RED

000. Renton city born and raised

Even though the cemetery of Renton was just a five minute ride outside the city, it gave off a strong haunting feeling of isolation. An acre of land, flat, with no trees or even grass to cover the moist soil, it came in grave contrast to the vast pine forest surrounding Renton. It seemed as if the soil here was as dead as the people buried beneath it. Except that one tree in the northern corner. An almond tree that bloomed flowers red as blood. Nobody dared cut it, so there it stood thirteen years now, a protective shield above the reddish cross. Or maybe a wooden cage for the demons buried beneath.

A sudden gust of wind made the small woman pull the collar of her brown cardigan closer to her face; but she wasn't cold. Her lean figure all but blended into her gloomy surroundings. A bright red hat covered her head and the crimson leather of her boots and gloves made her look like a red rose in the middle of a swamp. Leather-clad fingers moved along the branches of the almond tree, following its lines down to the dusty cross. Her eyes narrowed as she squat and glared at the inscription on the stone.

"You were right," she said. Her voice send chills down the other's spine, causing him to step back. His feet sunk on the mud by the sudden motion. It was an unconscious move, brought on by the pure awe and fear her presence always awakened in him. A smirk covered her face, her green eyes sparkling as she turned to him. "The people in this city think I'm dead indeed."

The man nodded slowly, his presence still almost imperceptible. A humourless chuckle left her red lips, freezing the already bleak scenery.

"Even he?" she asked, as she walked slowly amongst the grey tombstones and marble crosses. Under the grey sky, some frost had formed in the ground. It creaked under the weight of the woman's heels. Yet no footprints marked her path, as if she was weightless, floating.

"Yes," he whispered.

Another strong gust had the woman ran a glove-dressed hand down her face; a habit remaining from the old days when her hair ran red and curly down her back, caressing her spine, floating as the wind blew. Now her head was shaved almost to the root, hidden under her velvet hat.

"Even my sister?"

"Yes."

A small frown played at the line of her mouth. "That's good," she said, opening a black umbrella. Seconds later a thick droplet landed on the man's cheek.

♤ ♤ ♤

This is a rewrite from my original book The Cutie is a Boxer, published in Wattpad around 2013. I had taken down the story then, but lately I've been working on this idea again. This will probably be a long book, so bare with me.
Let me know how you feel about it on the comments!
Kisses xx