Chapter Text
It was a beautiful house, really. Peachy wooden walls and a white vintage roof that shined brightly in summer. It was old, really old, but thanks to the renovations you couldn’t even tell. It was cozy, but the sounds that left the attic scared the residents whenever they used the second floor. It was probably a fisher or a weasel, at least that’s what the pest control said. She thought about it every time she waited at the bus stop right in front of her home. Rodents like that need a place to stay during the winter too. She relaxed her shoulders and sank more into her seat on the bench. The garden was gorgeous, bushes with white and red roses littering almost every corner of the foundation. Checking the watch for a fifth time, she sighed. 12:55. The bus should have been here seven minutes ago. There’s a bird nest on the roof, magpies, to be precise. She always liked the birds. Her father, not so much.
She knows the house like the back of her hand.
She looked at her wrist. 12:56. She was planning on visiting the library and the coffee shop, as well as going to the church and the cemetery. The eight minute time loss made her nervous. So many errands, so many tasks, yet the bus had other plans for her. She switched the leg she was crossing. She needs to return a book as well as get a new one, get lunch and coffee for her and her dad, then drop it off at his work. The pastor asked her if she could help around the church today, so that’s another thing that will take some time. Finally, visiting mom. She checked her bag again. Wallet, book, camera, bus ticket, matches, a single cat treat and house keys. She relaxed again. When she closed her eyes and exhaled out of her nose, her mind went blank. No house, no gardens, no tasks. Just the sound of trees gently rocking with the warm wind. Spring was her favourite time of the year. Not too warm, not too cold, she could take long walks in the forest without a care in the world. It
was quiet. She liked the quiet. It kept her calm.
- Excuse me young lady - an elderly woman made her snap back to reality - do you know when the bus will arrive?
She smiled gently, even though she knew the woman couldn’t see her face very well.
- Hello Mrs Pushkin, it should arrive soon, hopefully - she stood up, letting the older woman grab her arm for support.
- Ah, Ayesha! Sorry darling, I didn’t realise it was you, you know my sight hasn’t been the best lately - they sat down. Mrs’ Pushkin's hands were old and wrinkled, the polar opposite of Aisha’s. She thought about it whenever the lady held her. - how are you? Are you still ill?
Her face returned to her usual, neutral expression.
- No, Mrs Pushkin, I’m fine, thank you for asking.
- Going outside will do you good, my child. Some fresh air and sun can make a big difference
- Going outside. She didn’t like going outside. As much as she liked the forest and the old town, that much she disliked being away from her room. Like a mother bird being away from the nest. It made her nervous.
- Are you attending the mass today?
- Later today, yes.
- You’re a good child, Ayesha. The Lord has big plans for you.
She was going to say more, but the bus had arrived at last. Aisha loosened up and helped the woman inside. There, Mrs Pushkin found somebody else to talk to. She could finally sit down, close her eyes and enjoy the ride. She always did that. She also always sat on the same seat. Always. Today tho, it was occupied by a man she has never seen before. He was tall, but lanky, had long hair tied in a low ponytail and glasses. He didn’t really fit in with the rest of the townsfolk. She sat beside him anyway and continued her routine, shutting her eyes. The man tensed up when he felt their shoulders touch, but he didn’t stop looking out the window. . .
- Who is that? - Mrs Pushkin asked the woman sitting next to her in a half whisper. - I’ve never seen him before.
- Maya told me he’s the new librarian - Mrs Steele whispered back
- Looking like that? He looks more like a criminal.
- I heard he’s the unwed child of Cynthia Brown - another woman leaned in to gossip.
The man shivered a bit. It was another day in Leyros. It was a christian town, but like many others, it didn’t follow its own rules. She opened her eyes and subtly glanced at him again. He looked tired, with eyebags under his eyes and red circling his whites. He had two holes in his lower lip - presumably from piercings. She could notice the beginning and the end of a tattoo on his hand and his neck, but it was mostly hidden behind his white button down. To tell the truth, she thought he was fascinating for some reason. He was different. Unique.
- Can I help you…? - he asked with uncertainty in his voice. You’re staring again Aisha.
- …I’m sorry - she replied with a calm expression, fixing her eyes back on her bag.
- I’m not a criminal.
- I never said that.
- You thought that.
…
- I like your hair.
- Please leave me alone.
…
No time to overthink that situation, the bus arrived at her destination. She stood up and fixed her clothes, grabbing a pole so as to not fall due to the sharp breaking of the bus. The lanky gentleman left with her.
.
.
Due to the time loss she had to change her plans a bit. First - lunch. There was a single bakery in the town. It was the best, there was no need for any others. The bell dangling from the door jiggled when she opened it. She always liked to listen to the workers, hear them chatter about the simplest things. From the teen interns gossiping about boys, to older bakers talking about politics, it was always nice. She always got the same things. Rye bread, an egg sandwich for her father and ladyfingers for herself. Sometimes, when the owner was on the register duty, she would give her some old eclairs for free, as to “cheer her up”. . . It was true that Aisha’s resting face was on the sadder side, but she rarely felt sorrow. There was always at least one person in the room who would ask her if she was alright. In one way it’s nice they worry about her, but it gets annoying with time. Anyway, free sweets are free sweets, even if they’re stale. Today she wasn’t so lucky. 6.35C$. The price hasn’t changed for the past 3 years and she likes it that way.
