"See no evil. Speak no evil. Listen carefully."
A family akin to a modern Adams' Family moves into the derelict house across the street from Kota. Intrigued by the beautiful doll-like daughter, he and Nathan attempt to befriend her while trying to u...
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• Victor•
I sigh to myself as I walk through the woods to Kota's place. We've taken to parking our vehicles at the diner to keep suspicion to a minimum. Rue has proven to be an incredibly and unnervingly observant girl. It's like she sees and hears everything, even if she's not there.
Luke jokes about her hiding in the shadows of the rooms we all congregate in, however, it's starting to feel less like a joke. She keeps running into us at the oddest times. When she's home she watches us from the windows, unflinching when we stare back.
It's as if she wants us to know she's watching. A silent warning full of dark promise.
There's a threshold. One I feel if we cross, we won't be able to come back from. She's the gatekeeper standing sentinel over the wards of her home.
I wrap my arms around myself, shivering as the temperature drops. Autumn in the south is a fickle thing with warm evenings and frigid nights and even frostier mornings. The wind blows my far too long hair into my eyes, making it hard to see. I've been so busy lately it's grown into my eyes and brushes my shoulders. The waves are weighed down so much the only curl is at the end of the strands. The tabloids have been raving about my new 'rebellious' phase.
Pausing to readjust my black military coat tighter, I glance up at the treetops where autumn is obviously slipping by. The array of golds, reds, and oranges are wilting into death ridden brown. They're practically crumbling in the gentle breeze.
I watch as the wind plucks one off the top of the tree overhead. It dances slowly down towards me. I'm entranced by the beauty of such simple harmony. The cycle of all things. It brings life to us and in return we give it death.
Winter will arrive early this year it seems.
I hold out a hand, shoving the other into my coat pocket, awaiting it's descent. The leaf lands perfectly on my open palm bringing with it a surreal beauty on this lovely frigid night under a waning moon.
My chin tilts down to gaze upon it, my long hair fluttering to frame my face. I grunt softly as I give the withering soul a small sad smile.
"Thank you.", I murmur to it.
The breeze sweeps under it and carries it off towards the trees. I tuck my other hand in my pocket, watching it disappear from my life forever.
As the breeze carries it away, something else gets carried with it. A soft humming is caressing my ears, soothing the sting of the biting cold. It's a sad song, a lullaby of mourning and loss. And yet it's so stunning, a feast for my prodigal ears.
