Lily's face scrunched up in confusion, her ice-coloured eyes flicking between the pattern on her phone and the knitting project her fingers were nimbly working on as she lay sprawled across the sofa. The TV was on, but neither of us were watching it.

  I was sat on the windowsill with a book, trying to make up for the years of reading practice I missed out on as a child. I could read as a kid- a little- but mainly just a bit of Spanish and the numbers and notes Vanessa kept on her fridge for me to go deliver shit to. Drugs, mainly. And I only learnt that when I was like seven.

  I've improved a lot over the five years I've been living with Lily and her folks, and I am, believe it or not, grateful for that, but I'm definitely still behind Lily and most of our peers.

  "You good?" I asked, looking over.

  "Hm? Oh, yeah, just miscounted a stitch." Her soft voice replied, not looking up from her work.

  Martin and Claire went out about an hour ago and it just occurred to me I have no clue were. They go food shopping on Sundays, so it can't be that. It might be something to do with the restraining orders. Not that it'll do literally anything- I mean she proved that Tuesday night.

  It's been four days including today, and I still haven't told Lily about that.

  I tried yesterday but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

  My nightmares have gotten a lot worse since then, and I haven't snuck out either. I guess the whole ordeal affected me more than I thought it did.

  Honestly though, I'm starting to go a little stir crazy. I don't know how Lily does it- staying either here, at school or at therapy. I'd lose my fucking mind.

  It's funny really, we went through the exact same thing, with the exact same person at the exact same time- the only difference is the length of time- yet we are so different in how we cope with it after the fact.

  "I'm gonna step outside for a smoke before your folks get back." I announce, dog-earing my book and setting it down on the white shelf by the TV stand. We don't have a coffee table for some reason.

  "Wait, wait, wait, I'll come!" Lily scrambled up, dumping her knitting needles on the sofa, the ball of royal blue yarn falling off and rolling across the tan carpeted floors.

  I walked out into the narrow hallway, heading up to our room, grabbing my cigarettes from behind one of the hung picture frames, then shoved on my trainers and headed out the front door, holding it open for Lily.

  I couldn't help teasing her a little on the way out. "I thought you hated me smoking," I remarked with a grin.

  She rolled her eyes at me, giving me evils as she passed me and stepping out into the freshly mown front garden.

  "It's bad for you." She pointed out for probably the thousandth time, plopping down onto the old chair swing. "You're killing yourself. If you die, who the hell am I gonna finish watching Stranger Things with?"

  "You could always make other friends, you know- isn't that what Dr-what's-his-face is always babbling on about?"

  She giggled, pressing her back into my shoulder as I sat down, fiddling with my lighter. "Dr Tompson?"

  "Oh, shut up, you know I'm shit with names." I scowled playfully at her, though I could feel myself getting increasingly frustrated with the half-empty lighter. "God, why won't this stupid thing light!"

  I dumped the useless thing into her outstretched palm, and with one swipe, a small flame burned to life on top of the plastic casing.

  "Thanks." I mumbled, ignoring the smug grin, grabbing one of the sticks from the packet.

  "A team, right?" She prompted, her eyes scanning the dead neighbourhood.

  I felt a pit form in my stomach again.

  A team? Yeah, we're a team- so what does that make me? A team member that's actively lying to their team mate.

  No. I'm not lying, I'm just... withholding information. Yeah, that's it. She barely leaves the house as is, I don't need to make it worse by telling her who I met with.

  She doesn't need to know, Emily, it's fine. We're fine.

  "Yeah... a team."

  I took a long drag to silence my thoughts. They've been a little too vocal as of late.

  The feeling of the smoke filling my lungs did wonders to slow my mind- at least for a little while. The smoke came back out of my mouth with the next exhale, likely leaving an inky black stain behind- but why should I care? It makes me feel good now, why should I bother worrying about the health of a future me I might not even get to meet? Knowing me, that is a very real possibility.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Still, this feeling was eating me alive... Maybe there was a way I could tell her without making her panic- explain it was a one-time thing and a pure coincidence- that she didn't even care anymore- we were safe- we are safe. I don't know, just something to make this pit go away!

  "So, uh, kid." I began awkwardly, flicking some ash onto the ground and scuffing it away with my shoe so her folks don't see it when they inevitably return. "You know that whole Vanessa-being-out-early thing..."

  Instantly, I felt her muscles tense beneath me, moving a bit closer and scanning the space around us as if she'd just pop out from behind the neighbours fence like some sort of bogeyman or something. "Yeah... What about it?"

  Okay, just get it over with, just tell her. You can do it!

  But her eyes are just so trusting...

  Shit, she's gonna hate me, isn't she?

  "Well, about that, I-"

  She waited patiently to hear what I had to say, but I bit my tongue. My chest tightened and suddenly this post-rain wind felt unbearably hot. I even felt the hairs on my arms and legs stand on end.

  Please don't hate me, kid, you're the only person I have.

  The only one...

  "What's wrong, Em?" She questioned, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, staring into my eyes. "You can tell me anything. Always. We don't keep secrets from each other, right?"

  I can't do this.

  "Right, yeah," I sighed, putting the cigarette to my lips and taking another long drag, "never mind, it's not important. I just thought maybe we should tell the therapist tomorrow- just, y'know, so we can get out of that bloody separation exercise for the day."

