Broken Feathers

Elastic Heart

Chapter Twelve: Elastic Heart (Sia) 

  

The morning before the dance, I had risen early – I had noticed on my many trips into town to meet Star for coffee, that there was a small paint shop at the end of the street, and given that I was quickly running down on essential colours, I felt that perhaps it was time to do an errand run.  

Leaving Kalem to sleep in, I pulled a hoody over my t-shirt and disappeared out through the front door, wandering down the four flights of stairs to reach the bottom. It was a cool, crisp sort of a day, and the campus birds were just beginning to wake up as the sun rose over the top of the prep.  

I breathed in, letting the cold air hit my lungs. There was something very life-affirming about seeing such beauty when no-one else was around. It was like it had been rolled out for my benefit, to remind me that life was getting better. The tux was in the wardrobe, freshly pressed and washed by my mam, who has squealed when I had turned up on Sunday to tell her that I was taking a girl to the dance.  

It was probably a lot messed up, but the pride in her eyes had made me feel like for once I'd gotten it right. As though by participating in this tiny event, I was making a huge impact on a number of people. 

Gravel crunched beneath my feet as I made my way towards the huge, ornate gates that separated the Prep from the outside world. They were opened up wide, as they normally were – apparently, there had been only one point where they had closed and that was during an assassination attempt, and the Prep had gone into lockdown. Scary, huh? 

Town was a short walk from the school, and it wasn't long before rows of houses came into view. With houses, came the sound of early morning commuters getting into their cars and driving past me at snail's pace. The shop in question was situated just around the corner from the coffee shop, and when it came into view there was a familiar warmth that spread through me. Some people were obsessed with collecting stamps, others liked fancy shells. Me? I was over the moon receiving a new paintbrush.  

The bell above the door jingled as I entered, and the scent of oil paint and fresh wood filled my nose. Damn, this was a happy place. Of all the places in the world, I could quite happily spend the rest of my life in here. 

A squat little woman behind the counter smiled at me warmly before going back to checking something on her till. I browsed, running my fingers over the different types of canvas and papers, before finding a back wall dedicated to different paints, tones merging and blending as they climbed up towards the roof. 

After a good half an hour deciding what to buy, I eventually came away with two bags full of new paints. Kalem was probably going to get snarky about the lack of space we already didn't have but nothing was going to dull the happiness that came with buying my booty.  

Taking a shortcut up an alley, I thought about waking Kalem up with a nice breakfast. Perhaps that would soften the blow that I had returned home with new art stuff. However, as I traipsed up the small gap between buildings, I became increasingly aware of footsteps.  

Jerking my head around, I spotted a dark shadow. Nothing...causing the shadow. Just the shadow. I frowned, speeding up slightly. The air, whilst it hadn't been particularly warm to start with, had begun to grow colder and the hairs on my arms began to stand on end. 

Strange... 

Suddenly, I looked up, and someone was standing in the middle of the alley, their face obscured by a dark hood. Starting to feel unnerved by it all, I turned, walking quickly back the way I had come.  

Pain shot through my body as though I'd been stabbed; an icy stab to my senses that had me fall to the ground in agony. My face hit the ground with a dull thud, adding to the already painful sensation shooting through the rest of my body. A cold fire ripped through my veins, chilling me to the very core. I was faintly aware of the shadowy figure standing over me, as my lungs struggled to contend with the laboured pants that were emanating from my lips.