Gone

When I awake, my body feels achy and stiff and I realise I've been sleeping in a ball. I sit up and pull the covers around me, preserving the warmth. I look around my room, a place I have slept in for years, and realise that the only main change that has happened in this room since I was little was when my parents changed the cot for a bed and then when they changed the sickly mustard yellow walls to a sky blue when I was eight. My room is the smallest of them all in our tiny home, only able to fit in a bed and a small chest of draws. I don't mind because I have come accustomed to the rather small room, that's why I let my baby brother, Chorn, have the other room. And because that room holds too many memories for me, mainly memories including my other brother. I miss Grimshaw dearly but he had to leave to save us from something that was never made clear to me. Grimshaw and I were always close and it ripped me into bits when he left, it took me a while to start talking to my parents again after I blamed them for his quick departure. At least now I know it wasn't their fault that he left, they even tried everything in their power to stop Grimshaw from leaving. Grimshaw told me right before he left, "This is something I have to do, Dark Flower, but don't worry. I'm sure I'll be okay and don't take it out on mum and dad, they have tried many times to stop me but that's what makes us different, me and you, from the rest of them. Because no amount of discourage from them would ever stop us from doing something that we know we have to do. Just remember that," he sighed slightly, "if you know that you need to do something, can feel deep inside that you need to do it then don't let anyone stop you. I have to go now but I promise to come back for you one day. I love you." and with that he got into a truck and drove away. I cried for hours on end that night, curled into a ball on his bed. No one bothered me that night.
As I sit here now, I can't help but think about Grimshaw. It has been six months since he left and I haven't heard a thing from him and this is the longest I've been without seeing him. I miss Grimshaw more and more each day and some days I think I see him in town but then I do a double take and find that I'm mistaken.
There's a light tap on my door but I don't answer, I know it's just mum making sure I'm up. The door starts to open and this is when I realise it isn't mum and I stare blankly at his hand gripping the doorknob. His dim green eyes assess the room and me, as he stands in the doorway gripping the door handle. He has never been this far into my home before, never actually been in my house. I'm still looking at his hand, which I've held many times before, and it looks so wrong to be placed on my doorknob. He's too polished and clean to be in my house, out of place even. He's too well fed, stocky and pristine to be in my cavelike home. I look down now and sigh, I don't want him in here at all. Not now, not ever.