Read Online The Vault of Dreamers by Caragh M. O'brien - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Caragh M. O'brien
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miserable.
“That’s a nice purse,” I said.
“I hate this purse,” she said.
Okay , I thought. Wrong tack . “Sorry. That was stupid,” I said.
She wiped her eyes with her arm, and turned to me with a bleary gaze. “Who do you
even think you are?” she demanded.
I went very small inside. Very still. If Ellen knew what I’d been doing for the last
hour, she might think I was in for the kill, catching people at their lowest. She
was still glaring at me, expecting an answer.
“I’m Rosie?” I offered.
She stared at me another long, hard minute. Then she closed her eyes and seemed to
deflate. Her eyebrows crumpled together in a pleading way. “I’m just so tired,” she
said.
“I know,” I said. “Me, too.” And I was, suddenly.
She put her face down on her knees, curled her arms around her head again, and held
herself there. The knife was still an inch from her shoe. I was afraid to move. I
didn’t know what else to do. We dropped into an isolated morass of time that had never
begun and would never end, where my sole job was to listen to her breathing and stare
at the beige tiles on the floor.
It took forever, but I heard the outer door open and then footsteps.
“Rosie?” Janice asked.
I exhaled a silent sigh of relief. “In here,” I said. “I think we’re okay.” I had
no evidence of that whatsoever. I looked at Ellen. She slowly pushed the hair back
behind her ears.
“Can you open the door?” asked another voice. Dr. Ash.
“Give us a sec,” I said.
I pulled off some toilet paper and handed it to Ellen. She wiped her nose.
“Ready?” I asked.
She nodded. I got up, brushed off the back of my skirt, and helped her up, too. I
handed her the kitty purse and left the knife on the floor. Then I straightened her
shirt along the shoulders, like that would help. I tried to meet her eyes, but she
wasn’t looking at me.
Finally, I pushed over the lock and pulled open the stall door. We had to edge around
it one at a time. Beside Janice, Dr. Ash and a couple of medics were crammed in the
space near the sinks. The team quickly, gently surrounded Ellen, and in a surprisingly
short time, they guided her out. One of the medics collected the knife in a little
bag and looked back at me as he held the door.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
I nodded.
“You certain?” he repeated.
“Yes. I’m fine,” I said.
Janice reached for my camera on the shelf. “Do you want this?” she asked.
I didn’t want to use it anymore, and I didn’t have a decent pocket. “Can you stick
it in your bag for me?” I asked.
“Sure.”
I needed some air. We headed out of the chapel, and I saw an ambulance pulling away.
A light drizzle had begun to fall, and the shrouded light turned the buildings and
the lawns all the same slate gray. At the base of the clock tower, the rose garden
was a bleak tangle of thorns. I stood under the chapel awning with Janice beside me.
“I think you saved her life,” she said.
I didn’t want to talk about it. Ellen had rattled me in some dark place below words.
“Look at the time! It’s almost five,” Janice said. “We’re supposed to be over by the
auditorium.”
I glanced up at the clock tower, where the school motto was etched around the face
of the clock: Dream Hard. Work Harder. Shine. We had seven minutes until the fifty cuts. Down the length of the quad, at the far
end, I could see lights shining near the auditorium, and I felt a conflicted rush
of emotion. I still wanted to stay at Forge, but I was also completely disillusioned
about the cuts.
“Come on already!” Janice said. She went running down the quad sidewalk, holding her
bag over her head for shelter from the rain.
I hunched my shoulders and followed after.
Students were dodging the rain as they ran, and a crowd had gathered beneath an overhang
of the student union. I ducked under, too, just as the rain began to fall in earnest.
“That’s a nice purse,” I said.
“I hate this purse,” she said.
Okay , I thought. Wrong tack . “Sorry. That was stupid,” I said.
She wiped her eyes with her arm, and turned to me with a bleary gaze. “Who do you
even think you are?” she demanded.
I went very small inside. Very still. If Ellen knew what I’d been doing for the last
hour, she might think I was in for the kill, catching people at their lowest. She
was still glaring at me, expecting an answer.
“I’m Rosie?” I offered.
She stared at me another long, hard minute. Then she closed her eyes and seemed to
deflate. Her eyebrows crumpled together in a pleading way. “I’m just so tired,” she
said.
“I know,” I said. “Me, too.” And I was, suddenly.
She put her face down on her knees, curled her arms around her head again, and held
herself there. The knife was still an inch from her shoe. I was afraid to move. I
didn’t know what else to do. We dropped into an isolated morass of time that had never
begun and would never end, where my sole job was to listen to her breathing and stare
at the beige tiles on the floor.
It took forever, but I heard the outer door open and then footsteps.
“Rosie?” Janice asked.
I exhaled a silent sigh of relief. “In here,” I said. “I think we’re okay.” I had
no evidence of that whatsoever. I looked at Ellen. She slowly pushed the hair back
behind her ears.
“Can you open the door?” asked another voice. Dr. Ash.
“Give us a sec,” I said.
I pulled off some toilet paper and handed it to Ellen. She wiped her nose.
“Ready?” I asked.
She nodded. I got up, brushed off the back of my skirt, and helped her up, too. I
handed her the kitty purse and left the knife on the floor. Then I straightened her
shirt along the shoulders, like that would help. I tried to meet her eyes, but she
wasn’t looking at me.
Finally, I pushed over the lock and pulled open the stall door. We had to edge around
it one at a time. Beside Janice, Dr. Ash and a couple of medics were crammed in the
space near the sinks. The team quickly, gently surrounded Ellen, and in a surprisingly
short time, they guided her out. One of the medics collected the knife in a little
bag and looked back at me as he held the door.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
I nodded.
“You certain?” he repeated.
“Yes. I’m fine,” I said.
Janice reached for my camera on the shelf. “Do you want this?” she asked.
I didn’t want to use it anymore, and I didn’t have a decent pocket. “Can you stick
it in your bag for me?” I asked.
“Sure.”
I needed some air. We headed out of the chapel, and I saw an ambulance pulling away.
A light drizzle had begun to fall, and the shrouded light turned the buildings and
the lawns all the same slate gray. At the base of the clock tower, the rose garden
was a bleak tangle of thorns. I stood under the chapel awning with Janice beside me.
“I think you saved her life,” she said.
I didn’t want to talk about it. Ellen had rattled me in some dark place below words.
“Look at the time! It’s almost five,” Janice said. “We’re supposed to be over by the
auditorium.”
I glanced up at the clock tower, where the school motto was etched around the face
of the clock: Dream Hard. Work Harder. Shine. We had seven minutes until the fifty cuts. Down the length of the quad, at the far
end, I could see lights shining near the auditorium, and I felt a conflicted rush
of emotion. I still wanted to stay at Forge, but I was also completely disillusioned
about the cuts.
“Come on already!” Janice said. She went running down the quad sidewalk, holding her
bag over her head for shelter from the rain.
I hunched my shoulders and followed after.
Students were dodging the rain as they ran, and a crowd had gathered beneath an overhang
of the student union. I ducked under, too, just as the rain began to fall in earnest.
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