The Month of April (The Series of Months; Book #1)

Chapter VIII

AN: You'll have to excuse this chapter, there are a few incomplete ideas and I haven't quiet finished it. But it was important to me to finally move on. Sorry about any inconveniences or misunderstandings!!~

No. 

Just no. Absolutely not. 

I do not care for Emmeline Thatcher.

Was I worried that I caused it? 

That I put her in this situation? 

That this whole thing with June was my fault? No. 

June was never right in the mind, but she was bringing it to a whole new level with each breathing moment. I had thought her dead, or at least driven to the outskirts of her sanity in some asylum-- whatever helped me sleep at night, it seemed.

The ogre was much larger than me, and he kept his grip in my hair even after I removed my coat and allowed a smaller boy chain link my right wrist to the arm of a high backed chair. They had me seated, and I tried to seem less threatened by him than I was-- but every time I went to study the cracks in my nails, he'd yank my head back upwards. 

"You've got to be kidding me," I huffed, earning another yank, "Will you stop that? I can't go anywhere- hey!" Was I going to be sore tonight... If not dead.

I wasn't nearly as familiar with the customs of the Scrounges, though knowing June, there wasn't a whole lot of customs to begin with. It was chaos rules, her rules. I tried studying the perimeter of the room with my eyes, but every time they glowed the ogre gave a grunt in warning. I would them roll my eyes, and he'd pull on my hair. 

I'm glad his actions are consistent, if not reliable. 

"Her Highness is ready for the purple," said a man from behind me, a voice I didn't recognized but it squeaked in the silence of the room. My chair tilted back slightly, the ogre then wheeled me backwards through the same set of doors we entered in. I shook my wrist, testing the tightness of the cuff, lucky the rattling sound went unnoticed by the ogre. 

Fire light burned, the dark of night had conquered the sky, and the stench of iron blood stained the air. June had built her fortress in the ruins of an abandoned, crumbling baseball field, and if I wasn't standing right in the middle of it, I may have taken a moment to admire the craftsmanship of fabric awnings and make-shift iron beam bridges between different sections of the stadium. Most the grass beneath her feet had died, deteriorated, or even burnt around the edges from a recent battle, layers of sand were dumped in the open patched creating a course battlefeild. 

Barbaric. I sucked in a breath, held it for a moment, and scanned the perimeter for anything. Crowds have filled in the seats, chanting something barely coherent after a night of booze and anarchy. Their mouthes foamed with bloodlust, their eyes wide with excitement; above them all, in a higher box rimmed with three human skulls each painted a different color, was June adorn with her bone crown and chaotic grin. She held a fourth skull in her hand, a paint brush in the other. 

Three skulls: Bubblegum Pink, Sunny Yellow, and Snow White.

Three people: October, July, December. In that order. No doubt she kept purple paint for this moment.

I wasn't a fool too keep my eyes there too long, wasn't dumb enough to challenge June's gaze, or naive enough to mimic pity or plead with her. And yet, I couldn't look away. Emmeline was seated at June's left, a collar around her neck and her nails turned harshly into her knees. She was terrified, more so than I had ever seen her. 

Fuck, I was lying.

Was I worried that I caused this? That this whole thing with June was my fault? Absolutely. The ogre had pushed the chair forwards, causing my body to jerk slightly out of the seat and forcing me to look away from Emmeline.