The Last City

Chapter 1

Republican Plaza, Cite De Sierra, 11:28 P.M.

“Belladonna, don’t get too far alright,” said Mrs. Summers taking a seat at the middle row facing the stage. “We need to get back early – I still got some orders to fill up for tomorrow.”

“Yes mom,” said Belle as she planted a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “I’ll be back once we’re done discussing our school project.”

Belle carefully made her way through the rows of chairs into the now jam packed plaza. On a usual Saturday night, she would be at home helping her mom out to package advanced orders of pastries which would be delivered for the next day, tonight was different. She had always loved her mom’s pastries since she was a kid, and it never ceased even so now that she was already nineteen.

Her mind drifted back to the day she turned seven. She had watched her dad leave through the front door after a heated argument with her mom. She did not know anything then, as she slowly peered through the kitchen and watched her mom crying in silent tears. The rest of the day came by in silence; not a word was said about the incident. She did not bother asking although it was really not the first time her mom and dad would argue. But that day was different; she never saw her dad again.

It was then when her mom decided to single-handedly raise her. Mrs. Summers used her gift for pastry making to come up with a little business that had made it possible for them to at least have something to eat on the table. Her mom’s specialty – the Bloody Bizcocho was the best seller. Ever since, Belle had learned to live a simple life.

Tonight, instead of packaging pastries, she, her mom and the entirety of Sierra was called to gather at the plaza. The mayor had somehow an important announcement – a breakthrough as what Belle overheard from a group of excited adults just behind her.

Belle surveyed through the highly anticipating crowd for a hint of a tan skinned girl with dark red hair. She tried looking over the far west only to spot her mother engaged in a conversation with Mrs. Dokkins. She had never been fond of the Dokkins who live just next door. They had always been tagged as the neighborhood-encyclopedia owing to the vast volumes of gossips their family had gotten involved to that it was never really a surprise for Belle to see different people visit the Dokkins house every day. It was as if they make a living by keeping or spreading gossips around.

Belle scanned her right next, moving her eyes over the now standing crowd which were gathered just at the rear ledge and finally spotted Flannery. Her skin glowing angry tan under the plaza lights near the stage. She was standing with her family. Her dad Mr. Flere, was pure African, a huge man who stood over six feet while her mom, Mrs. Flere, was pure American who was fairly tall as well. Beside Flannery stood her six year old brother Albert who was pulling his mom’s hand, clearly wanting to see what the rest of the people were looking in front.

The moment their eyes met, Flannery gave out a huge smile, whispered to her mom and squeezed through the crowd towards Belle. Flannery got a perfect caramel toned skin. Her nose was fairly pointed for an African that matched her slim frame. Her hair was dyed dark burgundy, fixed in a pixie bob ending just above her collar bones.

“I was starting to think you couldn’t find me,” bellowed Flannery as she emerged from in between two guys beside Belle.

“Watch it!” yelled the other guy in green shirt, as he raised his leg in pain.

“Woops, sorry,” apologized Flannery. “Didn’t mean to step on it.”

“Let’s get rid of this first,” said Belle as she turned around and headed for the plaza archway, her straight brunette hair waving effortlessly behind her.