  I watched as the smoke twirled in front of my nose, quickly fading and being swept away by the autumn breeze, leaving nothing to remember it by. The tree near our fence shook and dropped more leaves that fluttered to the ground in piles of orange, red and brown. For a while, Lily stayed silent, looking for any signs of distress, no matter how subtle, then, she let out a sigh of her own, pulling the sleeves of her home-made cardigan over her hands, her warm body fully pressed into mine like two puzzle pieces- made to fit together perfectly yet unable to do so with any other piece.

  "Oh, okay," She finally whispered, pushing the hand with my cigarette in it away from her face. "We can do that, I guess."

  ----------------□----------------

  -(5 years earlier)-

  The door slammed behind me, making the wooden stairs rattle as I returned to our dark little home, the lock clicking and Vanessa's drunken mumbles fading into the background.

  "Kid?" I called out, looking around for the blonde who has quickly become my first and only life-line in this place.

  A drop of cold water fell from the boiler pipes above me, hitting my neck as I crawled into the little hiding nook behind the old, broken bookshelf. It's been here for longer than I have, standing forgotten and worn like the two captives it shares the space with.

  I couldn't quite see her in the dark space, but I could just about make out her shivering silhouette curled up in the crawl space, wrapped up in my thin, dirty blanket I had- by some miracle- managed to convince a veeeerrryyy hungover Vanessa to give me a few years back when moths made holes in the fabric.

  She sniffled, and her arm moved, likely to wipe away the tears. Poor thing's been non-stop crying since she got here about two-ish weeks ago.

  She doesn't deserve this shit, man.

  She's not tough like I am. We're the same age, I think, but she's so much younger? I don't know how to describe it really. I just... I want to help her survive.

  "I got you something." I tried to make my voice as gentle as possible, scooting close to her and wrapping my arms and legs around her trembling body to keep her warm the best I can down here.

  As reluctant as I was to let go of food, especially after not having had any for the past four days, I figured maybe the apple I managed to swipe from Vanessa's friend's tree today on my 'delivery run' would make her feel a bit better. Food always made me feel better.

  My ghostly pale brown hand gently held the fruit out to the trembling girl, who hesitated only for a moment before taking it and sinking her teeth into the sweet flesh.

  "See? It's not so bad here, so long as you know how to survive." I smiled weakly, though I doubted she could see it.

  "I wanna go home..." She squeaked, followed by another sniffle, making my heart sink.

  "I already told you, kid, you can't. She's never gonna let either of us leave. I'm sorry, that's just how it works around here. Bull crap, I know but..." I trailed off.

  She started to sob all over again. I wanted to comfort her but I didn't know how! The only time hands have ever been on me was to cause pain. I bit my lip, breaking the scab, the familiar metallic taste dripping into my mouth.

  I hardly even noticed it.

  I had to get her to stop crying. She's already brought Vanessa down here once before, and I'm in no rush to get another black eye.

  "Kid, listen to me, okay? I know this is scary, but you've got to be quiet." I whisper, reaching out tentatively to stroke her hair in the same way Vanessa does when I please her. "I'll protect you, but you have to stop crying."

  She whimpered from the effort of forcing away her tears, and out of nowhere, she pounced on me, like Rex does, but without the growling and sharp teeth.

  What is she- is she trying to attack me?! My body tensed as her arms found my neck, wrapping around it and squeezing, her head pressed against my chest.

  What...?

  "Thank you." She whimpered quietly, accidentally wiping her drippy nose and tears all over my hoodie.

  "What the hell are you doing?" I hissed on instinct, pushing her.

  She pulled away, arms falling back to her sides, blue eyes wide. "I was just... hugging you. I'm sorry, I-"

  "Hugging?"

  "You don't know what a hug is?" She questioned, looking rather taken aback.

  I scoffed. "Course I know what a damn hug is- I've watched TV before, y'know."

  Her face twisted with something akin to concern, and slowly, she reached up, reading me as her fingers tentatively traced an old scar that ran from my chin all the way up into the right side of my head, hidden by my mop of curls.

  "...How long have you been here?" She whispered, looking almost afraid of the answer.

  "Eight years." I said bluntly, pulling back.

  She gasped loudly and I rushed to cover her mouth. "Shhh!"

  "Eight years?" She mimicked- like that big grey bird with no feathers on his chest that one of Vanessa's "friends" always brings over, the one that copies Rex when he barks, scaring the both of us- pulling my hand off her.

  "Yeah. Since I was three. I told you Lily, you're not going home. No-one leaves here. Ever."

  ----------------□----------------

  -(Present day)-

  "Em?"

  "Huh? What?" I said, blinking hard, my charred cigarette sliding from my fingers.

  "You were disassociating again." Lily murmured with a sleepy yawn.

  "Sorry." I stubbed it out on the side of the wall, brushing away the stain left behind.

  She shifted making the swing underneath us rock as she laid down, using my thighs as a pillow. Her only response being a lazy hum while her arm coiled around my leg.

  I ran my hand over her back, running my fingers over the little holes of her cardigan.

  Two flashbacks in a week...

  Yikes.

  I need to do something about that, I haven't had flashbacks in years.

  The only question is what.