April 2010 , UK
Miles had vanished between the wheels of the Ford Focus. The urn rested in the back seat.
There were somethings time could mend. Grief should be one. For Trinity Grace Smith, time could not mend the hurt of losing her mother to cancer. It was not as though Grace unexpectedly died. It was worse; the waiting for death, the pain and the decay of the body turning to skin and bones was what broke her.
Behind the big black sunglasses, Trinity hid her beautiful heterochromia eyes. The orange ring around the pupil contrasted brightly with the vibrant blue. They were puffy, red and dried out from crying so much. She felt the need to wipe away the non-existent tears that she could not form. The car went by the all the familiar places; the corner shop, the park and the only person who belonged in her memory.
Grief left an emptiness in her heart and a numbness in her soul. People's constant 'hang in there – you'll be okay' or the famous 'I'm sorry for your loss' were still fresh in her ears. She had to face her reality. Her mother was never coming back because she was ash in the back seat.
Her mother's gold locket hung around her neck. She gazed outside the passenger seat window, adjusting the sunglasses on her small nose. She pushed a few strands of her sleek raven hair behind her ear. The April wind calmed her soul.
"What are you thinking about?"
Uncle Ethan, who was driving, had an oddly charming voice. His hands, lithe and muscular held the steering wheel. He had his square face concentrated on the road ahead. He twitched his large Roman nose, hoping his round glasses could find their way to the bridge. He glanced at his niece a few times.
Trinity pulled a small smile from her full lips. "Would it be a lie if I said nothing?"
He nodded, hunching his shoulders "Good comeback."
To fill the silence, Trinity turned up the radio. DJ Keith was presenting the fifth candidate to make it to the Official Top 40 UK Chart.
Ethan blew a huff of air from his balanced oval lips. "Seriously, what has this generation of music come to? It's all nonsensical lyrics and noise pollution." He shook his head, signalling and steering to the right. "Now back in the day – yes, those were the good days."
He parked in the driveway of his detached house. Trinity had left the Victorian terrace house, once filled with happiness, now tainted with death. A few boxes of her belongings rested in the boot and on the back seat. She filtered through everything, held onto a few pieces that were once her mother's. Everything that belonged to her father, she dumped into charity, although she had a desire to burn it.
Trinity needed to start a new chapter. Ethan brought the house across town. She bit her lip, a nervous trait she had at a young age. Change was good and healthy, but she was not accustomed to change as fast as this.
Ethan unclicked his seatbelt. "Look," he began. "I know this is a difficult time and everyone has their own way of grieving. And you're probably going to hate for me for saying this –"
"Uncle -"
"I'm not blessed with kids and you're the closet I'll ever have to a daughter. Grace is irreplaceable. But if you need to talk, about anything, then you have me. I'll do my best."
"I know you will," she said with a half-smile, tapping his hand. "I lost mum, but you lost your sister. You knew her longer than me."
Ethan gave her a quick nod as they left the car. The sun beat down and the wind blew as he stretched his limbs. Trinity stared at him. Maybe with age and years of experience, you were able to mask grief. Her uncle was the type to keep his problems private and hold his head high. He had a calm and composed demeanour, always thinking with a rational mind. He was the type you could rely on in a crisis. Ethan walked around as though it was any other day, were as she felt like an empty carcass.
The first ten, intense beats of 'Eye of the Tiger' blared up the driveway, along with an unpleasant moped, sputtering to a slow death. Katrina Schwarz removed her helmet and shouted in German, "nutzloses Stück Scheiße" – useless piece of shit, kicking the wheels on the driveway. She hurled more abuse, readjusting her rucksack over her shoulder, pausing the song on her phone.
If there was one person who would chase her worries away, it was her best friend on the driveway. Trinity could do with a laugh. She crept behind her friend, aiming for her weak points; she was sensitive around the hips.
Katrina saw the long shadow creeping towards her. She turned and grabbed her hands; a cheeky grin played on her boyish face.
"Got you!" she yelled, embracing her. "It's good to see you woman." She looked at her intently. "Jeez, when's the last time you ate something? Allow it – I'm happy you're back. Closer to college, but you know me, I'll always give you a ride on my shit arsed moped."
"It doesn't look that bad – honestly."
She finger-brushed her pixie blonde hair. "You're shitting me, right?"
