BROKEN BEGINNINGS

Chapter 10 - Burn It Down

The smell is getting worse by the moment.

The smoke is building up invisible walls of burnt soot and ash, and also of time, burnt by unwisely standing here doing nothing to try to warn the people in the manor.

Sarah flounces into the room a moment later–clearly after a full costume change. Her forest green ball gown had been exchanged for a buttercup evening dress, complete with sunflowers and gold embroidery.

"Sorry about that, darling" she chirrups, her voice sweet and sticky, like honey straight from the hive.

"No worries," I dismiss, my words stretched and slow, as if stalling something that's coming. Whatever it is can't be too bad, right? Then I remember the fire. "Sarah! We need to get out of here! Right now!"

"What are you talking about, sweet? I'm sure whatever it is is most certainly just a mild inconvenience." Sarah drawled, sweeping to the sofa and fanning her dress around her dramatically.

I frowned as she pulled out a golden makeup mirror and began to reapply her makeup.

"We need to go, Sarah!" My voice rises an octave when she doesn't look up. "The manor is on fire!"

Sarah stiffens, the little round mirror slipping from her fingers. The silence begins to suffocate us, and is only pierced by the sound of the makeup mirror hitting the floor with an ominous clink. Rouge and shimmery powers spill across the carpet, the mirror's smooth silver surface cracked beyond recognition.

A look of horror finally settles onto Sarah's face and she bolts to her feet. I feel a sigh of relief filling my lungs–

"MY MAKEUP!!!" Sarah wails, sinking to her knees and trying to salvage as much powder as she could back into the ruined mirror.

"This place is about to burn to the ground, and you're worried about your makeup!?" I squawk in disbelief.

"It's the Glory of Youth! Shipped all the way from India! Have you any idea how much this little bit cost?" Sarah groaned, still on her knees.

There was no time to respond–fire suddenly exploded through the doorway on our left, flames devouring oak. Sarah screamed, leaping up and running to the other side of the room.

"Told you," I grumble, following Sarah as she races through the maze of halls that the mansion contains. Soon we're outside, running through inky black night, all the way to the broken-down house atop the hill dotted with gravestones.

I shoulder the door open, and double over panting in the foyer. Sarah slumps against the wall.

"Quite frankly, darling, I'm in need of a good spot of tea," She wheezes. I can barely find the energy to nod my head as I slog into the kitchen to prepare (per Sarah's request) strawberry rosehip tea with four sugar pebbles and a spring of mint, at lukewarm temperature in a porcelain cup.

"Rich people" I groan, heating the kettle and cutting the berries.

Twenty minutes later, I serve Sarah her tea on a silver tray (slightly rusty, but it was the best I could do). Sarah picks up her tea, pinkie up, and takes a sip.

"So..." I say, plopping down on the couch across from her. "How'd the ball dancing go? Did you manage to suffocate your unfortunate partner in that huge dress?"

Sarah's cherry lips curl into almost a snarl. "No, the duke's son never took any notice of me," She snorted.

"Speaking of which... Where is Dorian anyway?"

Sarah makes a choking sound, sloshing half the tea out of her cup and the other half down the front of her dress.

I eye her suspiciously. Sarah seems to know something I don't. Of course, she is always up-to-date with the latest gossip. "Sarah... what's going on?" I hate the tremble in my voice, but I can't do anything about it.

"N-nothing, darling, nothing, nothing at all," Sarah twittered, sweat beginning to bead her temples.

"Where's Dorian, Sarah," I hiss, my voice gaining a sharper edge. "He was in the manor when it burned down. What's. Going. On."

"Like I said, there's no need to worry. The fire won't affect him one bit," Sarah cooed.

A china saucer whizzed by her head, smashing on the greasy wall behind her.

"What do you mean 'won't be affected'!" I yell, preparing to hurl my entire teacup at her pretty, secret-keeping little head. Then the realization crashes into me.

Dead.

Either way, he was dead.

The world cracks into smithereens, shining shards crashing down, shining beauty cutting my body open, world black and scarlet. My vision a demented, damn kaleidoscope.

I stumble back, my blinking faster, static corrupting my vision like the thousand-colored bars on a television screen. My back hits the wall, and I'm finally grateful for the support of the greasy stone.

"Oh dear..." Sarah drawls, standing over me with a smirk. "I suppose it just... wasn't meant to be,"

A dam suddenly seems to crack inside me, my sadness and anger and fear and everything else in between spilling over.

My hand stretches out, feeling the splintered wood handle.

"Of course a bitch like you could never be worthy of--" Sarah goes on.

She can't finish. I don't let her.

With a flash of steel, the jagged point of the knife tears through Sarah's heart.