The Curse of Thelonious [✓]

thirty

The entire town seemed to be solemn that day, the news spreading as relentlessly as the smoke had. Atlas was jittery from the moment he got out of bed, his body curling up in an instinctive fear. It rattled him to his bones, the way he could feel an evil spreading through his veins, just like the way the flames had engulfed the house.

He ignored his trembling fingers as he got dressed in a daze, not at all keen to go into school. Although he didn't want to face everyone's snarky remarks and glares, he knew it would be a lot worse if he didn't turn up. They would be even more sure it had been his fault. "It's not your fault," he whispered out loud to his reflection in Lera's mirror but it was no use, he was lying.

He didn't know how but he had somehow caused the death of Owen and his entire family.

"Hey, are you ready, Atlas?" Lera called from downstairs, her voice a little shaky – the only indication of her nerves. Atlas knew she would be upset when she heard about the Thornton's, he just didn't know how much.

But unbeknownst to him, Lera's mind was spinning with all the events occurred in the small town. She had never been one to be organised; that had been Anya's forte. But now Anya was gone and she had her sister's boots to fill.

Some days her twin's death seemed like a strange dream, as though Anya would walk through the door any minute. Other days she would ache, her heart hurting for all her sister would never have the luxury of experiencing.

Lera pushed the pain out of her mind as much as she could as she tugged at her hair, fanning it over her shoulders. Her mother had box-braided it all and she wasn't used to the sensation yet. Flinging her leather rucksack over her left shoulder, she waiting at the bottom of the stairs as Atlas fumbled down to meet her.

His mouth was etched in a grimace, his expression guarded. He looked like the way he had been before they had become friends.

The two were silent on their way to school, parting ways before they reached the main road as usual. Lera smiled as she said hello to a few people, shocking herself with how good she had gotten at pretending everything was okay. The corridors were quiet, the town digesting the events of the previous night.

Atlas's shoulders were tense as he walked to his form class, trying to block the gossip out of his mind but it was no use - it fired towards him, like bullets speeding through the air. Although he knew it was much better for Lera to stay well away from him at school for her own reputation, something he had always stressed, he found himself wishing she was beside him. The softness and warmth of her presence would be enough to push away the negativity of the small town.

Lera was fidgeting throughout her lessons, her heart trembling as she heard every last detail of the Thornton's deaths whispered throughout the student body. Her mind was whirring, trying to find a connection between the events occurred since the Petre family had arrived back in Clearford, but it was easier said than done.

The first few lessons dragged on painfully slow, silence echoing across the old building. There were rumours spreading around but she paid them no heed - she knew everyone was just beginning to get scared. Clearford was usually so dull that the sequence of deaths had rattled everyone, the town unable to digest the tragedies that had befallen them.

With a quick peek around, Lera walked through the canteen at lunch time, clutching tightly into her tray.

"Whatcha looking for?" Jubaida's voice rang as she joined her. "Or rather, who are you looking for?" They walked together, footsteps in sync, towards the back of the room where their friends sat.

"Huh?" Lera shook her head, her braids nestling against her shoulders as she realised what her friend was saying. "Oh, nobody, nothing."

Jubaida didn't look convinced but she kept quiet, settling herself down on the bench opposite Tia.