Painting Flowers (A Jack Barakat fanfic)

Chapter 16

*Alex's POV*

I wake up to the quiet murmur of the door shutting. I open one eye and see Kathryn's bed is empty. I bolt upright and take a glance out the window, only to see an all-too-familar figure standing there. It's Jack. I stand and watch for a bit longer before a red-headed figure appears, climbing out the window. Of course, it's Kathryn. I knew that their date wouldn't be cancelled all for some small fault. Not with Jack at least. 

I lie back down in my bed, but I am now wide awake, unable to fall back into sleep. I lie awake and stare into the ceiling. So this is what it's like for Kathryn. It's frustrating, not being able to sleep. I'd hate to have to do this for hours on end each night. I've told her she needs to see someone about it, a psychologist or therapist maybe. It could be insomnia and she could be perscribed something to help, like sleeping pills, quite easily. Right? 

I remember the first time I met Kathryn. It wasn't when she first moved here but before that. Years before. We had gone over to Glastonbury to pay them a visit. I don't remember what for. Maybe just because. I was 9 years old and I vaguely remember that Kathryn had just had her 7th birthday. She was a bit of a strange child, but then again, is there any child that isn't strange in their own way?

I remember walking outside to the backyard and finding her playing in her sandbox with some dolls. "What are you doing?" I'd asked her. She looked up at me with curiousity and confusion and without answering my question, she'd asked me another. "Who are you?"  Her accent rang out through my ears and it reminded me of the way her mother spoke. I didn't think that they'd be so similar. Her hair was a light hazel back then. "My name is Alex. They said you're my cousin." I informed her, sitting on the edge of the pit. The moment I sat down, her eyes widened and she looked at me with alarm. "You're sitting on him." She said. I stared at her as though she was crazy and looked around. I hadn't seen anyone else around when I walked outside. "Sitting on who?" I asked. She pointed at the spot where I was sitting with a completely straight face. "You're sitting on Tate." I stood up and moved to the opposite side of the pit, wondering who she could be speaking about. "Better?" I said. She nodded and looked back at her sand-coated dolls. "Are you Kathryn?" I asked her. She just nodded again, correcting me with "Kat." before continuing to play. She really was an odd child. I sat and watched her play with her dolls in such an odd manner for a while longer. I just watched her. She seemed so emotionless, even as a young child. Had something happened to her family at the time that could've triggered it? If so, I have no recollection of such an event.

However, I do remember, as my mother called me inside to bid farewell to Kathryn's parents as we were leaving, I do remember Kathryn standing up and taking my hand for a moment, sliding something onto my wrist. She said something along the lines of, "This was his. You have it." before turning her back and continuing to play. I had gone back inside after that and said goodbye to my Aunt and Uncle and we had gone straight back to the airport from there. Only when I was on the plane did I remember that I hadn't properly examined what Kathryn had given me. It was a bracelet made from spherical beads in a recurring pattern - Black then white then black and so on. It was quite glossy when she had given it to me, but it's been a long time so of course, it's lost some of that shine. I still wear it to this day. 

I take a glance at the bracelet on my wrist before rolling over and quickly falling into sleep once more, only to be woken less than an hour later by my mother shaking me lightly. "Alex. Alexander, wake up." she murmurs softly into my ear. I moan and roll over sleepily. I open my eyes slightly and squint into the light of my now-lit bedroom. "What?" I groan, clutching my bedsheets, unwilling to let them go at any point soon. My mother steps back for a moment, letting go of me. "Come on, get dressed. We need to go." I look over at my alarm and see it's only 5:28 in the morning. I sit up and scratch my head, yawning and glancing at her in confusion. Where could we possibly need to go at this hour? "Go? Go where? It's five-thirty." I look over at Kathryn's bed and my heart sinks when I see she's still gone. Maybe she got up before I did. My mother looks at me with a glance that makes me feel uneasy. "It's about Kathryn."