- Hey Ash - one of the teen interns leaned on the counter, putting a hand around her friend's shoulder - is it true you’re homeschooled because you ate all the chalk in the school?
She laughed as her friend slapped her hand, angrily whispering something along the way of “she’s a regular” and “Mrs Kinnian is gonna be upset”. The girl just shrugged and called her buzzkill. Aisha felt . . annoyed more than humiliated. Try it sometime, maybe you’d lose some weight, she thought, but per usual, didn’t say it. There was no reason to. She’ll get no reward for being mean back. She was a good girl, r e m e m b e r? She just glanced at the girls and left. No time for that. She quickly got coffee from a cafe, thankfully it wasn’t that busy at this time of the day. Tall black for her dad and medium with milk for her. 5.20C$. Classic.
Now the scary part.
.
.
A lot of girls Aisha has met in her life couldn’t answer the question of what their parents did for work. She wasn’t any different. She knew he’s an accountant and that’s about it. He’s busy and his work is stressful. She never asked about it. His office is on the 5th floor, she always took the stairs. There is no chance of small talk with strangers on the stairs.
.
- For the last time I have no idea what you’re talking about, we don’t sell the- sir, sir please calm down. - Aisha’s father groaned as the person calling him hung up.
She cleared her throat to make her presence known. He looked up and sighed.
- Hey Ash, what’s up - she handed him the sandwich and coffee without a word. There was no need to - is it lunch time already? I swear I just had breakfast.
He unwrapped the meal and took a bite, nodding with approval. He muttered a quick thanks before he got another call. She took it as her queue to leave.
.
She felt weird whenever he was somewhat nice to her. Maybe he isn’t so bad after all? That thought will be changed the second they’re back home. She instinctively touched her arm. It was bruised from the night where he threw her out of the house. “You want to wear that skirt outside? Then wear it outside”. . . doesn’t matter. She has other things to do.
.
She really liked the church building. It was gorgeous. A medium sized renessans built with stained glass depicting the life and death of Jesus Christ. She liked to sketch the poses she saw on them, but today she had a different task to manage.
- Ayesha, you’re here at last - the pastor opened his arms and put his hands on her shoulders.
- Forgive me father.
- Don’t apologise, I’m not upset. Now - he turned to walk beside her, faintly putting his cold hand on her back to guide her - I need you to arrange some flowers for me.
She liked helping out, it made her feel included. Father Olbrecht only trusted her with the flower bouquets in the church. Because before Aisha did them, her mother did them. . .
.
White lilies, roses, hyacinths, tulips, all the pretty flowers. Every now and then, Father Olbrecht asked her if she could make some wreaths or bouquets to make the church look more lively. She, of course, compiled every time. Church was another place she liked eavesdropping in. Alter boys always had funny stories to tell and the gossip the grandmas spewed was priceless. She always knew what was happening in town thanks to them.
- I just came back from the library - Mrs Grabowski sounded terrified - they let anyone work there nowadays.
- Is it the Murthy boy again?
- Yes! He used to be such a good kid, but now? Tattoos, piercings? I didn’t know we had satanists in town!
- How can anybody do that to themselves, it’s horrendous.
- The only horrendous thing here is that outfit - she heard a familiar, yet hushed voice next to her ear.
- River! - she almost drop the flower she was holding
- Did I scare you? - the brunette grinned mischievously - I see you still in your old habits.
- How did you-
- ‘Cause I do it too - she shrugged and sat on the table, pushing away some bouquets Aisha had made. - Who's the Murthy guy?
- Our new librarian, I suppose. I’m going to the library today anyway, you can tag along if you’re so curious.
- Nah, I’ve got better things to do, the town library sucks. I just saw you in the window and thought I’d pay you a visit - she crossed her legs, propping her arm on them to rest her head on her palm - how are you holding up? You haven’t called me in a while, I thought you died.
She froze in her position, staring at a white lily she was holding. What is she supposed to say?
- I’m okay.
- That didn’t sound convincing.
- Was anything I ever said convincing enough for you?
River smiled and nodded her head.
- Touche, I’m gonna leave you be - she ruffled her hair - Don’t do anything stupid.
- You’re stupid.
- Oh, you hurt my feelings - she dramatically put her hand on her forehead - goodbye, meanie. Visit me someday.
She only waved. River and Aisha had known each other since they were little. They always kept in touch, even when River started college. Psychology. Aisha liked reading the big textbooks her friend had around her apartment. She didn’t understand half of the information in them, but the pictures were nice. She especially liked looking at the brain drawings. It’s funny how we are just a bunch of brains trying to understand other brains, River would say… She should get her something. They haven’t properly hung out in a while and it made her feel guilty. Her… issue has lasted a little longer than she expected. But she’s feeling better now, for sure.
