• THE ONE • A Thomas Shelby Fanfic •

C8 - Pink Matter

I'm drunk before the sun is up, sucking on my smokes as I lay on my bed. I got home in a snap, murmuring things to myself, I was so full rage, it drove me home. The storm crept up as my mood darkened, mum had told me once that I could shift mother nature's mind if I willed it. She also told me I could do anything I could, if my mind was set right.

I gulp down on whiskey from the bottle, it's warm and leaves marks down my throat of obscurities. But it does the trick, numbing my body from head to toe. What an asshole. That boy Tommy Shelby. Fuckin-

"She don't mean anything to me," I murmur, saying exactly what I think he said, the way a drunk person does. "Oh, Bria, I love you." I roll my eyes, scoffing as I sit up on my bed and take a long swing of the alcohol and then a longer pull of my smoke.

I want to do bad things to Grace. That woman, the way she touched him. Her moan, his moan. A cocktail of frogs blood, the shyest of spearmint leaves, enough dirt to get the Earth to agree with my potion. That'll have her dead in a second, death by accident, or shall I say, death by Bria?

No no, what am I thinking? This isn't her fault. She's only his wife, doing her wifely duties. Satisfying her husband who satisfied me a day ago. I grown vengeful, this is personal. I take one last gulp of whiskey before lunging the bottle across the room.

"Fuck you, Tommy Shelby!" I shout and as if to answer me, the lamp to my left went out. Thunder clamped, the windows shattering open as rain poured into my room.

The left side of the room went dark, the lamp fuse must've gone out because of me. I'm still huffing and puffing when I look into the darkness to see mums shadow, staring back at me. Her silhouette nothing less of what I remember it to be. Her hair, frizzy, untamed, beautiful. Her honey brown eyes, wide, her skin tanned and glowing. Her features so prominent, I shiver.

"You're abusing your power, daughter. Embarrassing me, your ancestors and most importantly," She steps out of the darkness. "Yourself."

She wears a silk dress that walks with her, her body glows. I miss her.

"Mum-"

"Why are you doing this?" She asks, waving her hands around the room. "What is your reasoning."

I lower my head, ashamed of what I have caused myself. Chaotic and drunk?

"Raise your head, daughter."

Compelled, I do as I am told. A tear rolls down my cheek meeting her gaze, "Mum." This time I am softer, more apologetic.

"Your heart is with a man who hurt you," Her voice is velvet. "And he will hurt you again and again."

"I love him." I admit, just like I had when I went to her screaming that I had a dream Tommy Shelby was going to murder me someday.

She smiles softly. "He's a monster."

"I don't see that anymore."

"That's because you only see monsters as these big ferocious creatures, Bria." She doesn't leave my gaze, doesn't allow herself the emotions to look around my childhood room. "Warn him about his wife's soon departure from this world. Leave Birmingham."

"I-"

"I warn you, daughter, of a swollen heart but what is a swollen heart without a beating one?" I watch as my mum slowly walks away, "You will join me in the afterlife, but not now. Not unless you disobey me."

I get up to stand, but once she raises her pointer finger and mentions the floor, I am thrown to the ground and forced to stay there.

"Mum!" I scream, but she disappears and the room pieces itself together and lights shine back at me. The glass of whiskey is on my bedside table, the lamp, neatly put to the left side. The windows repaired, the cigarette I was smoking was out. It was no longer raining, and I was no longer drunk.

Huffing, I look around the room once more as I get up to stand. She's never been here before, back to life, back to living. Back to. Life.