The Ordinary Dead

The Aftermath

The autumn's air sent a chill down Ciara's spine that particular evening. It was cold, but it had been raining, and so the ground was wet. It was 1:30 in the morning, however, and the concrete jungles of London became rather wet and slippery. Although the sky was filled with an ever-present blanket of clouds, the moon shone brightly through their cotton-like texture. She was used to it though - it was nothing short of typical English weather. The wind ran through her hair in waves as she walked in long strides, dragged by her wrist by Kyran. They left the nightclub hastily after the incident - Kyran stabbed Ciara's now ex boyfriend, Kyran. They had only managed to escape through the window, scraping past a growing crowd of people, just before the police arrived. 

"Let go of me!" she shouted, jerking her wrist free of Kyran's grip. "What the utter fuck is wrong with you?"

"What have I done that's so bad?"

"What have you done?" She gritted her teeth. "First, you disrespect my relationship, second, you disrespect me,"

"First, I asked you a civil question about why you were still with him if he was such an asshole. Secondly, I told you that you were pretty,"

"Third," This time, her voice became more stern and unedged. "You stabbed my boyfriend."

Kyran listened to the sirens that burst into the air, filling his head with the loud noise of police car and ambulance sirens. "Third," he paused for a moment to listen again. "Well, I can't really deny that one, can I?"

Stabbing someone rarely ever went unnoticed, especially in such a popular nightclub as the 'Dance' nightclub in central London; the amount of sirens were sufficient for the scene.

Ciara had many other topics whizzing through her head to hear the sirens. For her, they were static, background noise that curled into her head as if someone where whispering it to her: 'Brendan is dead'; 'You can't get home!'; 'You're running around London with a murderer!'; 'Run!'; 'Brendan is dead'; 'It's all your fault!'

The whispers were waved that crashed onto shore in her head, and the spitefulness of the words was the fire that sparked the adrenaline in her veins. She naturally had a feisty nature, and other than Kyran dragging her out of the nightclub by her wrists, she thought it could possibly explain why exactly she was following him down the streets of central London. She didn't think she would give up until she found out why exactly he decided to stab her boyfriend.

"Why?" she asked, her tears turning her making her makeup into black waterfalls that streaked down her face, leaving behind a smudge like smoke. 

"'Why' what, exactly?" He sighed.

"Why did you do it?" Her voice was pained as she shouted at him. She stopped dead in the middle of the path, the night's cold air sending more shivers up her spine, and turning her arms into a maze of goosebumps. "Why did you have to stab him?" 

"Because," He stopped walking in front of her, and glanced over his right shoulder at her. "I needed to get you away from him." His voice was flat and cold, as if he showed no remorse for what dreadful act he committed. 

"But why?" she screeched, her voice catching on the tears in her throat. "You don't even know me!"

"Oh, Ciara, I know much more about you than you think I do."

"Like what, exactly?"

"Ciara Hunter," he began, and cleared his throat. "Your hair is naturally brown, am I correct? But you dyed it black because you always knew that if you had black hair, your baby blue eyes would stand out so much more. You have a curvy figure, which was one of the many things that Brendan found attractive about you. You're curvy in all the right places - but for the love of God don't take that the wrong way, like most girls do. I'm not calling you fat." He looked at her facial expression, and saw that somehow, she still wasn't exactly impressed. "You aren't fat. I would say that... well, if I could see more of you, I think I'd be CLEAR enough to say that you in fact have the perfect figure." He used his eyes to scan up and down her body, judging her hourglass figure and slim, long legs.