.
.
- These are lovely, thank you dear - father announced, taking in Aisha’s work.
- The pleasure is mine, father.
- Here’s a little something for your troubles - saying that, he reached into his back pocket and fished out a praying card with the image of Saint Dymphna on it. She took it and stared at the girl on the paper. To be honest, she forgot about her until now.
.
- Thank you father.
And with that, she pocketed the card and moved on.
It was well after 4 PM when she left the church and made her way to the library. She was actually quite nervous to go there. I fooled myself in front of him and I don’t even know his name, she thought. She has to conquer that fear though, because if she keeps the book for any longer she will pay a penalty. Paying 5.25C$ is worse than possibly meeting eye to eye with a guy she had an awkward interaction with.
.
She stood in front of the building before taking a deep breath and unwillingly stepping in. . .
- Hey Ash! - thankfully Mark was on the register duty - nice to know our regular didn’t ditch us.
- Very funny Marcus.
Aisha has known Mark for about 2 years. He was River’s boyfriend, until she realised she wasn’t into men. The two haven’t spoken much since then, but Ash sees him regularly.
- Hey, hey, Ash, What do you call an alligator in a vest?
- What.
- An investigator!
She stared blankly at him. Mark cleared his throat.
- Anyway… how can I help you?
She pulled out “Lady Lazarus” and her library card out of her bag and set them on the desk. The man nodded and typed something on the computer. She looked around, not wanting to watch Mark work. The library somehow looked like every library ever. From the eggshell white carpets, to the old wooden bookshelves, it looked exactly like a place pulled out of a stereotypical american movie. Although that's what she usually thought, today her eyes were caught by a familiar black ponytail. Her blood froze in her veins. She came back to reality when Mark patted her on the shoulder.
- Heeey, you there? I was asking if you’re borrowing anything new.
Her eyes darted between him and the disappearing silhouette of the lanky man. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out for a good few seconds.
- … You’ve got “The Republic”?
.
.
They didn’t, she got “The Guns of August” instead. Aisha didn’t really liked reading books that much, but there was nothing else to do. She wasn’t allowed to go out too much, she couldn’t watch TV, she couldn’t access most of the web and she definitely couldn’t keep things mom gave her. She was bored out of her mind, but there was nothing she could do about it. She sat down at the riverbank near the library. Through the small town of Leyros coursed the so-called Red River. 30 years ago eight teen dead bodies came up on the shore, the work of a serial killer in the bigger city. That’s how the Moonrose river became Red. Aisha read about the case a while ago and couldn’t get it out of her head. Now, the quiet waters became one of her favourite spots to sit. She pulled out the small bag of ladyfingers she bought before and unwrapped the paper. After taking the first bite, she unfocused her eyes and listened to the water flowing. The cold sun of spring was already setting, colouring the sky pink and orange. The birds were getting quieter, preparing for the night. It will get cold soon, she thought, I should hurry.
- Um… excuse me? - a familiar, raspy voice made itself known from behind her - you… forgot this.
It was the person she didn’t want to see yet. Crouching next to her. Holding her library card. She stared at him, her face stoic but her eyes panicking. She slowly raised her hand to take it from him and equally slowly hid it in her bag, not looking away from the man. They exchanged a few awkward glances, which were quickly interrupted by Aisha choking on the biscuit. The man just stared at her, not sure if he should react or not.
- you okay?
- I’m.. I’m fine - she coughed furiously - uh hey… sorry.. about earlier..
He squinted his eyes and raised an eyebrow.
- What do you mean?
- You know… staring at you, in the bus..?
He stared at her for a second, puzzled, before suddenly connecting the dots.
- ah right, right, yeah no biggie, I-I forgot… to be honest
- Oh - she relaxed her shoulders.
The silence was loud and the tension was thick. She felt awkward, unable to speak, but she couldn’t control herself when he stood up.
- What's your name?
..
- Theo.
She nodded and returned her gaze down. After a few seconds she heard footsteps backing away from her. She bit at the inside of her cheek, tearing away a piece of the soft skin, leaving a metallic taste behind. Talking with strangers made her nervous. Asking for a name is a normal thing to most people, but to Aisha it was difficult. She stared at the flowing water, as if she was waiting for it to answer. God, I hope I never see him again.
.
.
.
She walked through the cemetery. As always, she looked around, looking for interesting looking tombstones and pretty grave candles, but at this point she had them all memorised. She trailed the same path, seeing the same names. Kelly Wilings, Robert Orion, Hank J. Wellington, Lina Lambert…
.
.
The girl crouched in front of the grave. She brushed off some leaves and flowers that fell on the stone block. She fished out matches from her bag and lit a candle, the red hue illuminating the headstone. She brought her hands together in prayer.
- O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of Hell - she whispered under her nose - and lead all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy.