Well, well, well. I just can't help myself with a bit of blood, what can i say :L Cold heart is going to have to wait because i'm having too much fun writing this :D So, please vote and comment. Please do. No one ever does.
-- Sookie
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Two
What to do on a Saturday in Caratelle, is a whole new story. The village centre usually had a market on until the afternoon, selling any shitty thing they could think of, and that was basically the social highlight of many of the villagers weeks. I hated going, but it got me out of the house, and shut my nana up moaning for a while. She had her own stall where she sold cakes she’d spent the whole seven days making, and expected me to help out by offering the punters free samples, which I had no problem with doing because hey- free cake! She made quite a bit of money off of it, and that totalled up with the bakery she owned in town made us quite well off amongst the others.
This Saturday was different. The sun of course hadn’t come out, but the rain had stopped and the grey cobbles of the village floor had dried overnight. We walked the longish walk up into the village and set up the table, me placing all the sexy cupcakes on pretty stands. I wore my blue skirt and leather jacket, my light blonde hair curly and long. I’d never liked my hair, it was a pain in the ass to straighten, and never stayed put for long. My make up was as usual, pretty heavy. I couldn’t not wear it. My foundation was light, as my skin was pretty fair, though the mascara and eyeliner I thought brought out the greenness in my eyes, and so was layered on until I was happy.
As usual, most of the regulars where there, including Madeleine, who had became a sort of friend to me. She could speak English only because her father was from there originally, and off that, she had been a sort of tag along with me. We had hardly anything in common; she was shy and polite, whereas I was totally the opposite. Nevertheless, she was nice, not very chatty, but I could easily like her. She wondered over to me as I was nibbling on a piece of shortcake, her short dark hair and pixie features standing out. She smiled at me, and took a seat on the empty counter seat as the others wondered round aimlessly.
‘Bonsoir.’ She says quietly.
‘Alright, Maddy?’ I hand her a muffin and she shoots me a look of gratitude. ‘You know there’s a new guy in town.’
Her blue eyes widen. This was big news to us small town folk. ‘Seriously? Whats he like?’
‘Nice. A little…moody.’
‘Where’s he from?’
‘America. Cigarette?’ I pull out my packet, to which she shakes her head at. I light up, thinking about his face. ‘I met him yesterday. He didn’t like my smoking.’
‘Who does?’
After an hour or so, we decide to leave the stand to my Nana. The stalls are full of dead animals and vegetables and shit, people buying ready for their Sunday meal. We cut across the village square, over the fence down the alleyway between the library and grocers, carefully inching our way down the mud hill. When we get to the bottom, which is a surprisingly long way down, comes a huge green field. Its supposed to belong to the farmer, but no one’s seen him in ten years. Rumour had it he was shacked up with one of the cows…ew.
The field is home to an all manner of trees, plants, animals, and a lake if you go deep enough into the forest. Madeleine and I come out here a lot if it’s not raining, and If we ever want to flunk school. We’ve never seen anyone else up here.
Once we get to our tree, which is a large oak that’s hollowed out in the middle, we climb up onto the first branch and get in. We’ve managed to make a sort of cover to the entry of the tree with moss and bits of twig and stuff, so not a soul can get in. Inside, there are blankets, candles and matches, a portable stereo and CDs. To top it off, a couple of bottles of wine and a few beers we’d managed to scavenge out of Maddy’s parents’ liquor cabinet. I also had plenty cigarettes. It was completely waterproof, too, so we could come here even in the eternal rain. The hum of the market is almost intelligible, and will become even more so with a few glugs of wine in me.
We pass the bottle back and forth, taking dregs on cigarettes, one after the other, until both our heads feel ready to roll off. I feel like a little nap, when I start to hear something.
It starts as a little rustle outside. I shrug it off to be a badger or something at first, but then the sound gets louder. Almost like a dragging noise. Madeleine hears it too, and looks horrified. Looking out our peekinghole, I see the cause to be afraid; there’s a body, a body laying in arms, covered in blood. When I look to see whose doing the dragging, I gulp. Hard. It was Daniel. He has a sly grin spread from one corner to the other. He’s holding a gun in one hand, and I duck down into the tree, telling Maddy not to make a sound. Three seconds later, the gun sounds twice, and I have to slap my hand across my mouth to stop myself from screaming. My head is woozy, my throat feels like carpet and Maddy looks like she’s about to wet herself. My nails dig into the blankets beneath me, hurting my nails.
