Graveside Manners

Chapter Two: And so it begins.

'Chryssie'

She said again with horrified surprise. I just looked at her with horrified realisation, feeling myself slip into an emotionless state. I carefully kept my features blank as I watched her. She'd changed. I supposed I had as well. I mean it has been practically over a decade. We were bound by nature.

Aurelia Grayson, Lori to just about everyone but a choice few who dared to utter her full name. It had been a while, but I hadn't forgotten about her. I couldn't. No matter how much I really, really wanted too. She'd meant so many things, had been my best friend and sister. She still meant a lot of things, but none of them good.

I noticed she had cut her raven coloured hair short. To just below her chin. It surprisingly suited her, despite her adamant covenant to never let a pair of scissors near her head again, when we were eleven and her mom gave her a haircut. There were bangs involved. Misshapen, unsymmetrical, completely not cute bangs.

Her fashion sense wasn't any better for the years. She was still in dark jeans , but I had to say I appreciated the humour of her shirt, despite its offensive colour. As, I have made clear yellow is not my favourite colour.

Her face had gone pale, like she too was seeing a ghost. Or some sort of horrible train wreck. I shifted self -consciously, I hastily tried to remember what I'd thrown on that morning in the panic to reach my brother's side. I remember Kyleigh throwing a soft but tight, white elbow length sleeved, thin sweater at me and I blushed as I realised what that cold and buttery material had been.

I was wearing my deep plum leather mini-skirt that skimmed my legs at just mid-thigh, not indecent, but alluring and definitely a confidant item. It was a gag gift.

I silently cursed Kyleigh in my head. No wonder I was so god damned cold. Seriously, it's only July, but lately it been practically snowing. Okay, so a little frost in the wee hours of the morning wasn't snow, but still. That girl has issues, I mean I didn't realise until now what I had on, but I was entitled. My brother just tried to off himself. Again.

A soft questioning groan, made me glance down. Oops. I had forgotten about Hot Dr. Constable Heeley. And by the irritated look he was sending me, he knew that. Wait. I scowled at him as he followed the trail up my legs, passed the shear black tights, that ended in some weird garter thing ,that peeked out from under my skirt, to the hem of my skirt and.... I quickly took a few steps away from him, sending him an accusatory glare. He, all bloody and battered, had the gall to smirk at me. Nerve of some people.

A hand suddenly clamped down on my arm, causing me to jump slightly. I looked down in befuddlement at the tan fingers clenched around my arm. They had a class ring on their middle finger, with a snake insignia with glittering emerald eyes. My brother had a ring like that...

Frowning I followed the hand up to a pair of annoyed and slightly nervous blue eyes. Liam. He was supposed to be in surgery. What the hell was he doing here. Was he okay? What was going on? I looked up at him with concern in my eyes. He just glared at me.

'What the hell do you think you're doing here Chryssa?!' Yanking me towards him and away from Dr. Heeley.

Only he didn't say 'hell'.

I dropped my concern and glared right back. I pulled my hand free forcefully, and turned to face him, hands on my hips. Opened my mouth, ready to talk to him in calm and adult tones.

'What am I doing here? Seriously? What the hell are you doing here? (only I didn't say hell). You're meant to be in surgery you insufferable buffoon! Also, what the hell were you thinking trying to off yourself? That wasn't very smart. Like on a scale of stupid to just plain dumb, you are literally a blonde bimbo. My brother is a bimbo. A freaking Bimbo. Do you even realise how weird and embarrassing that is? No. Because you just tried to kill yourself so you obviously are missing a few screws in the ol' light bulb. The wheel may be turning, but the idiot guinea pig is most def dead. And why is your hot doctor on the floor, bleeding to death?'