Crimson

one

Imagine a sky full of stars, where every inch of gray is covered in cosmic light. Not even a thousand moons could emit the glow that has eloped the part of the world you are standing on. And not only is it lighting the sky; but it's warming the very blood flowing through your veins, setting fire to your core, making you feel alive. But then, all of a sudden, the stars burst into billions of fragments; transforming the orbit into fireworks that crack and screech across the sky, hissing into the atmosphere. The light dwindles, and you are swamped in black. It's like the air has been knocked out of you and this immense pressure mounts your chest, making it impossible to move. And just like that, the fire within you has turned to ash and you can't remember what it's like to not feel numb.

That's how it felt when I lost my brother.

The grass was stained a sickening red for days after I found him, and the sky refused to rain. It was as if everywhere I looked reminded me of him. I couldn't escape him.

I tip my head back to look at the sky now, pulling in a deep breath and focusing on the feel of the ground beneath me, reverberating through my body as I take each step. The sky is a bundle of clouds, and I can feel a slight spot of rain hit my cheek every so often. The evening is drawing closer, but there are no stars here. The city churns out pollution so that only a scatter of them can be spotted on a very clear night. Tonight though, I will be lucky if I can find one. Instead, an artificial yellow hue is beginning to light the paths, as the streetlights and billboards come to life one by one. 

This city is the perfect balance between manmade chaos and untouched nature. If I look to my right, I can see rows of shops practically piled on top of each other, but if I look further along the path and up where the hills meet the sky, an old medieval castle stands tall and somewhat untamed. I've fallen in love with the city since I moved here two weeks ago, and I can already tell it'll be one of those places that you just can't shake.

My flatmate is waiting outside our dorm when I arrive, scuffing her trainer against a wall that looks as if it's about to topple. She almost blends in with the building behind her, overgrown moss pairing with her green overalls.

"Hey you," she sends me a toothy smile, "How was your day?"

"It was good. Stressful, but good," I press my back against the cool glass of the door behind me, "How was yours?"

"Splendid," she articulates.

"Ah, you're getting the hang of it." 

I move away from the door as someone comes out of the building, umbrella in hand. She must be anticipating the rain too.

"Well, it's only fitting that I conquer the British accent. I keep telling you, I was born in the wrong place."

I laugh and swing my arm around her. Ivy only moved here a few weeks before me, but she had to adjust to a whole new country, whereas I have only come a few hours from my hometown. Part of me longs for that freedom, of starting fresh in somewhere foreign to me. Because even though I've escaped the worst of the grief from being at home, there is something I just can't shake.

"Are you sure you can understand your classes? Our language must be so difficult to grasp." 

I tease.

"Very funny. But honestly, it doesn't matter what language that man speaks, I do not understand this week's assignment."

"Can't help you there, drama is not my forte."

"Well if I could switch brains with you I would," she shoves me playfully, "Smartass."

Going to University was never in the plan, let alone choosing Psychology as my degree. But it was the only thing that felt right if I wanted to feel closer to my brother. I had never understood him, and it was almost scary to me. Because at times, I actually despised the way he was, and that is the part of myself that will always disgust me.

A sudden sharp pain shoots up the side of my back and I jump forwards, shocked. Ivy steps to the side quickly and lets out a grunt as a man shoves himself past us, the door swinging back behind him. Goosebumps break out over my skin as he brushes past me.

"What an asshole," Ivy mutters, shooting him a hard glare, "He could've just asked us to move. British people are so rude...no offense."

Ivy's voice becomes muffled, my eyes fixated on the man as he walks away, movements sudden, yet fluid.

"Are you okay?"

Concern coats her voice. She nudges me. The man stops for a moment and turns his head, eyes finding and fixating on me. I dig my nails into the palm of my hands, finding balance. It's almost as if I have suddenly become aware of the earth turning. I try to avoid his intense stare, but it's almost impossible to ignore. His eyes are a striking blue, almost unnatural, like someone has taken neon ink and mixed it up in a pot. I wrap my arms tighter around my body, feeling the wind biting me, almost freezing. My gaze wanders down his body, noticing dark patterns swirling around his wrists...

Swirling.

"Amity!"

Ivy's voice makes me jump. She's glaring at me with wide eyes. I let out a breath of air that I didn't know I was holding. Tattoos don't move, I remind myself. In fact, it seems as if he wears them almost like a second skin.

"Mhm. Sorry," I struggle with a laugh, "What the hell was that about?"

Ivy frowns, still side-eyeing me, "I don't know."

I look back out to where the man was standing, but he has disappeared, merging with the bustling bodies on the street. The air feels warmer now, and I relax my hands back to my sides. I must be tired.

"Anyway," I shake my head, trying to pull myself back to reality, "We should go inside. Get ready for tonight."

The tension in Ivy's shoulders eases a little, but the frown etched into her forehead remains.

"Yeah, we should. Are you sure you're up for it? You've never been clubbing before."

"If I don't do it now I never will. And who better to show me than the party Queen herself?"

I smile and push open the door. A small jolt of electricity shoots down my fingers, and I flinch slightly, skin prickling. I rub my hand against my jeans as we ascend the stairs.

"I've never seen that guy before," I bite my lip, "Maybe he transferred."

"He got here around the same time that I did." 

Ivy skips up the steps, two at a time.

"You know that guy?"

"Yeah. He came into my lecture the other day and we spoke briefly. He must not have recognised me."

I take the stairs one at a time, still feeling a bit dizzy. A familiar feeling has settled along the bottom of my stomach, making me feel uneasy. I try to ignore it, reminding myself that I'm not at home. I'm here. In this new place, with a new friend and a brand new life. It's taken me so long to feel even remotely like my old self again, but now what, I'm hallucinating things? Oh god. Maybe I do need a drink. 

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