Page 91 of The Thief
So, I went over to have a look. And as I glanced down at the black ink on that paper, my heart fucking stopped.
To Mum and Daniel,
By the time you read this, I’ll be gone. Please don’t blameyourself. There was nothing you could do to help. But I can’t take it anymore. Every day they find me. Every day they make my life hell. I don’t want this life anymore. I want to be free.
Don’t be sad. I think you’ll be happier when I’m gone. I know I’m not an easy boy to love. I love you, though. I always will.
Elliot
P.s. Can you play the song Mad World at my funeral? I’ve always liked it.
Fear took hold of me like never before. My hands were clammy and shaking, my throat dry, and my heart pounding as adrenaline coursed through my veins. I shoved the letter in my pocket, not wanting my mum to see it, and bolted out of his room, darting down the stairs and out the front door without telling my mum I was leaving. I had to get to Joe’s house. I had to find Elliot before it was too late.
Why the fuck hadn’t Mum let him have a mobile phone when he asked for one?
Not being able to get a hold of him made me feel so fucking helpless.
I ran through the streets, dodging cars and bumping into people as I raced to get to him. My ears ringing as mymind played a horror movie over and over of what could be happening to my brother right now, or worse yet, what had already happened.
Blinkered to the world around me, I darted into the back alleys, taking the fastest route to Joe’s house. My feet pounded the pebbled paths as I skidded and ducked down the winding passages.
And then, as I burst around a corner, I ran smack bang into a body that’d been running the other way. Dazed, almost falling off my feet, I stared in disbelief and then utter relief at my little brother standing in front of me.
He was half panting, half crying, and instantly, my relief turned to anger when I saw the blood on his face, a redness on his cheek where he’d obviously been hit, and the glass in his glasses were shattered, making it impossible for him to see.
“Who the fuck did this to you, Elliot?” I demanded, grabbing him by the shoulders to take a closer look at his face.
“It’s o... okay. It’s over now,” he stammered, spluttering over his words.
“It’s not fucking okay.” I pulled the letter out of my pocket and held it up. “Not when I find this in your room.”
“You went in my room?” He hung his head and muttered, “You shouldn’t go in my room.”
“I’m fucking glad I did,” I barked back. “Are they down there? The ones who made you feel like this was the only way out?” I moved past him, trying to get down the alley, but he held my arm to stop me.
“Don’t go down there. It’s getting sorted out.”
“What? What is getting sorted out, Elliot? Because I’m your older brother, and if anyone should be sorting shit out around here, it’s me.”
Ishook him off and stalked down the alley, but as I turned a corner, I spotted a group of lads, some of them holding knives, ready to use them. Fearing for Elliot’s safety, I put my arm out to stop him from walking forward, and I took a step back, hiding behind a fence to watch what was going on.
As Elliot stood beside me, I whispered, “Which ones hurt you? Was it the kids with the knives? Or that tall one?” He looked like the ringleader of whatever was going on down there, a tall lad with a face that showed he gave no fucks. He’d likely hit first and wouldn’t even bother asking questions later.
“No,” Elliot murmured quietly. “He was the one who stopped it. The tall boy helped me. And his friends, the ones with the knives, they helped too. It was the other three. The ones who always wait for me outside school.” Elliot gasped, still trying to catch his breath, then he said, “The tall boy told me if I had any more trouble from the others, I should tell him. He said I had to remember his name.”
I turned to look at my brother. “And what is his name?”
“Adam Noble,” Elliot said, whispering the name like it was a sacred prayer or something to be revered.
I couldn’t deny, it made me jealous.
“Why didn’t you come to me? I could’ve helped you. I’m your older brother. It’s what brothers do. If someone has been waiting for you outside school, I should know.”
Elliot pushed his broken glasses up his nose, winced in pain and then muttered, “I didn’t want to bother you.”
I put my face close to his, so he’d hear me loud and clear. “Next time... bother me. I want to be bothered. Because if you ever feel like you don’t want to be here, I’ll remind you exactlywhy I need you to stay.” I put my hand at the back of his head and put my forehead against his. “You’re my little brother, Elliot, and I fucking love you. I’ll kill anyone who makes you feel like shit or hurts you. I will. You matter to me. And I’m here for you, always.”
Elliot nodded, sniffing as a tear trickled down his cheek. “Has Mum seen the letter?” he asked, not able to look me in the eye.
