Blood Blossoms

Luanne

Rain pelted against the tinted windows. Aside from its constant drum, silence reigned inside the car. To her left sat her brother, and to his left, their father. She had been first in the car, and she would be last out. Like always. Her mom had insisted on not coming, saying it wasn't safe anymore, that their family shouldn't all gather in one place at a time like this. Evidently, that had caused some friction between her parents, and judging from her father's still creased brow, she'd rather steer well clear of his foul mood. Good thing he was busy on his phone tending to, probably, matters of the family. Things were less awkward this way. The limo's interior was way too intimate with its single long bench.

Cars zoomed past them. Of course they would. They were on the highway and the limo was unwieldy. Long and bulky and awkward. She still wasn't sure why each of the families had taken limousines if they only occupied a few of the dozen available seats per vehicle. Their car led the cortege comprising of three other black limos. Henry's family was right behind them, followed by the Lyons' and lastly, by Lynne's.

Lewis spoke up, addressing the chauffeur up front, "How long 'till we get there?" 

He looked sullen, every bit as bored as she knew he was. When no response seemed forthcoming from the baldy driver–every goon their families employed was somehow bald except for the head of security, Andrew–he returned his eyes to glaring straight ahead at the window glass rippling afore him. The pattern offered by the rain was fascinating, she was sure.

There was nothing to do, nothing to talk about, and neither she nor Lewis had their phones with them. Security reasons, her dad had said.

She allowed herself a discreet sigh and prepared to nap. The drive to the airport would be a long one. She stretched her legs in front of her, her gaze drooped, and her eyelids were about to close when she noticed her shoes. They had gotten much dirtier than she had realized. The rain must have stirred up the soil earlier. She stomped her feet, trying to shake off the dirt and hoping it wouldn't crust. Canadian soil or not, graveyard dirt was graveyard dirt, and she didn't want to bring that back to Australia as a souvenir.

She kept stomping and stomping, unbeknownst to even herself. Why did she have to notice her shoes? She had been fine, just fine. Clouded skies were invading her mind–the rain must have made its way into the car too, because her vision was getting blurry. Wet and blurry, like the rain-streaked windows that were suffocating her.

"Nhu! What are you doing?!" her dad bellowed.

She looked at him, unbridled tears now streaming down her cheeks. "Why dad?! Why did this happen?! WHY?!"

"Nhu..."

Her voice broke down into sobs as she muttered, more to herself than anyone else, "How could this happen...?"  

Her father's face softened. "I don't know," he said, looking away. His frown came back. "This should never have happened."

She let herself fall to her side, plopping down on the cushy bench. She was tired and she didn't want to talk anymore. Or do anything else for that matter. She would sleep. Yes, sleep would be good.

So she closed her eyes and prayed for sleep to claim her. Tears trickled still. She was probably a mess right now but she didn't care.

Before she lost herself to the void of unconscious thoughts, to her promised restless sleep, a mumble escaped her lips: "Misaur..."