The Ashes

Chapter 15

Lolollllll it's been ages sorry
~

"I'll show you where it is, but I have to go pick up Cleo from school..."

"Thanks," I smile. He takes a right turn at the end of a road I've never been on before, walking through a small park then pointing out the street sign that matches the neat cursive on the label.

"I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?," he says.

"Bye, idiot," I tease, poking his arm and setting off down the road. He watches me go for a minute, before rounding the corner.

36 Daneswood Street.

The numbers start at 50, decreasing in 2 digit intervals at every door; the odd numbers are on the other pavement, across the road. After about a minute of walking, I reach number 36. None of the houses are particularly large on this street, but this house reminds me of a limpet, small and tough, clinging onto a rock despite the waves. It's coated in slightly scratched white paint, which frames the navy blue front door with the bronze numbers nailed to it.

I step through the front gates, walk a few metres to the front door, hesitantly ringing the bell after a momentary pause. I hear a muffled male voice shouting, and then muted footsteps that increase in volume as the person approaches. I begin talking when the door opens.

"Hi, sorry to disturb you, I think we got our bags - Gabriel?"

It is him; I'm not going mad. That's both unfortunate and creepily coincidental. Suddenly my voice catches in my throat as my eyes meet his stony stare.

"I - um, here," I mutter, my cheeks hot, handing him his bag.

"Thanks," he says in a clipped tone, taking it. "I'll go get yours."

He turns on his heel, leaving the door half open. I clasp my hands together behind my back, biting my lip. Up the stairs, I can hear a woman's voice, talking to Gabriel, I assume.

"Who is it?," she asks.

"Nobody."

"I'm going to go say hi," she chirps, and I can hear Gabriel's sigh from here. I self consciously rearrange my skirt and begin fiddling with my charm bracelet, a nervous habit I have. I don't even know why I'm nervous. The five centimetre gap widens, and a tall, slim woman appears in it.

Her light brown, slightly wavy hair, matching Gabriel's exactly is pulled back in a messy bun, a few strands hanging loose around her face. She's beautiful, or she would be if she didn't look so exhausted; dark blue bags hug the underside of her eyes. She still smiles cheerfully, and for the second that she does she looks ten years younger.

"Hello, dear. Are you a friend of Gabe's?"

"Um, I was just dropping something off. There was a bit of a mix-up...,"

"Oh, right. Come on in, um ...?" She trails off questioningly.

"Oh, Thalia. Nice to meet you."

"Charlotte," she introduces herself, shaking my hand.

"Well thanks for inviting me in, but I wouldn't want to disturb-"

"Nonsense, darling. Come right in." Her tone leaves no room for disagreement, so I follow her into the warmly lit corridor as she closes the door behind me. "What can I get you? Tea, juice?"

"Water is fine, thank you."

We open the door into what I assume is the kitchen, and she reaches up for a glass, opens the fridge and pulls out the jug. She fills the glass, and hands it to me. Before either of us has time to start a conversation I hear steps on the floor above. They get louder as they descend the stairs, then round the corner and attain the outside of the kitchen door.

Gabriel walks in, scowling as he sees me in his kitchen. He thrusts the bag into my hands, making meaningful eye contact with his mother.

"I'm sure Thalia has places to be, mum," he hints rudely. Not needing to be told twice I finish off my glass of water as she walks me to the door. That was quick.

"Thanks for having me, Mrs Fayers."

"Call me Charlotte, and anytime, dearie."

When she shuts the door behind me I hear Gabriel start to shout. The wooden door isn't enough to muffle his words.

"She's just a nosy girl from my science class! I don't want her in this house.", shortly followed by Charlotte's soft voice and then a stark "whatever." and the sound of a door slamming. Deciding that I've overheard enough, I close the gate behind me, paranoid that someone will have caught me eavesdropping. Gabriel is so rude.

It's almost dark outside. I dig my hands deeper into my pockets, then freeze. I have no idea how to get home. I could always walk back through the park, but everyone is told those stories when they are young; don't wander alone in parks at night.

I decide to take my chances with the road, hoping my sense of direction won't fail me. I step around a corner, pretty certain I'm going in the right direction. Several blocks later, I catch sight of the High Street. I let out a sigh I didn't realise I'd been holding, out of relief. As I pass a small, grimy pub, a voice calls out from behind me.

"Oi, love! Wha's a pretty young thing like yerself doin' wanderin' alone so late?"

I ignore the man's thickly accented growl, walking faster.

"Hey. I'm talkin' to ya," the voice gets closer. Before I can react a sweaty mass of a hand closes around my upper arm, spinning my to face its owner.

A wave a stale breath hits my nose, and I cringe away.

"Let go of me!," I try to tug my arm away.

"Hm," the man says, "don't think I will. We'll have plenty of fun."

~~~

HAHAHAHAHA I feel so evil
Enjoy the cliffhanger. Lol
Comment here if you're 5sos af.