[COMPLETED]
[THE NUTCRACKER meets CHAMBER OF SECRETS meets HAMLET]
PREVIOUSLY ADDED TO THE OFFICIAL @mystery profile's READING LIST
GENRE: Paranormal
"Time wasn't faithful, it never is."
Lindsey Knightley has had a strained relationship with her...
Rated 'TB&TS' for 'Tissue Boxes and Triggering Shiz'
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“I made a promise-- seven years ago, Linds. A promise that I’d do anything to protect my family…”
My black coloured boots paddle on the cemented sidewalk-- hands still shoved into pockets as whirlwinds splatter on the street’s canvas.
Dylan’s right beside me, humming to himself.
The street is relatively less crowded than usual. Only a few pedestrians tramp through it with a few cars and a double-decker bus swishing by. Some shops are opened, too-- their items reflecting by my sight through their shop windows as we pass by.
Dylan’s beside me, humming away to himself. His steps have a lightness in them that I haven’t seen in a while.
It’s about eleven in the morning now, and half an hour since my call with Allison and Ethan. And an hour since my talk with my brother. I’ve never expected for us to become best friends after something that seemed impossible to me.
For the moment, even the weight in my chest is content with it.
A push of wind holds my chin-- forcing me to look at the other side of the street. Few metres ahead, a redhead and blonde a bit shorter than Dylan and me, respectively, near the door of Ruby Violet-- their backs towards us.
I can recognise those two from a mile away, now...
My chest puffs to make a sound, but decides against it. Though, a tainted smile remains on it.
Maybe, I should speed up to them myself.
Just as I turn to Dylan, his phone buzzes. His hum meets its end, while something seems to burn in me-- like the end of a dying matchstick.
Another flurry like slap of the wind creeps down my spine-- not of fear, but of coldness.
I hope.
Dylan right hand reaches into his coat pocket and his eyes scan over the illuminated screen. He shakes his head. A finger of his left hand merely touching his cheek. “I have to take this. From the office.”
A wave of relief washes over-- hands still deepening into my pockets.
With the same finger, he points at the cousins-- making me whirl my head. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up.”
The pointed finger then goes back its position, as he puts a hand on my shoulder-- nudging me ahead.
I nod, as he puts the phone to his ear and faces towards one of the shops on our side. A flower shop. His reflection solemnly listening, while mine is still a ghastly pale.
