Come Back Darling

I'm A Murderer.

Cadenza saw him everywhere. Up the trees. In the lake. Trapped in the corner of her room. Hidden amongst the shadows. Where ever she went, he was there and she couldn't take it.


2. Present 1


One. Two. Three. Four. Five. One Hundred.

Street-lamps lined the twisted road, lighting the black with a beeswax-coloured, soft glow. Cadenza ripped her eyes away from the dirty window and sighed. Why was doing such a simple task as counting street-lamps so difficult? Maybe it was the fact her fingers kept tapping the rhythm of each number against her scar, which created a searing pain that seeped through her veins. Not a physical pain, but a pain of hurt with the memories that flickered on and off in her mind like a broken flash-light at each touch.

"How ya doing Caddy?" her Dad asked, tilting his eyes to the rear-view mirror, trying to glimpse at his daughter. Cadenza slid down in her seat so only the tip of her lilac hair could be seen. Her Dad grunted, lifting his shoulders with the noise, and stared back out at the blackened tar. The question lingered in the air.

"Meh." That seemed a pretty valid response and summed up her attitude (a I-don't-want-to-do-this-so-leave-me-alone attitude) perfectly.

"Now, please speak proper English," tutted her Mother, straightening out a stray crease on her fuchsia skirt. Unlike, Cadenza with her pre-ripped jeans and band based shirts, her Mother was incredibly smart looking. Pencil skirts, neat blouses, heels, everything that Cadenza despised. The only issue her Mother had was anything to do with fashion itself. She would match a baby blue skirt with a startling yellow polo top and then add burgundy heels to the mix.

"Mum, why am I even going anyway?" She slipped even further down in her seat so the grey seatbelt dug into her neck and left a deepening red indent.

"Because we need to help you darling. With your exams nearing and the memories becoming even worse, we need to help you be not so, so, so-"

"Messed up?"

"No! Not so slightly damaged. You know what I mean Cadenza." Cadenza rolled her eyes. She knew that normality was an issue with her after what happened and the permanent scar on her leg didn't help her forget. Sometimes she would see him, hiding playfully behind trees or reading a book in the corner of her room. He wouldn't leave her alone.

"No, Mum, I don't. Do tell me," she teased, a surprising twist of mocking sincerity in her voice.

"Cadenza, stop being so infantile and sit up." She twisted upwards and stared back out the window.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. One Hundred.

Damnit. Cadenza put a finger on the window and tried to trace the outline of the sun which bobbed serenely in the sky. She remembered getting excited as a kid when the moon would follow her car all the way home. Now the sun seemed to be doing that too.

Outside was an interesting image. There were endless hills, giant grassy mounds that stuck up from the earth and brushed against the blue of the sky. Flowers were everywhere, to Cadenza they were meaningless yellow and white specks that danced with the way of the wind, but up close they were quite beautiful. Cadenza felt quite maddened that a road had been created through this place. She wondered if the drooping trees would stand a little taller if there wasn't cars roaring around all over the place. Maybe the clouds would seem that bit more fluffier if there wasn't all the pollution from the machines that clattered along the tar. Maybe she could hear the gentle whistle of bird song if there was no disruption. Or maybe she should just roll the window down.

"Caddy, are you sure you're gonna be okay at the place? You'll have your mobile remember." Cadenza was pretty sure her Dad had continued talking but she was distracted. In the window, instead of rolling hills and patterned skies, she saw a face.

A slightly chubby, highly cheeky face with rounded cheeks and scatterings of light freckles. A face with taunting hazel eyes that shone with laughter and mischief. A face that had slightly chapped lips which looked like they had been tinted with red lip balm. A face with a floppy, sandy blonde fringe that swept across the forehead in wobbly cuts and long hair on the rest of the head.

A face that belonged to her dead brother Oakley.

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