When Clyde Parker, the wayward son and the rotten-apple of the Parker family-tree, storms his way back into Avery Fields, he sets out a flurry of butterfly effect in Dawn Marshal's life.
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WHY WAS HE HERE? The very question had been troubling him for nights. This town had only inflicted pain upon him. The place where his mother fell in love with a man named Calum Parker, and the first milestone was cemented.
His mother had him at sixteen that was the second and the third milestone led to her death. He had his mother's eyes but nothing of his father.
Since birth his life was an ultimate tragedy - no father, sick mother. The Oliver Twist of misfortunes. He was starting to think, either Shakespeare or Dickens' had penned down the next big tear-jerker his life was turning out to be.
After his mother's demise he had learnt that home wasn't a place but a person and with his mother gone he had lost his home.
But sometimes, when he thought of home fiery brown eyes flashed through his mind and nothing ever made sense; things have ceased to make sense for months now. He came back here for answers but the baggage of questions he had been carrying around only grew heavier, weighing him down.
°•°•°
She was mopping around in her room when Alec called her over to his house - specifically his garage to hear his band play.
It was a closet-band consisting of his fellow musicians with wacky hairdos, tattoos and piercings. Alec had a tattoo or two but fortunately for Mrs. Henderson's weak heart, his hair was untouched.
The garage reeked of petrol and grease and rusty metal. Graffiti tainted the flaky grey walls like a toddler's meaningless doodles and posters were hanging from the wall of bands and artists she had never heard of. She sat on one of the scrappy, moth-eaten bean bags and listened to the loud rock music. It was the kind her brother would straight up listen to for days.
Somehow, minutes turned into hours and hours turned into 11 o'clock at night. It way past her curfew on a school night and with Alec's place being an hour away in the outskirts of town, didn't help either.
The trees were arched enclosing the boulevard in a coven. The night sky was nearly invisible behind the thick canopy of leaves. Only the stars twinkled through their cracks and crannies.
Some houses on the either side emitted light through their tiny windows, some had their curtains drawn. The lane was desolate, she watched the headlights of a few cars flash but they were too far away.
It was a Ghost town.
She thought of daytime when the sunshine escaped through the crevices of the leaves and fell on the asphalt. The road was sizzling, some pedestrians walked on the crusty old pavements and very few cars passed by. It was always scarcely empty.
Her clammy fingers gripped the steering wheel and she drove warily through the dark boulevard. The thought of a serial killer popping in front of the road, right before her car or a wild beast crawling out of the bushes haunted her every second.
