As sadness and anger pour through me, I begin walking across the room. One foot in front of another. I made a promise. I made a promise and I’m going to keep it. Tears are pooling at the bottom of Emily’s eyes and she’s already grabbed on to Eli. There’s no way she understands what’s going on, but it doesn’t require a master’s degree to figure out it’s not good.
I clutch Emily’s hand and she plants her feet firmly next to Eli. “What’s going on? We’re going to leave, right? All of us, right now. We’re going to leave.”
Eli kisses her forehead then lowers his head until he’s eye level with Emily. “I love you. I have always loved you and your mother. Now, you need to go.”
Emily’s eyes go wide, too wide, and I shove away all the fear, all the pain at what I’m about to lose, and keep the promise I made. I wrap my arms around Emily’s waist and I lift her off the floor. She’s fighting. Shouting. Echoing the emotions tearing at me.
I’m dragging her out of the living room, out of the kitchen. On my heels is her uncle, yelling at me to move faster, but I tune him out and focus on Emily’s screams because those are my screams. Her tears are my tears because I don’t know how to save Emily and Eli. I don’t know how to save them both.
Emily
THE DOOR SHUTS in my face. The man with the scar, my uncle, wore the look of death. He was wielding the judgment that should be reserved only for the Grim Reaper.
Oz’s hold on me is strong and I keep pushing. My feet barely brush the ground as we go down the stairs. My throat is raw. The screaming won’t stop. “Oz, please. We need to go back! We need to go back!”
My mind has fractured and is skipping between fast-forward and slow motion. My face is wet. My vision blurry. There’s a chant in the back of my head that everything’s okay. Everything’s okay, but it’s not. It’s not. Eli didn’t walk out with us. He didn’t leave.
I’m kicking and Oz hesitates, enough that when I thrust back hard my feet land on the ground. Oz grabs my face and he is the only thing in my line of sight. “We have to go.”
“I’ll visit them.” I choke on a sob. “I’ll visit them. I’ll live with them. I’ll write them letters every day. I’ll video chat. I’ll do whatever!”
My heart beats so hard and so loud that breathing is causing pain. Living is causing me pain. “I’ll give them whatever they want!”
“That’s the point!” Oz shouts, and I tremble with the vibration of his voice. He lowers his hands to my hips and I know it’s so he can carry me again. “That’s the point. He’s trying to save you from this.”
I grab on to his shirt and my head is shaking back and forth or maybe I’m just shaking because none of this is happening. “This is real life! This is real life and this does not happen!”
And there’s a pop and my entire body flinches. I’m holding my breath and I realize Oz is, too. He briefly closes his eyes as his fingers tighten on my hips.
“What was that?” I ask.
Oz begins to nudge me to the road, but I dig my feet into the ground. “What was that?!”
A surge of adrenaline pours into my veins. I slip to the right, and as Oz tries to capture me, I duck to the left and run past. He’s yelling my name. Telling me to wait. I don’t. I hit the door and shove through. Past the foyer, into the kitchen and my entire world shatters when I see Eli on the floor. Blood pooling on the white linoleum.
My knees collide to the ground and my hands hover over his lifeless body. He’s dead. Oh, God, he’s dead. My stomach cramps and I bend over with the sharp sting. I never told him that I love him. I never told him that I love him. Oh, God. Oh my God.
“Emily!” the voice is echoed in my head and when I turn, it’s like Oz is sprinting toward me from a long hallway. My face is hot. My body is on fire.
He’s dead. Eli’s dead. My father is dead.
The man who claims to be my grandfather walks in our direction and I lean over Eli as if I can protect him, as if I can bring him back to life.
“Let him go,” he says. “He’s gone.”
“Get away from us!” I touch Eli’s face, angling him toward me. His cheek is still warm, but I hate how his head flops with no resistance. I’m not letting him go.
An arm around my waist and I’m off the floor. It’s Oz and he’s pushing me into his side, trying to force my head into his chest. “Don’t look, Emily. Don’t look.”
My hand brushes against something hard. Something metal. And as Oz continues to drive my cheek into him, I catch sight of movement on the floor. A twitch of a finger. Eli’s alive. He’s not dead, he’s alive.
My fingers wrap around the metal object, I pull it out and the world that was speeding up and slowing down ceases to move. All the shouts, all the chaos is silenced as I point a gun at my uncle.
Oz
IT’S LIKE A rubber band that’s been stretched and then it snaps with the contract. Emily owns everyone’s undivided attention. She’s shaking. Her body. Her head. More importantly her arms, her hands and the finger that is too close to the trigger.
The safety is off and I regret showing her where it was at.
“Give me the gun, Emily,” I say.
“You don’t understand,” the woman with blond hair pleads. “Eli stole you and your mother from us. He almost killed my son. Eli agreed to this!”