Word count: 2292

𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 up at the two portraits that hung above the fireplace. 

It seemed that they were oil paintings, and honestly? They were pretty flattering. She most definitely didn't mind that these portraits were the highlight of the room. 

She stayed in that position for the next ten minutes, the same thought running through her mind over and over again: Was Five ever going to come back?

With a sigh, she got up and walked over to the bookshelf, hoping to find some comfort through words. Tracing her finger along the rows of books, she squinted her eyes and tilted her head as her gaze shifted from book to book. 

She suddenly paused, noticing a book that she had never read before. She pulled it out, her eyes widening when she saw the young Vanya on the cover.

This was her autobiography.

Elizabeth turned the book around, reading the blurb that was written in the back: Vanya Hargreeves is well known for her virtuosic skills as a violinist. Less understood is the role she played as one of Reginald Hargreeves' adopted children, standing alongside—but never counted among—the famous Umbrella Academy super kids. This is her story, in her own words.

Elizabeth then flipped the book open as she took a seat back on the couch. She rifled through the book, reading a sentence or so from each page. She suddenly became a bit nervous as she approached a heading at the very end of the book, which read: SPECIAL NOTE: NUMBER EIGHT.

Elizabeth folded her legs under her as she began to read.

Number Eight was different from the rest of the Umbrella Academy super kids. Not only because she arrived fourteen years later, nor because her number didn't represent her strength or rank. No, Number Eight was different, because she was the sole living person who cared about me.

When Elizabeth had first arrived in September of 2003, I had avoided her. I was afraid she'd treat me the same way the others did, so I didn't give her the chance. I expected her to be prideful, to be as self-absorbed as the others were, especially when we found out what her powers were. She could manipulate energy and was gifted with incredible intelligence. With that, I thought, there's no way she wasn't like the others.

But my mind was soon changed.

November 18th, 2003. Elizabeth came into my room while the others were on a mission, and we simply talked. Talked about my violin, her past life, about life at the towering building we called home . . .

I had never just talked with anyone.

I remember how she formed a ball of great, golden energy in her hand and offered it to me. I remember the tickle it gave me as I held it, and the smile Elizabeth shared. I remember that she knew what my favourite sandwich was—peanut butter with strawberry jam—and offered to make one for me. I remember her calling me her friend.

No one had ever called me their friend before.

That day, I felt the most content I had ever been. But that wasn't the last time that joyous feeling occupied me.

We'd study together, whenever I asked. Even if she was busy with something else, or if she was hanging out with the rest, she would drop everything just so she could help me. I appreciated it. And while we studied, she encouraged me. Told me I was more than smart enough. She said that I didn't need superpowers to be successful, in both algebra and life.

She complimented my violin playing, something the others found themselves unable to do. She gave me the confidence to continue. She'd sit in my room and listen, clapping and cheering after every song came to its end.

February 25th, 2006. The Umbrella Academy had gone for a hostage situation. They came back quickly, much quicker than normal. I wondered why Elizabeth didn't visit me afterwards. She usually did after missions, giving me a play-by-play of what had happened. She was the sports announcer, and I, the roaring crowd.

The house was quiet. Then, grumbling and footsteps. I went over to Luther's room, to find everyone sitting there. Everyone but Elizabeth. I asked where she was.

"Diego stabbed her," responded Five.

My heart fell to the ground. It took less than a second for tears to come to my eyes. The one person I truly loved in this family was on the brink of death, and due to another family member, at that.

Ben came to Diego's defence, telling me it was an accident.

Accident or not, she was dying.

The next couple of days were painful. Elizabeth had been stabbed in the liver. We were constantly worrying about whether she was breathing or not. Even our mother—who we always thought knew everything—wasn't sure if she was going to survive at first.

We were in math class when a knock came on the door. Elizabeth entered, her skin a little paler than usual, and slightly limping, but alive and healing. I was happy again.

She included me in everything we did. She'd talk to me when the others ignored me. She'd defend me whenever the others said something unkind. She'd invite me to group studies. Whenever the kids would go to Griddy's Doughnuts, Elizabeth always brought me along.

There's one specific time I remember from an outing to Griddy's Doughnuts. March 21st, 2006. The others had been talking about a store robbery they had stopped that day, bragging in their own ways. I was quiet. I had no input in this. I wasn't there. The others reminded me of that with every irritated side glance.

Elizabeth noticed my silence. She turned to me and asked me what was wrong. I told her that everything was fine, I was just tired. But that was far from the truth.

With a smile, she grabbed my hand and led me in a dance that didn't match the music that played in the diner. Still, I found myself unable to stop. We danced in the empty space, spinning and jumping. I was never a dancer, but that night, I was.

The next day, we had ballroom dancing lessons, as per Elizabeth's request. I started out dancing with Ben, who awkwardly stumbled and stepped on my toes, although he spent half of the time apologizing for doing so.

Elizabeth had danced with Five. Then, she switched to Diego. Then, to my surprise, me.

She giggled and winked, telling me that we were the best dancers. After a few moments of dancing, I asked her why she was so kind to me, the others were anything but the opposite.

I remember what Elizabeth told me in response, word-for-word.

