Tell No One

Chapter 4

Saturday rolled around, and Kiera woke up hours before her alarm. She laid in bed, thinking, staring at the ceiling and trying to find the resolve to get up.

Often, it were the mornings when she first wakes up that she is the happiest. Those five seconds of bliss before her mind registers who she is and what her life means. She still hadn't gotten used to the quiet. Since her mum died, the atmosphere had turned oppressive. Half the time, she still expected to turn the corner to see her mum bustling about in the kitchen, or with her feet up watching T.V.

Her death had been quick, sudden. It was a whiplash of normal life to a sudden departure, a figure so prominent in Kiera's life her death had been like losing a limb.

They say she died painlessly. The impact on the asphalt killed her instantly, her brain coming to a stop so sudden inside her skull that it was just instantly turned to mush.

An ambulance was called, people stared, and her body was zipped into the black mesh of a body bag. Kiera identified the pulverised remains later that day.
The worst part is that no one knows why she jumped. She told no one.

And now, now there was only silence. Deafening silence. The air feels dead as Kiera starts her morning routine. The ghosts of the apartment haunt her, touch her, whisper into her ears as she ignores their probing fingers.

Only lately, they seem to be in recluse. Even the dreams had stopped. Kiera usually dreamed of falling, falling falling off a building so high she couldn't see the ground. She was forever waiting for the impact only- the past week she'd gotten the best sleep she'd had in the last few months.

Waiting at the bus stop, Kiera felt a stir of excitement that hadn't graced her in months. She'd already called ahead, and now she felt ready to go back to work. She missed it so much. The independence, the smell,- and yes- the money. Her mum's life insurance would only last so long. Finally, the bus arrived, hydraulics moaning as the doors opened to let her on.
Kiera worked at a local florist, owned by a kindly old woman by the name of Mrs Corsinn. Retired, she often entrusted Kiera to run the shop by herself, which she was more than happy to. Being around the flowers, watching their blooms and keeping them healthy was a passion Kiera was happy to fulfil.

Opening up shop, Kiera donned the blue work apron and switched the 'Open' sign around. Mrs Corsinn had resumed her place whilst she was off  'sick', and Kiera could not help but feel a pang of guilt in the retiree having to do her work. But perhaps, coming here may have been a better remedy for her blues. Being around the brightly coloured flora, their wafting scents calmed Kiera's flitting mind down. Idly, she remembered seeing an article finding flowers had an impact on mental health. Yes, this was where she wanted to be right now.
Making the pre-ordered baskets were always the best part of the job. The careful choosing, the cutting and snipping; it all had to be perfect to give off just the right effect. Too much red here, too much white in that section, just swap those two around- 

The sound of the bell rang out, signalling the arrival of another customer.
"Just a second!" Kiera called from out back. Putting the bouquet on hold, Kiera rushed to the front desk, a friendly smile plastered on her face.

"Hi, welcome to Corsinn's, how can I..." Kiera tailed off, the words dying on her lips.

"Hello, Kiera." Mera stood before her, casually leaning against the counter with one hand whilst giving her a sly smile. Kiera absent-mindedly noticed he wasn't wearing gloves.

"Shit," Kiera muttered under her breath. Mera only raised an amused brow. "Oh oh I mean- well, how can I help?" Mera's smiled broadened, his smile reaching his eyes.

"Expect to see a lot more of me, Kiera. I'll be checking up on you daily." Kiera's response was only a baffled expression, mouth slightly agape as she processed Mera's meaning. "Have you even done anything with your gifts yet, Kiera?" Kiera's mouth went a bit dry as she tried to find a response. Her brain wasn't even past processing the fact Mera was in front of her right now. She had half convinced herself that night had been some sort of imagined fever dream. "Kiera?" Mera's brow furrowed. "Everything alright?"
Kiera blinked, finally caught up. "Oh yes, yeah, sorry. But um-" Kiera looked sheepish- "No, not really. About the whole powers thing that is." Kiera didn't even know what she was capable of. What had she even been given? Mera sighed, drawing her attention back to him.

"Do you even know what you're capable of?" Kiera eyed him suspiciously, wondering whether one of his powers were mind reading.
Curiously, Kiera watched as Mera walked over and plucked a rose from a stand. Coming back in front of her, he watched her eyes to make sure she was paying attention.

"What you have been given, Kiera-" Mera kept her enraptured within his gaze- "Is a blessing of divinity." Kiera watched in awe as the rose began to swell in size. "Few have been offered the chance, and fewer still take it." The rose kept blooming, more petals adding to the outside in an ever-increasing swirl of red. "You have jurisdiction over life and death. You are judge, jury and executioner of anyone you deem fit. In essence, you are death incarnate." Mera's gaze still captured her, but Kiera dragged her gaze away from his obsidian eyes to stare at the rose. Now it had reached proportion bigger than her head, the thorns bigger than nails. "You can facilitate life. Or, you can destroy it." Kiera watched in apt fascination as the rose in his fingers wilted, melted like snow in the sunshine. Within seconds, the rose had gone through the entire cycle of death, from decay to rot, until finally, it was nothing more than dust in Mera's hand. "Your time is limited, Kiera." Mera's eyes glittered, the serious expression on his face seeming foreign, like it didn't belong. Mera held out his hand, palming the dust into her outreached one. "Don't waste it."
Without another word, Mera threw Kiera a discerning smile before fading out in a swath of shadows. 

Transfixed, Kiera looked at her hand.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Kiera looked at the dust resting in her palm, which painted her hand grey. As she watched, a tiny bud began to form. "I am death incarnate."