Seven Stories

Chapter 1: Stormy Weather - Confidences

Larmy was standing near the living room table, smiling uncomfortably to an aunt she barely knew, listening to her speak about how hard it was to be a teenager in this wrecked world. The young girl nodded when she thought she was expected to do so, but never spoke a word. She was shooting glances towards her circle of cousins, whom she got along with well, though they were never as close as Eric and her were.

She was truthfully touched by the attention — her house had somehow been turned into the inside of a birthday cake, or so it seemed. There were balloons of every color floating around in every corner of every room — and she had checked: even the bathroom had been ballon-ed up. Bright banners with triangles pointing down fought their way between the huge, blue "Happy Birthday Larmilai" and too many hanging ribbons to count. The table next to her itself had been bathed in sparkles as much as in candies and cakes.

Larmilai felt Eric's hand in hers. She turned around to meet his bright gray gaze.

"Larmilai, you've got to see this" he said and pulled her towards the kitchen. Larmilai barely had the time to mutter a vague apology to her aunt, who seemed to take abandon pretty well, and was already looking at the small pizzas on the table.

"Thanks for getting me out" Larmy smiled once they were in the kitchen. Her friend shook his head.

"No worries, Larmiputian. Want some pretend champagne?"

He was showing her a bottle of fizzy apple juice in a fancy bottle on the counter.

"I think they're saving it for the cake" Larmilai pointed out. Eric shrugged, which surprised her. Eric was not one to meddle with someone else's plans. Then he opened the fridge, which was wrapped in pink ribbons, and revealed the dozen glass bottles stored in it.

Larmilai burst out laughing. When she finally was able to catch her breath again, she nodded to Eric, who gladly opened the bottle over the sink, and poured two drinks of the golden, bubbly juice.

"What would you guys have done if I had lost?"

"You wouldn't have lost" he replied with a smile.

"You couldn't have know that for sure."

Eric shrugged again, and ran a hand through his perfectly combed brown hair. Every hair fell back in place neatly, a proof of excellent taming that dazzled Larmy every time.

"Your parents thought in the event of losing on your birthday, this would cheer you up."

He frowned. Larmy was about to answer that they had gone through to much trouble, but he spoke again.

"They don't know that nothing can cheer up broody Larmy. Can you tell me what's going on now?"

Larmy's eyes widened.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, I know you. Even you would at least show a little happiness, or pride, at having beat Trevor Brute."

Larmy looked away, tightened unconsciously her grip around her plastic glass.

"I'm fine, Eric, I... Maybe I'm a little tired from the fight."

"A terrible lier is what you are. Is it those dreams again?"

Larmilai shook her head no. She turned to face the counter, and closed her eyes to make sure they would not meet Eric's.

"You can tell me anything, you know that, don't you?"

His voice was soft, comforting. Larmy sighed.

"Promise you won't tell anyone even if it scares you?"

"Scares me?"

"Promise."

Eric took her hand, and she felt him squeeze gently. It was promise enough for her.

"I saw him."

"In the dream?"

She opened her eyes.

"No, Eric, I saw him yesterday, right in front of my house."

She turned to face him and locked her gaze to his. Her green eyes were flaming, but they were dry as she added:

"I saw the killer."