Chapter One
LILLY
Well, this sucks hairy goat balls.
I continue walking up the long arse gravel drive, my muscles quivering and feet stomping. Luckily, I'm wearing flats, even if my feet are soaked through because it's pissing down. My nostrils flare as I recall that my bags are also fucking drenched from being thrown in a puddle, all because the Uber guy thought he’d try to take liberties. I dick punched him for his troubles, the only light in an otherwise shitty situation, which he didn't take kindly to, so he tossed my luggage out and dumped me by the side of the road.
I might be new to this country, but fuck him and his misogynistic belief that just because I've got tits and a vag, I must be interested!
There is literally a river running down the drive, soaking my feet even more, and for a moment, the clear water is replaced with streams of scarlet, and I flinch as painful memories flood my mind from six months earlier…
Red.
A whole room painted in shades of red.
Ribbons of dark crimson flow across the white lino floor, unstoppable in their path. I watch, fascinated, as the glistening ruby touches the toes of my yellow TOMS when I take a step, like a blotted ink spill.
Damn, these shoes were favourites of mine.The thought darts across my mind like a bird, flying away before I can grasp it.
My eyes follow the river to its source, lying there so still, in a pure white peaceful serenity. I walk towards her, swallowing with difficulty as a sour taste fills my mouth. I leave sticky cardinal footprints behind me, like some kind of macabre breadcrumb trail.
Time stops as a sharp pain hits my knees when I fall to the floor, breaking the crusty skin of the pool of blood, like custard left out too long. I’d expect it to feel hot against my leggings, but it’s cool, as if it was never warm at all.
My mind refuses to believe what it’s seeing, my eyes frenzied and watering as I try to take in the scene before me. Here is the woman who was there for me my whole life. Who gave birth to me, loved me, even when we fought like cats and dogs.
A strange sense of numbness settles over me like a cape, shielding me from the maelstrom of my anguish. The searing pain and hurt that I can sense lies just below the surface.
Nausea rolls round in my stomach as I break out in a sweat, and my muscles start to cramp, but I can barely feel the pain. Reaching out with trembling fingers, I brush her once shiny dyed red hair away from her pale face. My eyes search her body, trying to find the source of the blood leaking out of her, to see if it can be plugged. My hands frantically press into the cold liquid, lips trembling when they come away stained with the claret of life.
As I study them, my chest feels tight when a line that Lady Macbeth says flits into my mind, fluttering round like a butterfly demanding to be noticed.
‘What will these hands ne’er be clean?’
I always thought red was such a warm colour before. But now it’s as cold as ice, burning my skin where it touches it.
My eyes squeeze shut and I want to run, to flee, to escape from what’s in this room. I beg any god that exists in this world to release me from this torment.
I can hear frantic voices far away, someone sobs and vomits behind me, but the wind rushing past my ears makes it impossible to hear anything clearly at all.
I breathe deeply through my nose, shaking my head to try and clear it, but the tangy scent of old copper pennies overwhelms me, and suddenly the wind is howling round me so viciously, my eyes fly open and I'm surprised the room isn't being torn apart in its violence.
Black starts to creep in round the edges, the blissful dark of ignorance welcoming me in its comforting embrace. I fall into it gladly, accepting the oblivion with open arms until I am nothing. No one.
And the red ribbons no longer exist.
I stop my walk, hanging my head, and take a moment, trying to catch my breath and blinking away the vision.
A fresh start, remember?
A new beginning and a chance to become a new person, not just the girl that found her dead–I shut the thought off, feeling heavy inside, and continue my way up the drive in this godforsaken rain.
Finally I arrive outside the stone facade of Highgate Preparatory Academy, apparently the best high school in the west.Snort.It's nestled on the edge of the Rockies, surrounded by forests and amazing views, according to their website. None of which I can currently appreciate given that it’s dark, I'm soaked to the bone from the pouring rain, and fucking exhausted from a long arse journey.
We’re certainly not in Kansas anymore; well, London if we’re being really pedantic, I think, rolling my eyes at myself as I walk up the smooth stone steps and knock on the huge wooden panelled front doors, the sound echoing in the darkness.
“You can do this, Lilly,” I whisper under my breath, a rolling feeling in my stomach as I try to gather courage when I hear ominous footsteps on the other side, growing louder as they approach me.
Why does it feel like I’m waiting outside the gates of Hell?