Run | Elizabeth Olsen

twelve.

DECEMBER FOURTEENTH | 2016

Isabella was back in the same funk she'd been in before crossing paths with Elizabeth. She went to work when she was needed, she joined the twins for an occasional dinner or movie night, she responded to emails and sorted out contracts, but for the most part, she stayed isolated from society in her lonely bed wearing soft pajama sets that only reminded her of Elizabeth. She wished it was Elizabeth wearing her too-small pajamas on her long body, she wished it was Elizabeth she was going to dinner with on random weekdays, she wished it was Elizabeth who hid away from society with her instead of a raggedy looking teddy bear she's had since childhood.

Moral of the story, Isabella hated being alone. She hated being alone but she didn't want to go out for a stiff dinner and socialize with people that only wanted to hear about the good things in her life. She could always call Mary-Kate and Ashley, but they were busy women and taking up the little free time they had during the evenings felt selfish, so instead she lounged around her apartment and watched old sitcom re-runs until her head hurt and she fell asleep. She could always take Scarlett up on her offers to meet for coffee, but she knew the woman had enough on her plate and a media storm about potential infidelity because god forbid two women just be friends definitely wouldn't help, so instead they texted throughout the day, but even that wasn't enough. She needed Elizabeth, the woman who understands what she was thinking without her even needing to say anything. The woman who picked her up from work with a bouquet of her favorite flowers just because she wanted to. The woman who wanted to know all the shitty little details of her life and never judged her for any of it. She just wanted her friend back, as hopeless and pathetic as it sounded.

Currently, Isabella was laid across her bed with her greasy hair tied up into a messy bun because even showering felt like too much effort. It wasn't only missing Elizabeth that was weighing her down, it was her father as well, but most importantly, it was Nina. December hadn't been a happy month for the youngest daughter of William Booker in so many years, but as she got older and she experienced more, the reasons to hate it were beginning to pile up and now the month just felt suffocating.

At first, she'd hated December because her family was separated. Her sisters got all the nice clothes and expensive gifts and quality time, and all she got was an alcoholic single mother who passed out on the sofa before noon rolled around on Christmas Day. She got a mother who was so constantly intoxicated, she didn't remember her youngest daughters birthday. Then, she hated December because even after she moved to LA and had a shot at happiness, her mother passed away and everything just felt so empty and dull when it shouldn't have, but to a fourteen year old girl, losing your mother, abusive or not, felt life altering. But, then she met Nina Evans, and it felt like everything was coming together. She had an attentive girlfriend, and her relationships with her sisters was on the mend until they weren't, and everything fell apart again because that's all it ever seemed to do. Nina turned into the woman she hated and Carolina packed her bags and moved away just like Addison had. Now, she didn't even have her father. She didn't have a mother, she didn't have family dinners and stupid gift exchanges; all she has are memories of a horrible breakup and pathetic texts from her sisters that are so impersonal it makes them seem like strangers.

Isabella sighs in defeat. She doesn't want to sit here thinking about Nina, but her mind kept falling back into that dark place where all of their worst moments lived on a loop. She couldn't get their last conversation out of her head, forced to listen to the berating words and feel the harsh slaps against her skin. Every time she closed her eyes she remembered the night she ended things — the night she finally had enough courage to walk away. It had ended with bloodshed, but most of their nights did so it should've have surprised her, but somehow she was always surprised when Nina laid her hands on her. That night, Nina had gone berserk. She'd pinned Isabella to the wall of their shared bedroom with a cold hand around her neck. She'd slapped her enough times to make her nose bleed and her cheek bruise. She'd looked into the eyes of the woman she said she loved, and all Isabella saw was hatred.