Flicker (H.S)

08.

08.

"Latest news on Styles Killings: A man around the age of 22 was found buried in the back garden of Styles' childhood home, almost unrecognizable. The unidentified body was taken in for an autopsy this morning. Results should be in by tomorrow. This leads to the conclusion that Harry Styles has returned to Oakwood, as the corpse is relatively new. The city of Oakwood remains under lockdown whilst authorities attempt to obtain this lethal killer."

-Oakwood Local News, Published August 3rd

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e v e r l y

She is muttered Italian curse words and oversized university jumpers when she slides into a kitchen chair that Saturday morning, probing the soft flesh of her cheek that has began to bleed upon gnawing at it in the night.

Blood is an odd taste. It's metallic and consuming, like a blanket that has tangled in your legs and suffocates you in warmth. But for some reason the taste is comfortingly familiar on her tastebuds so she continues to dab her tongue on the broken flesh of her cheek.

She tugs the sleeves of her Harvard jumper over her cold fingers. She has this thing- Everly does. This thing that consists of scouring the internet for old, ratty, American university jumpers that someone has put on eBay for a few pounds and living in them every chance she got.

And she is muttered Italian curse words and oversized university jumpers when she slides into a kitchen chair that Saturday morning.

"Everly? You alright?" Ethan's not-yet-deep French accented voice comes from the hall to her right. Soft, padded footsteps echo through the empty house as he emerges from the dimly lit hall and into the kitchen.

Unlike his sister, Ethan is all muttered French curse words and buzz light year boxers as he plops unceremoniously into the chair, leaning his pasty elbows onto the surface and huffing. As the air expels from his mouth, a blonde strand of curly hair blows up only to rest back down into its previous position. "How long have you been in here?" He questions, voice clouded thickly with his accent as sleepiness claims his words.

Everly shrugs and turns to face the boy who is nearly eleven years old and really should get rid of his buzz lightyear boxers. "Just a few minutes" she answers.

Ethan nods and Everly tries to ignore the way his eyes have become much darker in the few months he's resided with the Greens.

But that's normal.

Darker eyes are a symptom of being a foster kid.

"That boy you've been talking to... What's his name?" The boy who is almost eleven and who should really get rid of his buzz light year boxers snaps his fingers and stuck his tongue out as he scoured his brain for the words. "The one who got into that fight last week and ended up snogging that girl?"

Everly's ears perked up at the subject change. "How do you know about that?"

Ethan laughed a bit and played with his fingers. "Word gets around quick. Plus, the girl who he was snogging? Her sister is in my maths class."

The girl who was made of all Italian curse words and oversized university jumpers furrowed her eyebrows. "Okay, but how did you know I've been talking to him?" She questioned, suddenly much more awake than before.

"Tilly Crouse. She's Courtney's sister- you know, the girl who was kissing him?" Every rolls her eyes because, yes, Ethan, she realises that Courtney- who isn't blonde and doesn't care enough to pick out the yellow coloured gummy bears- was kissing him. "She always talks about how you are making her sister... How do u say it?"