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Nine Months Later
I step off the train and take a look around. It looks different, but at the same time, it looks the same. It's been a year since I disappeared from here, but after a long fight I've returned to where I belong. I know that the chances that Ryan hasn't moved on are slim, but he is what kept me movitvated to come home. To break free of the prison that I was in and come home.
I walk through-out the town, not exactly big but not really small either. My hand grazes upon a light post when my eyes come in contact with a stained piece of priner paper. A piece of paper with my face and name on it. Maybe there's hope yet, I think to myself.
Just a few more blocks and I'll be at his office building. I feel the butterfiles in my stomach. I feel like a teenage girl whose about to tell her current crush that she likes him. I peer in a recently cleaned window at my appearance. I look horrible, like I've been held against my will for a year, but then again I have been. I straighten out my shirt and pants a bit before giving my hair some attention. Normally when my hair is this unruly I'd just put it up, but unforunately for me I don't have anything to put it up with. So I have to just smooth it out about as well as fingers can.
I peer into the window one more time and decide that I'm not gonna look much better than this without a bathroom and some hair care products. Damn these humid summers, they are horrible on my hair. I continue my journey down the sidewalk, I notice that some people have stopped to stare at me. They look at me like I've risen from the dead in a feat to walk the earth and feed on people's brains.
I just look at my feet and keep moving. I never noticed how weird the people around here can be. I look up and realize that I've reached my destination. I open the door, and enjoy hearing the dinging of the door. I realize that Ryan's secretary is out, I just hope that he's here. I hear his deep voice coming from behind his office door. I sigh to myself, no other noise on the planet could make her feel safer than hearing Ryan talk. I stand in front of the door, my stomach feels like it's in knots. I raise my hand to push open the door when I hear a woman's voice come from the other side of the door. My hand slides back down to my side, I feel like crying. I could I blame him from moving on? No, I don't think that I could. It's been a year, I couldn't expect him to wait forever could I?
I know that I have to tell him that I'm back. That I escaped from the hell that had been my home for a year, just to be with him. Well, maybe not that last part, not if he really and truly had moved on. My hand finds it's way back on the door, as it slowly pushes on it. The door squeaks open and there I am, standing in front of him.
His mouth flew open, and his eyes looked as if they might bug out of head. His lady friend turns her head to see what has Ryan in a complete mess. She turns white and stares at me, again as if I've risen from the dead. Did no one keep faith that I'd come back, that I wasn't truly dead.
Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out. He had dreamed that she would come back to him. He just never thought that it would really ever happen. After a year, my family and friends told me that it was unhealthly to hold onto someone that was quite possibly dead. I couldn't believe it, and I don't think that I ever really did. I could still feel her, I could feel that she was alive. I did, unforunately move on. Merely for the fact that I had made a promise that I couldn't bare to break.
Grace looked as if she had saw a ghost. I'm sure I don't look much less surprised than Grace. After a year, you almost have to assume the worst, but thank god the worst wasn't the case this time. Elizabeth was back, she was alive, and dammit she was standing right in front of me.
I once again open my mouth, trying to form some sort of coherent sentence. Normally I would try to be all romantic, but the pure shock running through-out my body was keeping any sane thoughts from my mind. Finally, after a long fight with myself, I am able to form a word.
“How?” I ask, thinking myself stupid for asking such a question.
I should be running up to her, grabbing her up in my arms. Thanking god and anyone else that she is alive. Instead, I ask why.
I waited for what seemed like an enterity for him to say something. Of course the first question out of his mouth, was the one question that I wasn't sure I could, or should answer. Of course I know why I was taken, and where I was taken to. Was my life ever in danger? No, of course not, but just because it wasn't in danger doesn't mean that it won't be. I struggle with myself, on whether or not I should tell him. Maybe if he was here alone this answer would have came more easily, but I wasn't sure that I wanted to be the kind of person to break two people apart.
I then start to wonder if I should have even graced them with my presence. I start to feel like the walls are closing in, I just want to get out of there. My mind started to spin, I felt faint, maybe it wasn't my doubt of whether or not I should be there. Maybe I'm sick, maybe....
I thank my lucky stars that I had started to walk toward Elizabeth. She started to turn pale, her eyes were blank. I knew what that meant, and I knew I had to get up to catch her. Luckily I got there right before she fell, and caught her right in my arms.
Grace got up from her seat, and helped me get Elizabeth into the chair. I sent her to the bathroom to get a wet cloth. I brush Elizabeth's beautiful sandy blond hair from her face. I stroke her hair back comfortingly, I hope that if she knows I'm here she'll wake up. Just to be on the safe side though, I grab my cell phone, and dial 911.
Grace enters back in, and places the damp cloth on Elizabeth's forehead. She looks at me worriedly. I know with the look in her eyes, that she's willing to let me out of our deal, out of my promise. I feel badly for both of them, I do love Grace. Although it's a love that has built out of comfort for each other, I still feel my heart flutter at the sight of Elizabeth. I sigh, I know that isn't going to be easy. It's going to be really hard, but then again life isn't supposed to be easy. As my father told me, life is a series of tests, they only get harder and harder the older you get.
It's been nearly five minutes since I called 911, and Elizabeth was still out cold. I could hear my heart beat louder and louder. It pounded into my ear, and I felt like I might faint myself. I could then, barely, make out the sounds of sirens. They were becoming louder, as they got closer. I quietly pray for Elizabeth, hoping that nothing is wrong with her. That she'll be fine.
I hadn't noticed that Grace had gotten up to meet the paramedics. I only noticed that two young men walked in, pulling gurney behind them. One started to get Elizabeth's vitals, the other one turned to me. I couldn't make out what he was saying, not over the beating of my heart. I take a deep breath, hoping to slow my heart beat so I can answer whatever question he thinks it fit that I answer.
“Sir...does she have a history of fainting?” I heard the paramedic ask finally.
“Not that I know of,” I answer truthfully.
If she did, it happened after she disappeared. I feel Grace slip her hand into mine. I know it's mostly to comfort me, but the only hand that would comfort me is Elizabeth's. I feel tears start slip from my eyes. I try to hide it, it's not exactly the most manly thing to do. I realize that Grace has noticed the tears sliding down my cheek, as she squeezes my hand a bit tighter, letting me know shes there.
“We've gotta move her out,” I hear the other one say, and my heart dropped.
I know that's not a good thing, and I felt as my legs gave out on me and I fell down to the floor. My head fell into my hands and tears streaked down my cheeks. I can't lose her again, not after getting her back...not like this.