6 - Torment
"Oh my God!" I yell at Charlie as she opens the door, my face a mask of surprise. We stare at eachother for a few seconds, Charlie with a slight flinch, her eyes wide, and me with a huge grin on my face. "You look great," I finally confirm.
The purple streak is now gone from Charlie's hair. Well, technically it isn't gone. I guess it's been in engulfed in a whole wash of purpleness. Every single strand of Charlie's hair is all dyed an electric purple colour.
It takes a bit of getting used to, but it's completely fabulous. Charlie knows I love every single hair colour or style she'll ever have, and she's often suggested going extravagant with my own hair, but I doubt it would ever suit me, and my parents would probably disown me.
I think about all of this while Charlie stares at me with the same wide-eyed expression. Why is it that I can't help but think she isn't happy to see me?
Then she assumes a casual stance.
"You think so?" She slowly runs her hand down her long, straight hair.
"Of course I do. It's not exactly a surprise, me loving your hair. Now let me in, it's freezing."
After rolling her eyes with a tight smile, my best friend disappears into her roomy hall and I step up into her porch, shivering slightly before closing the door behind me.
The burning smell is what hits me first. It's not that disgusting burning smell, but it's a sweet one.
Burning sugar.
I sniff slowly. "What the ..."
"Caramel," Charlie explains over her shoulder, retreating into the door at the end of the hall, which leads to the kitchen. I frown and hang up my coat and then wander after her. In the kitchen the smell is overwhelming, engulfing. I blink a few times before walking past her to open the window over the sink.
"What?" I ask, incredulously.
"Caramel. It's quite fun, actually, and tastes nice," Charlie informs me matter-of-factly, as she goes over to a pan which is sitting on the hob, stirring it gently with a wooden spoon.
"Melted sugar?" I question doubtfully.
Charlie laughs and then twirls her gold earring. "Ahuh."
"That's disgusting," I decide, then go and sit down at the table, as far away as possible from the source of the rather sickly smell of melting sugar. At once I notice grubby pans piled up in the sink - three within my sight, at least, as well as jam jars all over the counter which are filled with various dried herbs. On the table in front of me is a half-full glass of orange juice, an OK! magazine turned to page seven, and - shockingly - a goldfish in a rather large bowl full of clear water, happily swimming around.
"Charlie- where's your mum?" I ask. I realise for the first time that Charlie would never be making caramel if her mother was in the house. But it's really early on a Saturday morning, so why would she be out? Around here, it's only Charlie and I who are morning people.
I look at the pots and pans and dishes in the sink, and then the bread crumbs all over the counter. My mind switches back to the goldfish, and the jars of herbs. It's so Charlie. But Charlie ... Charlie uncontrolled. Without any boundaries.
Nothing is stopping her, or tried to, at least.
"What?" She looks over her shoulder at me. "Oh, she's gone on a trip for a few days."
A trip for a few days? Well that explains the unkept kitchen. But Charlie's mum would never do that. She'd never trust Charlie to be alone in the house. Evidently, I wouldn't.
YOU ARE READING
In Living Memory
Teen Fiction"...My sister died at the beach last summer. Well, she almost died. We won't know how, until she wakes up. If she ever does. She’s in a coma, lying in a hospital bed three miles away from home. She’s not dead. But she’s not alive either." It's all A...