"I guess I know what it feels like to be by yourself all the time, without friends or any feeling of worth. I don't want others to feel like that. Besides, you're just as much my sibling as the others are, so why shouldn't I treat you the same? You're an amazing girl, Vanny, don't let the others fool you into thinking anything else."

These words got me through so much. Every time my father reminded me that I was nothing. Every time the others would give me a look that told me I was low-level scum in their eyes. Every time I was alone in my room while the others were gone. I remembered that at least I had Elizabeth.

Until I didn't.

November 10th, 2006. We were eating breakfast in silence, as usual. Five got up, demanding our father let him time-travel. Our father denied. Upset that he didn't get his way, Five ran off.

Elizabeth stood. I knew what was going to happen, and I pleaded with her to stay, as did Diego. She apologized, and she promised she'd come back in a minute.

One minute passed. Then two minutes passed. Then three minutes. Then four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

Minutes turned to hours. Hours turned to days. Days to months. Months to years.

She never came back.

At first, I was mad. Mad that Elizabeth had lied. Mad that she got away from the insufferable life that we lived. Mad that she had left me alone.

But I soon realized that I had owed it to her to not be mad. She spent the last three years making sure that I never felt worthless. Making sure I was cared for. That I was happy. I shouldn't be mad at her for living her own life.

Life was painful after she left. It had clearly taken a toll on everyone. She was like a ray of sunshine, and the weather forecast had only become stormy from then on. It went back to how it was before she had arrived. I was alone. I wasn't invited to anything. I wasn't talked to. I was just Number Seven.

The group took it hard. Her absence created a large crack in the dynamic. No one wanted to train. No one wanted to study. No one wanted to do anything. Not without Elizabeth. The group rebelled more. They talked back to our father. They didn't listen. The death of Ben was the last hit that broke everything. One by one, everyone left. All the suffering, all the sadness, the lingering of death, all rooting from November 10th, 2006.

I miss Elizabeth. I miss the girl who made me feel as special as the others. The one who constantly reminded me that I was wonderful on my own, and didn't need superpowers to be happy. The one who only brought me up. The one who loved me. The one who always believed I wasn't extra ordinary, but rather, extraordinary.

Elizabeth smiled as she came to the end of the note. She had no idea how much her words had impacted Vanya, but she was happy that they did.

She put the book down next to her and sighed. While it seemed that the others were mad about this book, Elizabeth thought that it was more than fair that it was written; it was the honest truth. And to reiterate: some of them were complete assholes (Diego very much included).

There was the sound of footsteps behind her, causing Elizabeth to look towards the archway entrance.

Vanya's walking faltered as soon as she saw who sat upon the couch, a look of shock that matched the others' instantly displayed on her face.

"Holy crap," Vanya breathed out as she rushed up to Elizabeth, who had gotten up, and embraced her. "Ellie, you're—you're back!"

"I am," Elizabeth chuckled weakly, barely able to breathe in the bone-crushing hug that Vanya was giving her. She smiled as she hugged her back tightly, breathing in the homey scent that she had missed so dearly before kissing the side of her head.

"Where did you go?" Vanya questioned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she released Elizabeth.

"I was trapped in one of my portals," Elizabeth explained briefly as the two sat back down onto the couch, facing each other. "That's why I'm still in a seventeen-year-old body."

"Oh my God, that's terrible." Vanya's eyebrows furrowed in concern as she inspected the girl in front of her. "I'm sorry you had to go through that . . . . Being alone for that long must've been horrible."

"It sucked, but I'm happy I'm back." Elizabeth shrugged, giving Vanya a reassuring smile.

Vanya's eyes looked past her and landed on the book that rested at the end of the couch. She swallowed, obviously not sure how Elizabeth felt about the writing. "Oh. You read that?"

"I did. It's good." Elizabeth smiled, giving a small nod to help emphasize her words. "I had no idea you were such a good writer! You're much more talented than me in so many things: violin, writing, dancing . . ."

Vanya laughed lightly, looking down at the book as she shook her head and her smile faded. "You have no idea how much I cried while writing that note. I usually tried not to think of the memories, but writing it all out just . . ."

"I'm sorry that I left you, Vanny," Elizabeth said softly, placing a caring hand on her shoulder and squeezing it lightly. "Trust me, I didn't want to. I really thought I'd be able to come back."

Vanya smiled, chuckling slightly as she looked up at the ceiling. "You wanna know something stupid? I always used to leave the lights on for you and Five. I was scared that you would come back, it would be late, and the house would be dark and you wouldn't be able to find us, so you'd leave again. So, every night I'd make a little snack and make sure all the lights were on."

"Oh, I remember your snacks," Pogo chuckled as he walked in, his cane in his right hand while he gave a small nod of greeting. "I'm pretty sure I stepped in half those peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches."

Elizabeth gave a small smile as she looked back up at the portraits, Vanya and Pogo doing the same. She examined them for a few moments, her eyes taking in every stroke of the paintbrush and the contrasting colours as Five and herself stared down at her.

Pogo sighed as he turned back to the two girls, "Your father always believed that you and Number Five were still out there somewhere. He never lost hope."

Elizabeth pulled her knees closer to her chest, letting out a small sigh as she rested her chin on them. "Well, I guess he was right about me."