Ethan opened the boot of the car, getting their attention. "Great to see you, Kat. We need your muscles."
She put an arm around her friend's shoulder, the other held her helmet. "Well, you know me, can't help but get ripped." She peered into the boxes. "Shit, Trin, is this all your gear?!"
"Yeah," she said at length. "But they're really heavy."
"Heavy my arse." She gave Ethan her helmet and heaved two of the cardboard boxes easily. The uncle and niece gawked at her new physique.
"Whoa! Why is it that every time I see you, your biceps get bigger?" Trinity asked.
She flexed her biceps. "I've been going to the gym a lot." Trinity managed to lift the remaining box and Ethan locked the car. "I end up eating too much and that annoys my trainer. Then I got to convert the fat into muscle."
He unlocked the cobalt blue front door. "Next thing I know, you'll become a bodybuilder and break my wrist in an arm wrestle."
"Ethan, mate, I wouldn't wrestle you," she said. "I've got a deep regard for senior citizens."
Trinity placed the third box outside her bedroom. She could hear Katrina thump her way upstairs. At the door, she could see the magnolia walls, the rich brown carpet and the oak furnishings. She walked into her bedroom which was spacious enough to fit a wardrobe, a double bed and a desk; yet still big enough for Katrina to stay around for the night. Some of her belongings were put in their places, except for one.
As Katrina pushed the neglected third box with her feet and dumped the other two on the bed, Trinity placed a photo of her mother on her bedside table. The more she looked at Grace, the more she was reminded of her absence. Her mother, frozen forever in the frame looked at peace. That was how Trinity wanted to remember her, smiling and content with life, not withering away in her last days.
"It's scary how you two look-alike," said Katrina. "Like a carbon copy. You look more like sisters –"
"I miss her so much."
She sat beside her. "She misses you too, you know."
"I really want to cry but I just can't. I'm exhausted. I've got no tears left to spill."
Katrina put her arm around Trinity's shoulder, the other held her hand. "I don't think Grace would want you to be crying after she's gone. When I lost Josie, who was there to comfort me, to tell me she'd gone to a better place? And who said Josie would hate to see me cry? When I couldn't cry no more, I knew it was time to embrace life. You've mourned for her. It won't last forever."
"How do you do it Kat?" she asked. "You say the right words. It sounds so easy but –"
"But hard to do? Trust me; it seems like that at first. Honestly, Trin, if you weren't with me after Josie's, then I wouldn't be sitting with you."
"Do you ever think about–"
"Every damn day."
Katrina was not comfortable talking about the sister she lost five years ago to leukaemia. She stood, stretched and shook her head, an attempt to occupy her thoughts by unpacking her friend's things.
Trinity glanced around the room. A black framed, full-length mirror rested against the east wall. It belonged to her mother, who would spend hours perfecting herself for a night out and it was a family heirloom dating back to her mother's ancestral heritage. She touched the Georgian engraved swirls with her fingertips and traced it upwards to the chip she could not remember being there.
The reflection alone told Trinity's true form; lifeless, weak with misery, depressed with agony. She looked slimmer than usual; her aqua linen shirt with navy three-quarter length jeans was beginning to feel airy and her once bright and rare eyes held the truth of her sadness. She searched for her old self, happy, gleaming and full of life. Stroking her lengthy raven hair, she glanced at the tips, contemplating if she needed a trim. She needed a distraction.
After Katrina emptied the boxes and placed out the things on the bed, she stood beside her friend. Her aubergine thick-bordered vest and her khaki brown combats were speckled with dust. She styled her dyed golden blonde hair in an upwards motion. Her small, light brown eyes glanced over at Trinity, who was looking at the tips of her hair.
"Did you get the extension for Tanner's essay?"
Trinity shrugged her shoulder. "Yeah, I'm up to date with all my essays. What about your practical?"
"Swimming," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "Got my last stage to do next week."
"And your essay?"
"Can you proofread it?"
Trinity nodded, casting her eyes at the bay windows.
She leaned against the wall. "Were you serious when you said you're gonna cut your dad out of your life?"
Her rare eyes held her friend's stare. "I'm very serious. I solely blame him for everything: the affair, the divorce, mum's cancer. And then he has the nerve to demand custody of me. I rather cut my legs off with a chainsaw then go anywhere near him. Anyway, I don't talk about it. Is your dad still in Germany?"
