. Betrayed, shattered, burned, wiped off like a fly on a windshield.
"Don't think, Taylor, just walk, pick up your stuff and go home." Home, where is that. Home is supposed to be warm, welcoming, a place of safety. But for the moment anywhere will do. I just need a goal to concentrate on. I can't think, can't feel, I can only walk.
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