Curtain Down

Chapter 22 - The Cold and The Warm

Author's Note: Yay! I'm doing better with my updates now. Proud of me? Well, I am anyway haha :) Enjoy!

*****

I walked through the old town square, a little disappointed and no more intelligent than when I’d set off. All I knew was that I was jealous of the magician and that he confused me to no end with his tricks. The clock chimed and I glanced up to see the skeleton pulling on his chain and the dolls come in and out of their doors. It was twelve o’clock but I didn’t feel like eating, after all, I’d only just had breakfast. I stood in the middle of the square, watching the clock and debating whether to go and call in on Otto or just go home and burn the evil looking puppet sitting in my room. Presuming it was still sitting there...I shivered at the thought of it moving and resolutely decided that I’d go home and burn the thing once and for all. Otto could wait until tomorrow-

“Anna!” I paused in mid step as my thoughts were interrupted by a shout that came from the other side of the square. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and turned around.  I saw Erik walk up to me, his hair ruffled from the breeze, his cheeks flushed from the cold and his eyes shining a little. The boy actually looked alive for once, rather than when he had this hair flattened against his head with his pale face from spending far too many hours indoors, reading books or whatever it was those posh folk did.

“Hello.” I said, smiling. At one point I would have snapped at him but after our little incident with the puppets I didn’t think Erik was as bad as I first thought. Annoying? Yes. Arrogant? Yes. Amusing to make fun of? Definitely yes.

“You know, I was looking for you today and your uncle said you’d gone out and-“

“Whoa,” I said, raising my palms in the air “take a breath, alright?”

“Well, I need your help.”

“Again?” I said, cocking an eyebrow. “Dear me, Erik. What have you-“

But I never got to finish my sentence as Erik said “listen! I’m being serious.”

 I wiped the grin from my face. “What is it?”

“Well,” Erik looked away from me and then back again and then at the floor “we gave some of the puppets you left to our friends and...” Erik went quiet.

“What?” I said, panic flaring up inside me.

*****

A man, dressed in mourning, paced up and down the flowery bedroom. His gloved hands shook and he clasped them tightly together, pausing to look out of the window. He stared at the sky, the grey sky full of clouds that could bring snow or perhaps rain. Then he turned away and glanced at the coffin laid out on the bed. He’d requested it to be left in this room for the night, before the funeral. Just so his beautiful daughter might sleep in her bed one last time. A tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek as he reached out and clasped the girl’s cold, cold hand. Her fingers icy and her pulse gone. Dead. She was dead. Her long eyelashes rested on her porcelain face, her mouth so very red and her skin so very white. Her hair so very black against her skin. Against the long white dress and against the satin interior of the coffin.

Did such a lovely life deserve to be wiped out? The girl couldn’t have been older than fourteen, her life only just begun. But now she lay at the end of it, lilies laid on top of her chest. Her chest that would never rise and fall again. Breath would never escape her mouth. Laughter would never ring from her again. Her father’s hands shook, his eyes watered. “My dear...” he whispered.

So cleverly hidden was the slash in the girl’s neck. A ruby red choker necklace rested against her throat. Small droplets of diamonds hung from the chain creating the unnerving effect of a cut throat. Just what lay underneath. Death by murder was never pleasant.

*****

“Erik?” I said, when he still didn’t answer.

“She’s dead.” He said, his throat tight. “We lent the puppets to a friend,” Erik raised his eyes to the heavens “his daughter...was murdered. The very next day. Cut throat.” He turned his head away from me.

“Oh my...Erik, I’m so sorry.” I looked down at him then and took in his mourning clothes. A black suit with a flower in his button hole. “I...I had no idea. I’m sorry. Really.” I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I never really am when someone dies. Sorry never really seems to do it justice. But, this time, I felt the need to apologise. “Erik, I’m sorry. I should have never-“

“Don’t you dare go blaming yourself.” His voice was thick and he swallowed “don’t you dare. It’s not your fault. It’s the puppets...” A tear streaked down his face. “She was...a good person.”

I felt the urge to put my arms around him, he looked so lost and alone. I wasn’t sure whether I should, whether it was right. But when I saw the second tear, the way he ran his hand through his hair and how he looked away, I made up my mind. “I’m sure she’d be glad to hear that.” I said as he shook slightly.

“But now she never will, will she?” His voice was heavy, thick with tears and sadness.

“I’m sure she’s listening.” I paused for a moment, registering Erik’s warm cheek and his shaking. Sometimes, the way he acted, I expected him to be cold. But now I was sure he was very much alive and his tears burned my skin. “Did you like her?” I said.

“I suppose...” Erik stepped back and looked at me. “She was just another girl. I knew her, she was...was a good person but...I don’t know. I don’t think I counted her as a special friend but...Gosh, Anna. I’m scared. I’m so scared it’s me next. I’m so scared the puppets will get me and...I’m so guilty. I might not have liked her as a special friend but if she died because of-“

“It was as much you as it was me. Remember? It’s the puppets.”

“Curse those wretched dolls.” Spate Erik, wiping away at his face.

Yes. Curse them indeed, I thought to myself.

*****

Author's Note: Well, Erik is back :) You haven't seen him in a while and, yes, I thought he needed to appear again. Hope you liked it and thanks for the support :)