She sighed, clicking her neck. "Yeah, he's staying back for another four months. Got the house to myself. I'm going to demand a BMW motorcycle. My bike is on its last wheels."
Ethan knocked on the door. "Hey, you two – dinners ready."
From the bay window, a lion roared the night sky; the fork lighting flashed bright white in the distance. The orange streetlights illuminated the heavy rain bouncing the tarmac road, like a hundred war drums beating the roof.
Trinity opened the window and felt the cool drops kiss her outstretched hands. She wished she could have run into the streets, stand in the middle of the vacant road and let the rain cleanse her sorrows, washing it all away towards the gutters.
She looked at her bed to see Katrina already asleep, laying on her front and faintly snoring. Trinity closed the window and got into bed. The alarm clock flashed 23:58 and she needed to wake up early for college. Psychology and History were on her timetable and Katrina's Sport's Science was in the afternoon, but Trinity could use the support of her friend, even though she did not see much of her since her mother started receiving end of life care.
Trinity pulled the bedside drawer open and searched for her mother's locket. Apart from the photo, the golden oval locket was the only reminder of her mother she took with her. Trinity traced the single letter marked D on the cover, assuming the initial was for her father David. Before the funeral, she spent any moment that she could to open it, but it would not budge. She put the locket around her neck, tucking it under her sleeveless pyjama top.
In an attempt to fall asleep, Trinity stared at the mirror and for a moment she thought she saw it ripple like water. She shut her eyes, and before she could open them, she slipped into a deep slumber.
The mirror began to ripple and a pale hand pierced through. Soon to follow was an arm, a leg, a torso until a man appeared into the room. Holding onto his gold locket, his emerald eyes scanned the room and stopped at an occupied bed.
He watched the young women sleeping. He could smell the sweet aroma from the blonde but he would save her for later. His attention was drawn to the other and as she stirred in her sleep, his eyes widen with surprised. Her eyes moved rapidly behind the shells of her lids. He wondered what she saw in there. His hand caressed her soft locks and re-read the instruction from his locket. If this was the only way to get her back then so be it.
He first began with taking her reading glasses from her bedside table and in passing stared at the woman in the frame. He was not surprised by the woman who haunted his existence. To see those rare piercing eyes over a few lifetimes. A crude smile played across his wide lips.
Suddenly the blonde girl sat up and he held his breath. Half asleep, she rubbed her eyes and turned to look at the girl beside her. She sensed somebody else was here. Her hand went to shake her friend. His hand went straight for her mouth. His teeth sunk into her neck.
Her blood reminded him of cherries on a distant summer day. She was a fighter; she kicked, scratched and did her best to push him away. He continued to drink until she felt limp underneath him. He looked at the pretty blonde and stifled a laugh. She moaned and could not open her eyes. His glassy nails stroked her face and he contemplated; should he take her or not?
"Kat?"
Trinity tapped her friend's shoulder. Her hand felt sticky and slippery. She opened her eyes, but a pair of emerald eyes hovered in the dark stopped her from saying another word. She was captivated, looking into the eyes of a serpent, a sense of déjà vu rushing over her. She felt a tug of a fingernail under her chin.
"Sleep," he said in a calm, soothing voice. He effortlessly put her over his shoulder and made his way towards the mirror.
Katrina, shivering from her nightmare, opened her eyes, adjusting to the darkness. She saw a hunched figure, the thing that attacked her, taking Trinity away. She fought the slumber, groaned with much effort getting off the bed and stumbling towards them.
The bedroom door burst open. Ethan tumbled over the boxes. Wincing at the pain in his shin, he clamped his eyes on the intruder.
"YOU!" he roared, pointing a finger at him.
He had his free hand around the locket hanging from his neck, ready to go back. The mirror rippled for his return. He had turned a fraction when the blonde pounced on him. A stumble towards the mirror should have cracked the glass. A flash of lightening eclipsed them into a swirling vortex.
Ethan covered his eyes from the blinding light. He crawled towards the mirror, sensing that for the first time in a long time he was completely alone.
"Trinity," he whispered, slapping the mirror with his palms. "Katrina?" He took a step back, feeling as though the ground gave way. "What have I done?"