the siren † john seed

27

Liquorice Converse was alone once again.

The skies were rumbling with thunder, rain soaked every corner of the land it fell upon. The grey skies were crashing with strokes of blinding white light.

Liquorice had wanted to play in the rain, but decided against it as the ground began to grow muddier and muddier. She would track mud everywhere in the house if she were to go outside.

Out of boredom, Liquorice began cleaning up the already neat master bedroom. She refolded sheets and tucked them back into a drawer they already were in.

She found a small flip lighter on the bedside table, upon closer inspection she realized it had belonged to the girl herself. On the side were the initials, L.C, embedded into the metal.

"There ya' are!" Liquorice exclaims, bringing it to her exposed chest. She had long stopped smoking the cancer-in-a-stick, but that didn't mean she did not want the beautiful lighter with intricate details of white on it. She had received it a while ago when she was still in New York.

She flipped over the lighter, revealing the faded initials, C.W.

"Carmen Willow." She whispers to herself. Right as this left her lips, a loud clap of thunder
rumbled from outside, a low guttural sound almost.

The thunder drags into a series of rolls, the sound fading into the distance.

This made her jump a little.

She glanced to the window, the hard rain painting the scenery grey. The clouds were as dark as the darkest nights, the blinding flashes acted as if it were the stars surrounding the black skies.

It reminded her of the soft nights she would spend with John, doing nothing but gazing at the beautiful white orbs in the black sky.

Liquorice Converse wasn't interested in the stars, but John Seed made it look interesting as he would stare at it in awe. Liquorice usually payed attention to the man, not the sky.

Liquorice pulled open the nightstand that was situated beside the large bed. A strong scent of expensive cologne hit her face, and she almost passed out. It smelled of John, and she wanted to spray it all over to make up from his lack of presence.

She pulled out a fancy bottle, and brought it to her nose. The scent was beautiful. It reminded her of the one and only.

Putting the bottle back into the drawer, she spotted a leather-bound journal. Liquorice recognized this journal as the one John would write in. She glanced to the door as she slowly pulled it out of its place.

She felt bad for being curious about what it had contained. Her stomach churned nervously as she kept rising her head to look at the door for any sign of life.

She flipped it open, keeping her eyes on the door. Her mind dragged to the worst scenarios that would possibly take place if she was caught reading this.

Her knee bounced up and down as she listened for the door.

"2/1/15"

Liquorice touched the page, tracing the date with her eyes. The writing was in cursive, almost unreadable.

"I want to die."

Liquorice raised an eyebrow at this sentence.

"No. I really want to die. What is the purpose of life anymore?"