Found Missing

It seems predictable that it would rain on my last day in New Jersey. There's no weary sigh when I draw my curtains to bleakness, in Anne's spare bedroom, obviously, and there's no snivel when the water starts to heavy from the clouds as I wait on the cemetery wall for my taxi to come. If anything, I am relieved for the pouring heavens, as it drenches my clothes and soaks my hair I feel grateful for the distraction and everything is just that tiniest part more bearable.

It's been a week since I ran from the hospital and into the arms of poor Anne, as if she hadn't suffered enough heartbreak already. I ran away, and still, I am running. I think it's what I do best, but I won't let the acknowledgment of my selfishness stop me because I can't foresee another way to fix this mayhem.

It's been a week since I've seen Gerard, of course he hasn't even tried to find me dwelling in the depths of my duvet. Mikey had called by to let me know that Gerard had discharged himself from the hospital despite the doctors advisory that he stay at least for his therapy sessions. I don't know what hurts more; the fact that he doesn't want to see me or that he doesn't want to get better, still, I can't blame him. It's none of my business anymore.

"You're gonna' catch your death, Elfie."

I'm snatched away from my depressive indulgence to a hooded boy stood before me. I glare at him and in spite of the many lines of adoration I want to spill I instead snap "How long have you been here? Stalker."

"Always the charmer." He mutters, wrinkling his nose in a way that has grown on me, quite profusely. "Why are you sat in the rain? Oh, stupid question, I forgot you enjoy being a miserable bitch."

I open my mouth to fight back but I am too drained and besides, I probably deserve far much worse than being called a bitch.

"I'm waiting for my taxi, Gerard." I say instead, "I'm going to the airport."

"Okay," He says, trying to hide the drop in his voice, "You're really going home, then?"
"Well, that would explain why I have a luggage bag with me."
"Why didn't you just ask Anne to drive you to the airport?"

I shrug. "She's done too much for me, I'm not worth the trouble."

"You could have asked me..."

"I'm not worth your trouble, either."

"Oh, cancel your fucking pity party, Elfie." He spits and even I'm shocked by the venom spiked in his words. "Not everything is about you and your fucked up life, pull yourself together-"
"No! You pull yourself together!" I snap, jolting up to bark in his face. "You're the one who tried to off yourself! And for what? Because you 'get lost in your head', fucking bullshit-"
With that he grabs my arms and slams me back against the brick wall, fingers digging far too hard in the material of my coat. The expression carved into his sharp features makes half of me expect him to scream yet more poisoned words, the other half is waiting for his fist to collide with my jaw.

Neither of the two happen though, instead he simply stands there, jagged breathed and tall, body sandwiching me between him and the wall. His face is inches from mine, his hazels are burning holes into my eyes and I notice that the faded blue in his paper skin suggests that he hasn't slept since his birthday. We stare at each other in nothing but the rattle of rain and the odd rush of a passing car, until he hisses over my lips "Just go, then, just runaway." His hands have moved to cup my face now, thumbs pressing into the dents of my cheekbones. "Runaway with your sad songs, but it's only going to be a matter of time before you realize that you can't runaway from yourself."

He's scaring me, only because I know he's right. I want to take his bitter truths rammed so ruthlessly into my chest and shove them straight back down his throat, but my hands have become jelly stuck in the sleeves of his jacket. I sniff, lost for words and unable to do anything but rest my forehead against his cheek, letting the strands of hair escaping his hood trickle down the side of my face.

"If you must know, I actually came to say goodbye to Martha." I mumble after a minute or so. "I came to say goodbye, but I just ended up saying some pretty shitty stuff."

"Somehow, I don't think it matters what you said to her..." Gerard says, pulling away and I roll my eyes. "It matters to me." He sighs. "Well, what did you say?"

"I told her that, even after everything, even now this nightmare of hers is over, we're still trying to solve her problems." I look down at my fingertips now raveled in a lose thread in Gerard's jacket, shamefully unashamed of the projectile nastiness left like a bad taste in my mouth. "It's almost as if they didn't bury her deep enough."

"Elfie..." Gerard says, pinching my chin so that I have to look up, all cynicism suddenly banished. "We're not solving her problems anymore." He lets my face go, reaching to dig for something inside of his jacket. "If you have to leave, I want you to have this." He holds out an envelope between us, and as I study it with wary eyes I'm quick to understand that the envelope is Martha's.

"Where did you get that?"

"I came to find you this morning but you had already left, of course, but Anne opened the door for me and she gave me this." He explains. "She said she couldn't bare it being in her house anymore, said she wanted me to have it, but I want you to have it."

"What if I don't want it?"

"Do you have to leave?"

"It's for the best."

"Then you need it, trust me."

He takes the bottom of my coat and slips the envelope into my pocket. "You're gonna' be lost for places to runaway to one day, Elfie." He says, tone still cracked from last week. "You need to learn how to accept everything for what it is, we both do." He places a kiss on the end of my nose, lips lingering as if this could be our last goodbye, and it is.

"We need to solve our own problems."

And then he's gone. As fast as he had scrambled into my life, he's gone.

I don't want Martha's letter, but now, as my taxi arrives, I suppose I'm left with little choice but to keep it. I doubt that whatever words are smeared onto the paper will make a difference to anything anyway, after all, I already know the truth.

Nothing anyone can say will deter my decision.

I know it's for the best and so does Gerard, deep down, he has to. Our fate was unavoidable, inevitable, yet even as I drag my luggage bag through the airport I have this thought of giving it all up and running back to him. I need to remind myself that I had wanted this, I wanted it, I forced it.

It's all worked out for the best. I guess it's better for everyone this way, right?

Right?