After what seems like years, I peak once more through the gap in the bark. There’s no Daniel, just a body, a very bloody body, lying helpless against a tree. I want to stay put forever, though I know we’ll have to move before the body is found. If it ever is found.
‘Oh my god, Isla! Oh God, oh god, oh god! We have to move, tell someone! Get out of here, and then…tell… someone. Fucking hell. What just happened?’
I calm my breathing, placing my hands on her shoulders, looking her deep in the eyes. ‘No, Maddy, we can’t tell anyone. We have no evidence as to who it was, and if we tell, we could be next. Just shut up for now, ok?’
She gapes at me. ‘Are you crazy, or just drunk? We can’t not tell someone we just witnessed a murder! Isla!’
‘Listen, we didn’t witness it. We heard a gun shot.’
‘TWO gun shots. And you looked, you must have saw something? Someone?’
I sit still, holding my breath in my fault. My head spins round and round. I feel so sick. ‘No, I didn’t. I didn’t see anyone. Just the…body.’ I gulp.
‘But Isla, ser-’
‘Maddy, we have to get out of here! We can talk other shit later, but for now, can we just go?’ My words jumble out in a mixture of nervous discomfort and intoxication.
She nods, giving me a boost up through the gap filled with moss. I then reach down and pull her out, she looking like the dead once in the light of midday. Neither of us take a second glance at the heap on the floor, instead, running literally for our lives through the trees, holding tightly onto each others hands, silently crying. We make it to the fence in record time, not taking a second for breath. Over we climb, scratching hands and legs on the wire, not noticing the thump of bones as we hit the concrete of the floor in the alleyway. We run across the town square, through the busying crowds of the market and over to my Nana. Madeleine cuts across a few more streets to go home, giving me a sorry glance as she runs. I don’t care.
Once behind my stall, I don’t have time to see who my Nana was talking to until I catch my breath and my head stops spinning.
Daniel. She’s on her feet, laughing and giggling whilst Daniel natters away in careless abandon. He doesn’t even notice me. I scream, loud, falling to the floor and clinging onto my head. Everyone turns and looks, and I feel my mother come over to me, trying to pull my face toward her.
‘Isla? What’s wrong? Why are you…oh, ok. You’re drunk. Again. Come on, stupid girl. Get up.’ She tugs on my arm, pulling me from the ground, an angry expression on her face.
I conjure up strength, not meeting Daniel’s inquisitive stare. ‘No, mum, I’m not drunk. A…bird flew past me really fast and made me jump. Really, I’m fine.’
She raises an eyebrow, not convinced. ‘Then why do I smell it all over you?’
‘Because Maddy and I went over to Monsieur Conneteirre’s wine stand and had a try of his new stuff. Really, we did. I’m not drunk.’
She let go of my arm, and I slumped in Nana’s chair, closing my eyes and catching my breath in the cool gust of wind that passed.
‘Can I have one of these, please? They’re my favourite.’ I hear a familiar voice call out to me. I open my eyes and see him standing a few feet away. He’s holding a crystallised cream puff in his hand, wearing a blue flannel shirt and black jeans, not what he was wearing whilst busy murdering. Huh. Funny that. I look into his blue eyes and see his expression is totally innocent. What an asshole.
‘Yeah. It’s one euro, please.’ I mutter.
He hands out the coin to me, taking a bite of the cream puff. Just to piss him off, I pull a cigarette and light up, blowing smoke at him, which earns me a frown. ‘Please don’t do that, Isla.’
‘Please get away from the stand then. We have customers.’
He moves to one side so I can serve the next lady, who gives me a scurrilous look because of my cigarette. Who cared what she thought, she didn’t have a murderer looking dead at her.
‘So do you feel ok now? Too much booze, huh?’ He says, wiping cream from his lips.
‘I told everyone, it was a fucking bird.’
‘Language, kiddo.’ He takes the cigarette out of my mouth and throws it to the floor, which I silently flip him off for. I wish he would just leave. ‘I don’t remember seeing a bird. I was standing ten feet away.’
I snarl at him, turning away. Where the hell was Nana? ‘Well it was.’
‘You shouldn’t lie to your mom.’
‘Why are you even here? You’ve got your cake, now go… I don’t know. Go away.’
He smirks at me, tilting his head forward and running a hand through his long dark tresses that flicked in his eyes.
‘Would you get your germs away from the cake already?’ I say, swatting him back, accidentally touching his chest. You could really see the broad, toned muscled underneath that shirt. Too bad they belonged to a psycho
He laughs at me, putting his hands up and walking away. I don’t smile at him, don’t hold his gaze.
I can’t. I couldn’t… could I?