Page 30 of Pity the Living, Not the Dead

Thump, thump.

“Elijah!”

Thump…

My choice became clear because there really wasn’t one to make. Disappointing Liam, losing Olivia. That would be a heartbreak Liam would never get over. “Liam, bite her.” I slashed my wrist open, pressing it to her ashen lips while Liam drained her. “The doctors will be in soon.” I had barely removed my wrist from her lips before the door burst open just as Liam sealed the wound.

The hospital staff barely took notice of our leave as we slid out of the room undetected while they finished unhooking the machines. Silently, I escorted Liam outside. I knew he had a million questions that I’d answer once we were safely inside the car.

“Elijah, what if it didn’t work? How will we know? How can we get her out of there? How do we need to get her body back to our house?” Liam fired off.

“We need to wait. They’ll be taking her to the morgue soon.” Liam fidgeted in his seat during the hour-long wait. I figured that had been ample time for them to cart her down. We drove around to the rear entrance and snuck back inside undetected, making it down to the morgue as the orderlies left the room. Olivia’s scent brought us to the cabinet door her body was behind.

“Hey, you can’t be in here!” The mortician said as he rounded the corner.

“We aren’t here,” I compelled him. “You see no one.”

“I see no one,” the mortician repeated, going back to his office or whatever was on the other side of the wall he disappeared behind.

I grabbed her chart from the desk, then Liam and I retrieved her body and loaded it in the car. We were on I-5 in a matter of moments. Not a word was spoken during the drive home.

“Let’s put her in the guest room downstairs,” I told Liam as we carried her inside.

“Sunlight?”

“No, that room mirrors ours, minus the panic room.”

Liam pulled back the sheets as I laid her body down. Gently, he drew the covers over her, then sat vigil by her bedside. I knew hunting was out of the question—he’d not leave her until he knew for sure whether she made it or not. I brought his dinner to him in a warmed coffee mug. We had put ourselves at risk earlier, but there was no way I would’ve told Liam no, nor was there any way to tell if my blood was absorbed into her system in time.

Now, we wait.

Patience isn’t a virtue I possess. Not that I possessed many, as of late. I had no choice but to sleep as the sun rose, my body wouldn’t allow otherwise. I created a makeshift bed on the floor beside hers, succumbing to the darkness as I laid my head on the pillow.

Upon waking, my immediate attention went right back to Olivia. Her body lay there, taunting me. Filling me with a false sense of hope one moment, while in the next I mourned her short life. I felt like the worst brother, not being able to be there for her, to fight off her attacker. But I could smell him on her. One way or another, I’d find him, and life as he knew it would come to an end.

Memories of our childhood assaulted me in a rush of emotional waves. Times of Olivia and me on the swing set in the backyard, lost to worlds of our limitless imaginations. One moment we were slaying a make-believe dragon using a stick that had fallen from the old oak tree, while in the next, we’d be making mud pies for a pretend dinner party we were hosting. I didn’t have a single happy childhood memory that didn’t include her. The scolding we received from our older siblings when we came inside covered from head to toe in dirt and who knows what else were more than worth it. They’d bitch incessantly while bathing and changing us.

Graceful, I never was.

That same oak tree was the cause of my first stiches at the tender age of five. Olivia had climbed so high, and I wanted to be brave like her. Always my hero, then and now. She scaled it in a matter of moments, while I barely made it to the first branch before it snapped and down I went. The rough edge of the broken limb tore a gash in my thigh and I was rushed to the doctor in town. Seven stiches and an ass-chewing later, our mother made me promise not to do it again. Had I not gotten hurt, she never would’ve known I had attempted to climb it in the first place.

Olivia and I were left to amuse ourselves at young ages. The older siblings had Mom running them from sporting events to cheerleading practice to school club meetings until the eldest two got their licenses. Then it was split between the three of them. By then, the damage had already been done, and Olivia and I had learned to fend for ourselves.

As soon as Olivia was able, she would read me bedtime stories, most often ending with her crashed out in the bed beside me.

We were the forgotten Aldrich children.

The disposable duo.

The ones they cast aside.

Seems time had repeated itself.

“Here, my love,” Elijah said, snapping me from the melancholy memories. He handed me another warm mug just as he had the night before. Always so thoughtful. “Drink, you’ll need your strength. I already know where your wayward thoughts are headed.”

Elijah knew my mind better than I did at times.

There were no words that could express the depth of the pain I felt at seeing her lay there. Immobile. Breathless. Covered in stitches and bruises. The one who was always my savior, yet I couldn’t seem to save her when it was my turn. What was the point of possessing these newfound powers if I couldn’t use them to help someone I loved? Lost. Hopeless. Feelings of inadequacy filled me as each second passed.

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