Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Naomi’s eyes were glued to the cockroach as it scuttled across the floor. Mia’s breakfast bowl lay on the floor between them and the pest clearly had designs on it. He wasn’t the only insect in the place, but he was certainly the boldest. Reaching down, Naomi plucked the bowl off the floor, whisking it out of his reach. It was a tiny victory, but a victory nevertheless.
Looking down at the contents of the bowl, however, it was hard to tell exactly what her prize was. Their breakfast had been a foul mush to begin with, but the half-eaten remnants were even more unappetizing now – totally congealed and solid, with a tough crust forming on top. How anyone could eat this, insect or not, was beyond comprehension.
‘You should finish it.’
Naomi looked up to find Mia staring directly at her. Her new friend was sitting with her back against the wall, her chin resting on her knees.
‘You’ve got to keep your strength up,’ she croaked.
‘I’m not sure I can,’ Naomi replied, staring at the unappetizing fare.
‘You have to. You’re strong, you’re healthy, you can fight this thing. There must be people out looking for you, right? If you can hold on, maybe they’ll find you, get you out of here …’
‘Find us ,’ Naomi corrected her. ‘We can both get out of here. We just have to be patient.’
Naomi was trying hard to sound upbeat, optimistic, but it made no impression on Mia.
‘I’m not kidding myself,’ she replied soberly, wheezing after another harsh bout of coughing. ‘I’m too far gone. But you can survive, you must survive. I want someone to know what happened to me …’
The teenager’s voice shook, prompting an instant response from Naomi.
‘Don’t say that, Mia. You’re not going anywhere, you’re going to be fine.’
‘Do I look fine?’
Mia’s resignation was crushing but, looking at her, Naomi couldn’t deny she had a point. The teenager was skeletal and so pale that her gaunt features seemed to glow in the darkness. If there was a spark of life within her, it was hard to see.
‘There you go then,’ Mia concluded brusquely, wiping her nose with her sleeve, before coughing violently once more. ‘I don’t want your sympathy or your pity, Naomi. I just want to you to fight. To survive .’
Naomi said nothing at first, the concept that one of them might die down here too awful to comprehend. But what Mia had said made total sense.
‘What’s … what’s wrong with you?’ Naomi asked tentatively. ‘I can see you’re ill, but …’
Naomi knew the words were coming out wrong, that they were ham-fisted and clumsy, but she had to ask. Mia’s coughing was so brutal, so violent, that Naomi had imagined all sorts of dire scenarios. Now she wanted to know what she was facing. What they were facing.
‘Bronchitis,’ Mia answered, gasping gently, trying to ward off another coughing fit. ‘I’ve had it on and off for the last two years, but never as bad as this.’
‘Jesus, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault, is it?’ Mia countered ruefully. ‘I’ve been on the streets for over two years, on smack for eighteen months. It’s not a great combination, is it?
Naomi offered a half-smile, but privately was shocked. She’d witnessed drug-taking many times, of course, but this girl seemed so young, so innocent, only sixteen years old at the most. It beggared belief that she’d been hooked on hard drugs for over a year.
‘Isn’t there anything you can do about it?’ Naomi asked, increasingly desperate. ‘Anything that could make you feel better?’
‘Of course, but do you think he’s interested?’ Mia responded, her tone laced with anger. ‘I’ve begged him for medicine, for decent food, for some bloody caffeine at the very least, but he’s only interested in what he wants.’
Naomi was staring at her, horrified, so Mia now softened her tone.
‘Look, I’ve tried to fight it, but I’ve nothing left. I’ve only got days, Naomi, so please, don’t give up. I need you to live. I need to you to tell my dad, my mum that I love them, in spite of everything I’ve done, I really love them …’
Dropping her face to her hands, Mia began to cry, her chest heaving wildly in between harsh coughs and bitter tears. Angry, desperate, more saddened than she could say, Naomi looked down at the bowl’s contents, then furiously spooned the sloppy muck into her mouth, forcing the remainder down, before tossing the metal bowl onto the floor with a clank. Immediately, the cockroach was on the move again, scuttling towards it.
This time Naomi didn’t hesitate, balling up her fist and angrily crushing the pest.