Vermilion

Biting my lip, Chris and I struck idle conversation as the tide drew nearer, and snaked up to our thighs as the invisible sun-hidden by dreary clouds- dipped down below the horizon. I had changed into a strange fabric skirt and left my socks and boots at home, and Chris had changed into a pair of black basketball shorts he said that he hasn’t worn sense the sixth grade. He obviously hasn’t grown much since then if he can still fit them.

“So how long have you been involved with the Craft?” I asked him, bringing up that similarity between us for the first time since we had met. His blue eyes sparkled as he too continued to bite his lip.

“All my life really, just like you. My mother and my Aunt are both witches, or at least, my mother was. She sort of stopped believing in everything when she became heavily involved with drugs.” Chris spoke, sharing information with me that somebody else would have kept hidden inside, especially because I’m a stranger.

“Your mother was into drugs?” I asked, and he nodded, still biting his lip.

“Yeah, she found it as an easier escape. She had to give birth to one of my sister’s, Abby, in a rehab center for my sister’s own safety. She would have killed her otherwise. And I’m not sure about the youngest. My mother was arrested several months ago and held against her will in a rehab center, she’s not only endangered herself but she’s endangered everybody around her.” He explained, his piercing eyes scanning the murky, gray water that was ice cold against our skin. “What about you?”

“What about me?” I asked him, and he chuckled.

“Your mother, what happened?”

I inhaled a shaky breath before I answered, “Well. For the majority of my childhood she was cheating on my father with her step-brother, and that bastard was always lurking around our house at night, forcing me to do things a little girl shouldn’t do. She ended up pregnant, and my father didn’t know what to do, and her step-brother was angry. Her step-brother had charges put against him because of the way he was with me, and he is still in jail for other things, and my mother became depressed. She took her life three years ago.”

“Oh, how has your father been coping?” He asked. Thinking about my father, I closed my eyes and a solitary tear rolled down my cheek.

“He’s dead too.”

There was silence between us before Chris continued his questions, “I don’t mean to pry, really, but didn’t you try to hurt yourself?”

“Yes, after Jacob told me he loved Bella. I just couldn’t bare it all anymore, so I did somethings that sent me to the hospital. And just months ago after my father’s death, I couldn’t wash it all away, and I couldn’t wish all the pain away so I did it again. I'm just that fucked up.” I said, feeling my bottom lip quiver.

“Wow.” He said, speechless, breathless. I felt him then take me in his arms, another too friendly hug, and surprisingly a warm one as well. A different warm then Jacob’s hugs every were. Something that felt complete and right, and I don’t mean to be cliché, but that’s just how it felt. I’m a hopeless romantic.

I wiggled out of his embrace, feeling too mushy and too complete for my mind to take right now, and so I sat close beside him. Almost leaning against him, but not quite enough so that my my upper body wouldn't become dependent on him. Then another body sat beside us, one with a warmth that felt like the burning of the sun compared to the cold. Jacob.

“Who is this?” I heard him ask, and I gave him a glance and shrugged.

“He’s Christipher, my new friend.” I answered, exhaling with an anxious feel in my stomach. I almost thought I heard a growl come deep from Jacob’s throat, but I couldn’t completely be sure.

“Your Jacob?” Chris asked, and Jacob nearly scoffed for his answer.

“Obviously.” Jacob said sarcastically, and I almost wondered if he was getting a bit jealous because of Chris.

“Well, I think play time is over, Elaine. Let’s go home.” Jacob stood and took me with him, and I waved a good bye to Chris, and he waved good bye too, a solemn smile on his face.

Once inside the confines and warmth of Billy Black’s house, Jacob unleashed his fury upon me, and I stood helpless against the wall with my arms hugged close to my body. Wondering where Billy was to stop Jacob’s madness.

“I saw you getting a little to close to comfort with that guy! What do you think you were doing?” he asked me, yelling and pointing towards the door with a look that burned hell in his eyes.

“What the fuck is your problem, Jacob? Your the one who told me that you didn’t love me anymore! Your the one that made it clear that we did not imprint! Don’t you fucking patronize me for my fucking choices in seeking comfort from this shithole depression while you dilly dally with that bitch and her unborn child!” I screamed loudly as tears hot with fury screeched down my cheeks and I could imagine them becoming a puddle beneath me, burning through the carpet with hatred.

“Bella is not a bitch! And her baby is killing her!”

“Boo fucking hoo Jacob. I’m sure her husband is doing what he is suppose to be doing, and being there for her. Because of you, because you fucking abandoned me for somebody that would never be yours, I died! I’m fucking dead inside Jacob! All this pain. I can’t cry it all away, and I can’t scratch it all away no matter how hard I try.It’s because of you that my life is rotting in this hell! Christipher has become all I've got!” We were both huffing and puffing in anger for a minute of silence, thunder clapping in the distance as the sound of rain fell heavy against the roof.

“How do you know he won’t abandon you too?” He asked, his voice dripping with a venomous tone, biting at me like a snake. I recoiled and whimpered away, bringing my pale, fragile hands to my chest.

“Because not all boys are like you.”

**

The front door slammed against the frame loudly, shaking the walls, rattling my fragile body in fear. My chest heaved along with the beat of my sobs, and I found myself grabbing at my wrists, gripping the skin tightly. As I slid against the wall, my whole world came crashing down, for the uncountable time, and I could no longer hold it all together.

It was now. Or never.

**

The raindrops were heavier then a brick as they fell against me, on my head, my shoulders. The wetness of my cloths and my skin held me down as my buckle boots splashed against the ocean water washed upon the beach. My dying black eyes scanned the bank of the beach, looking for the concrete steps and the white picket gate against the weathered fence. It was now more then ever that I found myself seeking comfort in a human being I knew not longer then a day. But I had two choices. Christipher fucking Sullivan, or backing tracking and my untimely death.

I chose life.

I wasn’t going to let Jacob bring me down one more time, and it was either depend on a complete stranger to help pick up the pieces or lose myself in an eternity of pain and selfishness to try and rid myself of all that was him, that was Jacob. I can’t live with his memory anymore, and if I didn’t love Billy as a second father, I probably would have thought to run away now, leaving Christipher, and my whole life behind me.

Finally, the path was in view, and with all the strength I could muster I clambered up the concrete steps drowned in sea water and pushed through the gate, splashing through a puddle in the middle of the muddy path around the side of his yellow house. I had to drag myself up his front steps, the strength I thought I had draining away, and I made it as far as I could. I collapsed onto his soaking wet porch, all the life in me slowly disappearing.

“Elaine?” I heard him ask as a woman, probably his Aunt, gasped. All I could see as my eyes threatening to close was his converse sneakers coming up beside my head, and then I felt around my torso and my knees, his strong arms lifting me bridal style, holding me against his chest.

I couldn’t remember anything else. I didn’t want to.