Elle watched her brother as he ran off with the girl of his dreams and tried to smile. Sure, all was not right with the world. There were still starving countries riddled with AIDs, their parents had uped and died, and Elle had to move from inter-state to raise her misfit brother. Not to mention how much she hated her job. But, and this was the important part; she wasn't going to be turning brown and fury and that had to be something good in this big, wide world of bad.
Elle sighed and went back inside, shutting the cracked door behind her. Who knew what time that kid-brother of hers would be getting home, well at least he was out with friends. That was a first, and it had to be a good sign. Better than reading those books. Maybe the werewolf feasco hadn't been all bad…Elle shook her head, trying to disloge an image of Jake that had floated to her mind. Jake smiling down at her in his rather off-beat club. Elle wandered into the lounge-room and found the book Jimmy had lent from the library. It was still open on the page describing how to cure oneself from the curse. She picked the book up, careful not to loose the page and skimmed over it. It was pure luck that Jimmy had chosen this book, Elle thought. If he'd picked another one we might have got it wrong. Might have missed something important. Might have turned fury.
She put the book back down on the coffee table. She'd have to remind Jimmy to return it soon, they'd had it for a while now, and she knew full well who'd end up forking out the bill for it. Jake would have offered. Trying to keep those unwanted thoughts behind her, out of her head, Elle moved into the kitchen to do some cleaning up. The moment she saw the shambles Elle realized just how near impossible the task would be. Oh well all the better to keep those thoughts at bay. But they kept moving in on her, catching her unawares, tricking her into payng attention to them. Thoughts about Jake. His face when he asked her, told her to join him. She'd almost agreed. For a split second she almost forsook all she knew, everyone she loved, Jimmy. Almost. But she'd turned down the offer. She'd felt bad at the time. She didn't now. But Elle tried not to think about that. Instead: she did the dishes. Trying to keep her thoughts on all the broken plates that littered the room and how long it was going to take her to clean the mess up. And of course Jimmy was out with his new fab friends. No doubt he'd understood the ultimate mess and how he ultimately would have had to help clean if he'd stayed home. Smart boy. Elle thought, shaking her head and smiling that small annoyed one she saved for moments just like this. Well, not so much the house-getting-ruined-by-evil-wolfman-boyfreind-and-scary-dog moments, more her brother avoiding the house-hold chores kinds of moments.
Bending down to pick up a semi-whole plate, Elle let out a groan of pain. A sudden spazem of fear seized the young woman as the terrified thought that she was still turning ran-throuh her like a shiver. Her breathing became short, sharp and panic-stricken. "Oh, no. Please no." she whispered to the empty room, unintentionally looking at the burnt remains of her boyfriend. almost expecting him to move, laugh at her. But nothing happend. No claws, no fur, no rage. silence, just her short, staggered panting. slowly she patted down her side, where the pain was almost unbareable. she felt something warm and sticky. Elle let out a sigh of relief as she recognised the signs of extensive injurty. She'd failed to notice it earlyer and had no doubt it occurred during the violent fight for her and her brother's life. Maybe I've been in shock?
Wiping her hands on her pants, Elle carefully raised her black top that had drunk up the blood and hidden the wound from herself. Pealing the blood soaked top back and twisting to get a better look, the full extent of the injury came into view.
"Ah crap," she muttered. It was big and it was mighty, "It's gonna need stitchs." Elle swore, even with her health insurance, all these hospital trips were going to add up into costing her a lot of money.
At least she was human. Elle just had to keep reminding herself of that. And as long as the cops didn't come knocking about a missing Jake, all would be fine. Jake. Something had gone oh-so-very wrong in that relationship. Something had gone oh-so-very wrong with Jake. How had she not known about him before hand? How did she not tell that he was…well a homicidal, pathological, lanthencropic psychopath. Well at least she had an excuse about the lanthercopic part. Up till a week or so ago she didn't even believe in God let alone werewolves. Now she wasn't sure about anything. Take the Easter Bunny for instance, was that real? Elle could go insane with these kinds of questions. Best not to think about them, best not to think about Jake either. Best not to look at the crispy remains of him lying paitently on the floor.
Boy was Ella going to have nightmares tonight.
"Screw it," Elle muttered, rolling the top back down over the wound. "I'm going to bed." sure she should really be taking herself off to the hospital, giving her kid brother a quick call on the mobile -assuming he'd taken it with him - and all that. But right now she was tired. More tired than she'd been in a while, not since mum and dad had died. Not since the funeral. Without really thinking, she picked up the now clean silver cake cutter to put back in the draw.
The cutter was burning hot, like acid. The pain ran like liquid fire up Elle's arm until she screamed and threw the antique piece of cutlery back into the sink. Gripping her hand she staggered back, knocking into the kitchen table, stepping on her dead ex.
Elle looked down at the burnt palm and seeing the already healing wound: screamed.