Seventh Society [EDITING]

Four: Inherited Burden

Contains foul language. Read at your own risk.
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    AND FOR THE THIRD TIME, Clementine sneezed all over the borrowed sheets covering most of her hot — temperature — body, followed by a vigorous cough. She sniffed, then groaned in frustration, burying her forehead into the palm of her hands. “Stupid fever,” she grumbled, kicking the snot-infested sheets over her body. “Why does the world hate me?”

     Theo chuckled. “Hey, you’re ‘gonna be perfectly fine sooner or later, I promise,” he assured her, leaning closer to Clementine, who lied down on a bed, despite the risk of Theo catching the flu.

     Clementine, instead of embracing the reassurance, frowned at him. “Ugh. Stop saying that. You’re not the one with a dry nostril and one reaaaally wet one. I tell you, I feel like crap,” she whined, followed by a grunt. She sneezed quickly afterwards before groaning and covering her head with her bed sheets.  “What time is it,” asked Clementine, her voice slightly muffled by the covers. “Quarter to eleven in the evening,” replied Theo, taking a short glance at his watch, before Clementine groaned, irritated.

     “Honestly, it’s not your fault for having a sudden fever. What happened hours ago still gives me the creeps until now,” Theo spoke, shifting uneasily on the stool he’s currently sitting on. Lennon, his body leaning against the dark wall opposite from the bed Clementine’s resting on, nodded in agreement, his dark curls bouncing up and down as he did so. “Tell me about it,” he said, “Sister Ma— I mean, Darwin — was so creepy. I mean she’d pass as the sister of Argen.”

     “I can’t believe we fell for her good sister act,” Theo added, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “Her acting was pretty convincing, though.” Theo draped Clementine’s sheets over his shoulder, covering his blonde hair. “Children, please quiet down before I shove this bullet up your bum,” he said mockingly in his worst imitation of Darwin’s voice before Clementine rolled her eyes and pulled her sheets closer to her, covering her body.

     “Well, now that you mentioned it,” started Lennon, rubbing his chin with his right hand, “the name Maria for a sister seems to be suspicious, if you ask me. I mean, that name is so fake.”

     “No, it isn’t.” 

     “Trust me, Theo. That name is so fake.”

      “What? Why?”

       “Just trust me, dude. This is based from experience.”

       “How many Maria's do you know anyway?”

        “Theo, the question is, how many Maria's have you not met?”

        “That doesn't make sense.”

     “Boys,” Clementine whispered to herself, rolling her eyes.

     The door creaked open, causing Lennon and Theo to avert their focus on the door. From the doorway emerged a stout lady, probably in her mid-thirties, with dark hair tied up in a bun, a white linen cloth used to tie her hair. She wore a white apron over a ruffled apricot dress, the hem of the dress touching her knees. Her cheeks were plump and some strands of her hair covered her forehead, but she looked decent nevertheless. Elspeth, she had introduced herself to the three visitors hours ago, when Argen and Haggis brought them to the place.

     With big steps, Elspeth made her way to Clementine’s bed, a wooden tray with a ceramic bowl of chicken soup and a glass of fresh water on top in hand. She gently placed the tray on the bedside table before reaching out for Clementine’s forehead. “Still hot,” she mumbled to herself, almost inaudible to the boys. Elspeth whipped her head and faced Lennon and Theo, who both now had serious faces on. “Boys, could you please leave the room for a moment?”