Well, she has turned up. Or rather, the police found her, fast asleep in the park and covered in bruises, and worse. There’s blood on her clothes but no sign of injuries, so maybe it isn’t hers. She slept for hours: I think she was drunk. I doubt it was serious booze like vodka but if she got drunk on cider she must have had a lot of it. Her mum has locked her in her room to stop her going out again, but if I know Elle, that won’t stop her.
She’s stopped coming to school altogether now. I’m pretty sure that’s against the law, and I feel really awful about it, but there’s nothing I can do. To be honest, there’s not much point me going to school. I can’t concentrate without Elle there. I just keep seeing her empty place … or remembering her comments about this teacher or other … or remembering when I beat her in a test for the first time … Eleanor’s always just been there. She’s part of the furniture of my life and when she’s not there, I can see the big patch on the wallpaper where the paint didn’t reach because of that furniture.