Never Alone

Emily McGuffin was a girl who never smiled. With her perfect polished shoes, and her uniform always buttoned
to the very top, she was the perfect model student. She always sat alone at lunchtime, and was always the one
left out to be partnered for projects. She never spoke, and her face never changed. Her eyes have never sparkled,
and her black hair was always duly braided. Emily McGuffin was a girl who never smiled. Nobody knew why,
nor did they bother to find out.

She would always be the last one out of the classroom, after all the giggling groups of girls and talkative boys left
to be with their friends after school. As she walked to the main gates of the school, her head facing down, she would
always be greeted with a private car which would drive her to a flower shop. She always bought a bouquet of red and
white roses. And the car would drive her to a graveyard.

She would sit down at the dirt in front of the tombstones and take the flowers out of the bouquet, one by one. The
first, a white rose, symbolizing purity and innocence, would be gently placed atop her younger sister’s grave. The second,
a red rose, of passionate love and emotion would be cradled in her hands.

“This is from Mom.” She said to the tombstone, her voice calm, still, and quiet, as she placed the red rose
upon her father’s grave. “Mom loves you a lot, Dad. She may not be able to see you right now, but she will
soon. I promise.”

She would then stare at the graves, not saying a single word. Her expression never changed. She
would get into the car once again, and go home. The sound of her heels clicking across the marble
floor would echo through the large mansion, leaving nothing but the faint sound of screams from a
certain room. She would walk towards the noises, opening the glass door to reveal a well-furnished
white room. The only person in the room was a woman in her late thirties, cradling a small doll in
her hands as she erratically rocked in the rocking chair. Her hair was a mess, and large black circles
hung under her eyes.

She looked unhealthy and thin, her skinny fingers trembling as she brushed her hands over the doll. She
screamed at Emily as she came in.  

“N-no..! G-get away! Get away! Don’t take Emily away too!” She held the doll even closer to her, as her
eyes bugged out at the “stranger” in her room.

Emily’s expression didn’t change. She got down on one knee to the woman, looking down at the floor.

“I’m home, Mother.” She quietly said to her, who was already trying to bat at the air, holding the
doll protectively in her arms.

“Get away! Get away from me! I won’t let you hurt Emily like you hurt my husband and Eliza!
Go away! Go away!” Her voice was brittle, yet enraged and crazy. She reached for the stuffed animals
on her dresser and began to pelt them at Emily, who was still bowed on the floor. She didn’t try to dodge.
After telling her mother about her day, she left the room and went to her bedroom. She wrapped herself in her
blanket’s covers, burying her head in her pillow. After all those years of suffering and sadness, Emily had
become numb, disconnected.

There were always some nights, where she was alone in her own room, wrapped up in her covers, where there
were terrifying moments of vulnerability. Where she forgot how to feel. Where she forgot what a place in the
sun felt like. Where she forgot the very essence of happiness. And the emotionless Emily would hug her knees
to her chest, rocking herself to sleep, having nightmares of being chased and hunted down.

The next day, a transfer student entered her class. Emily paid absolutely no mind to him, acting how she usually did.

“You’re so easy to approach, Lucas!” A girl purposely got closer to him. “Unlike some people….”
Her gaze was aimed directly at Emily, who was sitting alone, reading a book.  She flinched,
but made no other sign that she heard the girl. There was a pause, as Lucas
looked over at Emily and moved his gaze back to the desk.

“Sara,” Lucas called calmly. The girl perked up at the mention of her name. “Why do you
think rats are hated by humans?”

“Well, it’s ‘cause they’re dirty, duh!” Sara laughed. Lucas stared up at her.

“Then answer me.” Lucas’ voice became colder. “Against this despicable act of unreasonable
hatred, which is dirtier?” Sara was unable to speak. The people around him had already started to back away.

“Don’t do this again.” His voice was sharp, as he glared towards the group. They dissolved,
muttering harsh words about the boy where they knew he could hear. Only Lucas and Emily were
left. Silence hung in between the two awkwardly, before Emily spoke.

“That was a foolish thing to do.” Her voice was completely monotone.

“Well, I was getting tired anyway.” Lucas replied boredly. “You should know just as well as I do that
smiling a fake smile and putting on a facade is hard, and tiring.” Emily sighed, closing her book.

“How do you assume that?”

“I can see it in your eyes. Those are the eyes of someone like me. Empty. Just a shell.”

“Hm.” She replied with a single syllable. “Perhaps so.”

“You’re interesting.” Lucas sat on a desk, twirling his pen. “I’m curious to see what made
you so warped.” He said to Emily, staring into her eyes.

She packed her schoolbag and walked out the classroom door. Before closing the door, she said coldly
to Lucas, “Don’t follow me.”

“Wasn’t planning to!” He called after her.

“So? Why are you here?” Emily deadpanned at Lucas, facing him outside of the flower shop.

