To the Embers

Chapter 1: Mocha

Even in the early hours of the day, Stavshire was already as bright as my future. Above, clouds hung like mobiles in a baby crib, cradling citizens below into a jovial daze. Around each corner, down veiled alleyways, the scent of Barnaby's donuts filled the streets with luring odours. You could almost taste them, melting in your mouth as you step foot outside. As if one would still be asleep beyond the temptation of Stavshire's pleasantries, the euphonious ring of the clock tower struck as it did each morning at 9AM (an odd hour, I agree).

"Earth to E.T!" the familiar buzz of Riley Murphy's pre-pubescent voice snuck it's way past Ollie's deafening music, creeping it's way through rotting eardrums.

"What do you want, pest?" Ollie removed the left side of his earphone, giving in to Riley's over-used jokes. There's nothing quite as soothing as seeing your younger brother appear behind you in a smeared mirror while you attempt to comb your knot-filled hair, he thought to himself.

"The curfews been lifted!" Riley leaped ecstatically, as if it affected him.

"Why do you care?" Ollie raised a brow. He has such full eyebrows even I'm jealous.

"So I don't have to cover for you every time you sneak out of the house." his brother retorted, placing his bacon-stained hands on his hips. I have to admit, he has me to blame for that. I may not be the best of influences around here. My apologies, Ollie. In my defence, sneaking into the movie theatre to watch cliché 60s movies and binge-eating at Hudson Lake afterwards remains the epitome of our highschool lives. To get to the nearest park, cinema or mall would take roughly an hours drive. That being said, no one in our group of friends is particularly skillful behind the wheel so we'd rather stick with our familiar antics.

"You aren't Shakira. I'll be down in a second... save me some bacon, will you?" Ollie teased. He could try to bicker with Riley, but at the end of the day, blood binds all wounds. That was one thing I envied about the Murphy family: their ability to make amends subsequent to a heated quarrel. I guess my parents could benefit from taking some notes.

The smell of bacon must've caught his attention, for Riley had vanished down the carpeted staircase of the Murphy residence within moments. Ollie gazed at the mirror, wondering why he ever bothered to look somewhat decent. Who was he trying to impress? The same, dull people we've been schooling with since our colouring book days? Grabbing his midnight blue backpack, he scurried downstairs, eager to devour his mum's mouth-watering cooking. Anyone who has tried Ms.Murphy's cooking can validate her precision, including me. 

"Ollie dear, your brother has grown the appetite of a caveman. You'd better grab your portion while you can." she scoffed, ushering Ollie to their circular breakfast table.

"I don't blame him." Ollie beamed, reaching for the scrambled eggs, "I heard the curfew's been lifted. Is that true?"

"Apparently so," Mr.Murphy looked up from the newspaper resting contentedly on his lap. "Though they haven't even caught the murderer."

"Andrew," Ms.Murphy frowned. "If it is a homicide, that is."

"You knew her, right Ols?" Riley peered intently at his elder brother, seeking for the juiciest gossip he could get his grubby hands on. 

"I knew of her, Riley. That's it. Lillian Kingsley started homeschooling before you even knew how to walk." Ollie sighed, reluctant to join in on the neighbourhood rumours. 

"Whatever. My friends say she used to sleep around with–"

"Riley! That's highly inappropriate." Ms.Murphy fumed, her tone intensifying. 

"Why are you friends with these people?" Ollie stood up. "I have to go now. Thanks for the positive, motivating breakfast talk." With that, he swung his backpack over a shoulder and paced towards the door.