September 4th

Even though she hasn't been speaking or eating on a regular basis, Louise noticed the weirdness of Michael and Louise.

When Michael and Erin spoke, getting nearly nose to nose, Louise's eyes flickered out of the haze. After a few minutes of watching, she reverted back to marble.

Last night, Michael and Louise...Michael and Louise...well, I think they did stuff. TGIFF kinda stuff.

Around 3 am (not that I have a watch, just felt 3amish), Erin's giggles woke me up. She wasn't next to me like always, but she was next to Michael, under his covers-kinda next to him. Whispers and groans came from their corner in the basement. I almost coughed loudly, but they went to the bathroom and I didn't have to.

When the door closed, I heard zippers coming down. Using my blanket, I covered my ears to block out the inevitable moans. What surprised me were the tears blotting my eyes. I didn't think I could cry anymore after dad, and mom.

Yet, I blubbered over business which certainly wasn't mine. Well, it was sort of mine. Really, I cried because everything had gotten so twisted up. We used to be like a family, but Erin and Michael broke our family up for good.

(I'm going to lose her all over again.)

What seemed like hours later, the traitors left the bathroom. Michael came out first. Erin followed a few seconds after, going to her bed pallet with a strange limp. She settled into her blankets. Erin and Louise (who I hoped wasn't awake) caught each other's eyes. Erin looked away first.

A year ago, I could have never imagined anything improper happening between Erin and Michael. I don't know the extactos of doing It but I do know that's the word for what Erin and Michael did. The infamous It Gary always laughed about, making jokes about a process he didn't fully understand.

The Man has seen to the continued sex-ed part of my schooling. I know things Gary would never have imagined.

Thanks, you heartless bastard.

~*~

September 9th

When you can see ribs through clothes, anorexia has reached a critical point. Anorexia isn't regularly taught in 7th grade. Not where I'm from. Like most of the lessons I've been learning from day to day, I've learned about anorexia from experience.

Louise's ribs aren't poking through her grungy t-shirt just yet, but her chin is more defined than it was, and her collarbone is like a hanger-rod holding up her shoulders.

She sleeps most of the day, and with her lack of food, it's understandable. She has zero energy for anything else. Even when He comes to collect her, she shuffles to the kill room to do her duty. No screams or protests about it.

Because I'm worried, and because Erin couldn't do it herself, I talked with Louise today. I tried to reach her through the layers of hurt.

"Do you wanna know I why I really take care of the Wasters when no one else does?"

Her stare wouldn't have spurned on many, but I kept at it.

"I take care of them because that's what killed my mother."

A change in her blinking pattern told me I'd gotten her attention.

"See, after He killed my dad, mom had no hope. She stopped talking, stopped eating, stopped caring. Erin and I were scared of how skinny she was getting, and we tried to make her eat. Nothing worked." I thought it'd be easier to tell the story, seeing as how months had passed, but my voice still shook. "I remember the day I knew she wasn't coming back from it. I got up in the middle of the night, and there she was, awake. Her eyes were green emeralds flashing in her face. I still have nightmares about that night. Mostly because of her eyes. They weren't her eyes anymore. It was like she was already dead. A few days later, she fell to the floor and didn't get up. Hers was the first body Erin and I rolled up in the tarp for Him to take. Easy peasy, like trash."

Even though I wanted to cry, it wouldn't have been right. I swallowed the softball in my throat.

"The same thing's gonna happen to you." She wasn't looking at me. I tried again. "Louise, you're gonna die."

Louise didn't move. She didn't seem to be listening to me. My big guns had fallen flat. I decided to try another way.

"We've talked about a lot of things, but you've never mentioned how you and---" saying Michael's name right then would have been counter-productive, "----how you were taken. How did it happen?"

Quiet. I swear I could hear the sound of her wetting her eyeballs. My speech about death hadn't move her. Why would a conversation about her capture bring her around?

I stood up.

I took two steps before she finally spoke.

"On a Tuesday." Her voice broke, not used to being utilized in awhile. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Michael and I were on a date, at our favorite sushi restaurant. We ate the dollar sushi, but would have sprung for the lobster had we known it was going to be our last real meal. Anyway, we drank too much and had to walk home. Of course, we were scared of walking anywhere. Streets aren't safe. We went anyway. On the way, we stopped for cigarettes. Nasty habit." She shook her head. "Before I walked in the store, I saw red and blue light on the glass windows. A patrol car passed. I wish I could say I got a chill from how he looked at me, but it was the exact opposite. I smiled at him, my cute smile, too. He tipped his hat, and kept driving. I was sure that was the end of it."

Her story was longer than I had expected. My legs prickled with the beginnings of numbness, forcing me to sit down again.

"When we left the store, He was parked down the street, waiting for us. He told us to get against the wall. Michael refused and He threw me against the wall. That's when Michael got tasered for trying to help me. Both of us ended up in the back of His car for public drunkenness and assaulting an officer.

"We were still kind of drunk, but able to notice He wasn't driving near a police station. By the time we realized the trouble we were really in, He had locked us in the spare room in the basement."

I asked her another question on my mind.

"Why can't you and Michael get back together?"

During her story, she had continued staring at no one corner in particular. At my question, her head came around sharply.

"Nothing you did before matters." I told her before she could answer. "You both should know that."

From the way he shifted on his pallet, I could tell Michael overheard at least part of our conversation.

~*~