“Look, I'm here to get something to visit my mother. I'm not following you.” Lucas put his hands up in surrender
as they both entered the flower shop. “A bouquet of white peonies, sir.”

Emily sighed and faced the florist for the millionth time. “......the usual.” When Emily arrived at the
graveyard, she met Lucas there once again, glaring at him skeptically. He simply tilted his head
and smiled back. When he kneeled down in front of a grave, no more words were needed. His smile
seemed a lot more forced. But still, the smile never wavered. His words echoed in her mind once again.

“Those are the eyes of someone like me. Empty. Just like a shell.”

Her gaze lingered on his still form for a while longer before turning away to leave. Just before she
took her first step, Lucas spoke, his voice eerily still.

“If you want to ask a question, ask away. You've noticed, haven't you?” Emily nodded, but still
kept silent. “About how my mother’s surname and mine are different.”

She noted how his eyes got darker and how his expression became more complicated.

“.......why peonies..?” Her quiet voice could barely be heard.

Lucas stared back at her, confused, before replying. “Hm… if I had to say, it was because
my mother liked how they smelled. Said they brightened up a room and made it smell better
too. A great bargain, she said.” His eyes seemed to grow softer as his gaze fell to her grave.

Emily left to return home soon after. Little did she know, only despair was waiting for her.

“Miss Emily! You've returned!” A maid ran up to her, frantic. “It’s….It’s your mother! She collapsed!”

“.....take me to her.” Her grip on her bag strap tightened, as a horrible feeling
started rising up her throat.

“B-but-!”

“I said to take me to her.” Emily could hardly register the cold, commanding voice as hers.
Soon enough, she was standing before her fragile mother, whose thin, trembling fingers still
held onto her doll. She was barely conscious anymore, with tubes covering every inch of her
body. The beeping of the heart monitor barely registered into Emily's mind as she rushed
to her mother's side, cradling her hand in her own.

“Who…...are….you?” Her quiet, weak voice scared Emily.

“It's your daughter, Emily.”

“You… aren't Emily. That…. child would never have….a voice so cold.”

“Mother….”

“But still….” Her voice cracked, and tears began to stream down her face. “What a horrible mother I
am…… In the end, I couldn't do a single thing for that child….” Her tears started flowing more intensely.
“Will she remember…. to brush her teeth everyday…? She’s clumsy….so what if she gets seriously hurt….?
If she….catches a cold, will….she know what pills to take? Will my little girl…find happiness…?”
She began to sob. “I’m sorry….I'm sorry……I'm sorry I left you all alone…! I'm sorry…..”

The heart monitor slowed to a steady, long beep. The doctor held his head in his hands, while the maids
and servants held on to each other, sobbing and hugging. Emily simply sat there, staring off into empty space.
Her hands were still intertwined with her mother's.

A day later, she stood out in the rain, staring at her mother's tombstone.

“.....left you all alone..”

Her mother’s words rung in her head. She really was alone now. There was nobody left. They were all gone.
Despite years passing, she had never really gotten over their deaths. Instead, she tried to hide the pain. How
idiotic. How idiotic of her to cling to the tiny glimmer of hope that lied in her mother. How childish of her to never
be able to accept their deaths. Only when she ended up completely alone, did her world fall down to ruin. How ironic.
Even so, Emily did not show a single hint of sadness. She kneeled down on the grave, and sat a while longer.

“Hey.” She looked up to find dark blue orbs staring back at her. Lucas. “Get back home. They're all worried.”

“Liar.” She thought bitterly.

He was silent, clearly noticing the extra tombstone. A few minutes passed before his voice hung in the air again.

“Who are you being strong for? Why don't you just cry if it hurts? Nobody here will judge you.”

“....leave me alone.” Lucas sighed before kneeling next to her. Without warning, he took her
head and buried it into his chest, hugging her close.

“Ow. That hurt.” Her voice was slightly cracked. “It hurts…..it really hurts…” She began to
cry. “.....don't leave me alone here…! Mom…! Dad…! Elly…!” The words she hadn't said for
such a long time felt almost alien to her tongue. Lucas was silent for a long time, doing
nothing but comfortingly patting her back.

“I'm here.” He finally said. His blue eyes shined with honesty. It was amazing how
two words could lift her burden so much. She was no longer alone.

Years later, Emily had a dream. She was in a classroom with her younger self. Young
Emily turned away from the window and stared at her.

“You seem happy. I hate happy people.” Her cold voice spoke.

“Yeah. I know.” Emily smiled nostalgically.

“And I hate group projects.”

“Because it emphasized your isolation.”

“And I hate cliques.”

“Because it felt like they were inadvertently rejecting you.”

“And…. I hate families.”

“.....because they had what you couldn't ever get again.” The older Emily paused
before continuing. “But you were wrong. Emily McGuffin was a girl who never smiled. But it's going to be okay.
Because...” She walked towards the younger her, leaning against the windowsill next to her.

“You aren’t going to be by yourself anymore.”