The Mystery of Ariella

Twenty-Seven:

Ariella leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. Her eyes fluttered up to the ceiling as she spoke.

      “You’ve never told me this before. Why haven’t you?”

      With that Cy was silent. There was no good reason that he could’ve told her. He had been in her head the whole time-the whole time she was being blamed for her parents’ murder.

      “I think it’s time for us to get some sleep. I think it’s best for the bother of us.”

      “What about this hole? Don’t you think Jude is going to be just a little bit suspicious if there’s a giant hole to your room?”

      Cy blew another cloud of smoke through his nose and nodded. “See that mirror above your sink.”

      “Yeah?” Her voice was harsh.

      “Take the nail from it, and use your shoe to hammer it into the wall, hang the mirror and voilà-you got a secret passage.”

      Ariella got up from her chair and strolled over to the nail. It was loose in the crumbling concrete but still; her fingers were too raw to pick it out.

      “Cy, I can’t.” He groaned and made his way to the hole so he could see through her room.

      “Ariella, come on, it’s loose.” His chin was resting on the hole-his head barely fitting through.

      “My fingers are still raw from a week ago.”

      Cy took a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes for a second before exhaling.

      “You can do it. By the way, I did notice your skin, how raw, and charred it is. I want you to know Jude’s little electrocution act won’t go unnoticed. I’ll have him pay for what he did to you.”

      She shook her head again, picking at the nail with both hands. “Don’t, I don’t want anymore attention to be brought to us. I’ll be fine, I was the one who spit in his face.”

      “I want to keep you safe, I think by doing this-”

      “Will put me in more danger, not just me-us, even Jamie. I may not be the smartest with this kind of stuff but I know by ‘getting even’ with Jude isn’t going to turn out good.” Cy shook a laugh, running his hand along his chin. “When did you become the responsible one?”

      The air became thick with the followed silence. The feeling Ariella loathed. Her hands were bleeding now, the nail that held the stringed mirror was loose and all she had to do now was twist it so it broke free.

      Her fingers gripped the rusty nail and turned it to the right-so the rust released its grip on the wall. The mirror clashed to the floor, sending a spider web through the moldy glass.

      “It’s free.” She whispered. With the nail in her hand Ariella made her way to the hole in the wall. “What do I do now?”

      “Use your shoe as a hammer.” Cy’s face was still visible through the hole. He was smiling. His eyes switched from his own mind to her, the black iris swept up and down as he looked her over. “That’s gotta hurt.”

      “Ugh.” Ariella groaned, looking around for her clothes. Everything was folded on her tables, shoes weighing down the fabric. Ariella grabbed one the shoes with grace and positioned the nail. Her shoe was held ready by her side. With a couple hits of the heel, the nail found its place into the wall, right above the hole. “There.” She breathed.

      Ariella was straightening out the mirror when Cy spoke again.

      “I need to give you something.” His voice was still recognizable through the glass.  it was just as crisp and warm as she'd remebered.

        "What?" The scabs on her skin had opened up with the force she'd used to pound the nail into the wall. Her skin was so tight and the blood dripping from some of the open wounds stained the bandages that were wrapped around her body still-like a bikini.

        With one hand, Ariella pushed the mirror aside like a sliding door, Cy was standing up, pulling his shirt up over his head. 

        His skin was was covered in deep, caving scars that webbed his side. It was digusting to look at, then again-looking into the mirror wasn't the prettiest sight either. Her skin was tight and pink, gross and scabbed, soft and peeling. But his side was different, the scars were red and purple, they disfigured his side and protruded from his skin. It was hard to look.

        Still, he wasn't ugly, not pretty either. He was fit-not so much buff or weak. Cy balled up the dirty shirt and passed it through the hole, the fabric was oilly and gross as it touched her skin.        

        "What about infection?" It was dirtier than a toilet seat, smelling of a seventeen-year-olds' BO.

        He shrugged, the muscles in his shoulders defining slighty. "I wouldn't bother thinking about that, your wounds have alreay scabbed over, you should be fine." Ariella had shrugged the shirt on over the bangages, it hung off her shoulder and covered her butt like a short dress, maybe he was bigger than first perceived. She looked back through the hole where Cy was staring back at her, teeth white and as straight as ever.

        "Goodnight Elle." He backed away from the hole and stretched his arms above his head. There was red ink lacing his left shoulder. A tattoo?

        He threw the cigarette stump on the floor and mashed it with his bare foot, the mirror on his bed was twice as big as hers and the glass was clear and free from mold. Jude gave him everything he wanted. The sheets that he had were clean and she could see the piles of clothes in the corner. It was surprising he was dirty the way he was. Maybe his suply of soap was still controlled like the rest of the house. Ariella moved her mirror over the opening and sat back on her bed. She wasn't tired when she woke up no more than a couple hours ago but now she was exhasted. The room began to weight her down as she climbed under the thin sheets.

        "Goodnight Cy." she replied, and she fell asleep to the soft humming that was heard from the other side of the wall.

Im sorry guys :/ i know its three days late but im really busy and school os going to be starting soon so ive been really busy with my homework. ill see you in five days i hope to have a long chapter up :)