Marmalade Cherry

A Chapter by Julie Fran

Chapter 1

January 11 -

A single store front glowed amongst the dying light, sitting singled out and bear hugged by two boarded yellow taped stores that used to be. The street was empty, it’s single light deepening the abyss of broken glass windows. The yellows and greens of paint peeling off like strings of ribbon run over the blade of scissors. They stumbled out from the garbage alley, white shirts and businessmen suits rumpled. The first man was sloshing his beer around, his steps unmeasured and unsure as he placed his foot one place and then moved it quickly to balance himself once again. His jacket hooked by his fingers was dragged along the wet ground, and he turned to glance behind him as the second emerged from the shadows just as crude as the other.

This men's jacket laid thrown over his shoulder, without a beer in hand the man watched his friend. His face was lined with red lips, decorated like freckles upon his face his belt was tossed on without care. His foot landed in a puddle, confusion written on his face as he lifted his soaked sock clad foot from the waters of a puddle left scattered on the road from the afternoon rains.

His dilated gaze went amiss underneath his eyelid as he blinked and his face scrunched up as he tried to remember if he had even had a shoe or not today. A sudden cough startled him from his daze. The man with the beer stumbled to a halt his chest heaving he turned to look at the kissed freckled man. He gulped pulling some conscious thought from his hazed mind. “ You heard that right, conan? “ He asked. His friend Conan nodded placing his wet socked foot back down in a wet slosh. A ragged burnt out cough erupted from the slumbers of the street. And in there drunk induced state, they thought someone was laughing at them. “ Come out here you-you good for nothing bag of bones.” He snarled, spit flying from his lips. Someone snickered or had that been the beer glass crashing to the road as his friend threw it . His friend had hurled it, sending it crashing and scattering it down the black paved road. Conan’s hand reached out to cover his eyes as a lamp post nearby flickered on, the fallen beer glass bits with it’s edges sparkling with solemn allure.

The street became bare before there glassy eyes, bare and silent. An almost too quiet to hear snort echoed and lapped between the standing buildings on either side. And as the street became bare Conan spotted him, a slumped figure against the side wall of a boarded store resting beside some rusted trash cans. He lurched forward, his drunken self slurring to each other side as he walked. The figure remained seated his face protected by the shadows that lingered. When Conan reached the slumped form , he reached shakily grappling onto what he believed to be a dark blue hoodie; bringing a face into the light. Smooth pale round cheeks appeared ghostly in the yellow lamp light. The teen in his hands didn’t stir. His orange hair masking his eyes and ending just above the tip of his nose. “You think that was funny don’tcha.” Conan shook him, spit flying onto the teens face as he hollard. “ Don’tcha you asswipe!” Conan swung, baring down his fist at the unmoving teen . He hit, smacking the boys face to the right. His lip had spilt; blood slipping between the crease of his bottom lip .

Conan, smirked pulling back to make another blow feeling high as his friend laughed by his side all the while unaware of the brown eye peering from below. He struck again his fist aiming towards the forming bruise blooming on the teens pale skin. His fist was caught with the slap of a pale hand catching his, like a baseball being caught by the pitchers glove. Conan’s voice caught in his throat, jarring his body he let go under the amount of strength twisting his arm. His knees smacked pavement and his arm risen above his head unable to go down. He curled his body down into itself; turning an odd angle. Conan groaned, hoarsely breathing. He looked up staring into the whites of his eyes. White, blood smeared teeth glowed. “Not a thing to be heard.” The teen whispered, giving a sharp tug a gut wrenching crack of bone breaking reverberated in his ears. Conan screamed, howling as shards with smooth edges broke through his hand, .

Climbing up his arm into the shoulder blade. Erupting, splintering through his skin. The teen moved to lean in and whispered softly, “Not even a mouse.” The shards ate away at him, creeping closer to his heart each passing second as Conan screams died off. The teen removed his hand from the pinned mess’

and stood electing a startled cry. The drunk’s friend had fallen freezing under his eyes, the smell of urine permeating his nostrils. “P~~Please, D-Don’t kill me.” The drunk’s hand creeped to his pants pocket, “ You want money?” The teen didn’t acknowledge him, the whites of his canines gleaming under the lamp light. “W-What d-do you want? I can get you any….. A pale hand shot out grabbing the drunks skull. “Silence.” He hissed. A shard embedded itself in the man's skull.

May 22 -

“There are Monsters in the world,” She had said.

“Whether they live under beds, closets or in the darkness of our minds.”

“Remember their among us, ready to snatch our hearts away.”

“Whatcha reading?” He jumped, startled . Her eyebrows rose, placing her chin neatly down upon his shoulder she glanced down at the book cover. “Whinhouse, huh?” His shoulders sagged beneath her as she moved gracefully away from the hand trying to swat at her. “Jesus, Al!” He cried, “ Don’t do that!” A rumbling of light filled laughter floated through the air pleasantly and he smiled. AL wrapped her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him to her side. A funny look enveloped on her face, her eyes gleaming with hidden mirth. With the edge of her knuckles she rubbed down upon his head electing a round of crys. “ NO! Let go you big Umph..” A tangle of movements and her arms were gone and the end of her elbow was digging into his chest. She smirked dancing away ; swinging her hands behind her head. “Come on Riku, Mom texted; it’s time for dinner.”

Rolling his eyes he closed the winhouse book and slid it back into place on the bookshelf. He trailed behind her as they walked past the standing isles of mahogany wooden bookshelves. Al nodded to the store clerk, as they left the warm and slightly musky bookstore. She held the door open for him, politely letting go as he cleared the doorway and skipped two by two down the steps. Falling in sync with Riku. The faint smell of flowers lingered in the evening air. She hummed softly shoving her hands in her pockets, before glancing over at her brother. He looked a lot like Mom she thought, picking out his arched eyebrows and softly arched nose. A swell of jealousy warmed her chest, she sighed turning her gaze to the pink clouds streamed across the sky. “Do..” She blinked turning to look at him. “ Do you think dad will be mad?’ He asked muttering beneath his breath. She glanced reflexively at his caramel coated hair, looking quickly away when she spotted the shaved sides of his head. She grimaced mourning the loss of his beautiful hair. “Don’t worry kiddo,” She laughed, cringing when it cracked. “ It won’t be you he’s mad at.” Al dug her hand in her pocket, retrieving a letter. She waved it in front of his eyes, smirking as they widened. “ You got in.” He asked breathlessly. Al nodded, grinning sheepishly at her brother. His eyes light up flashing between happiness and worry. She could see his hesitance, softly putting the letter safely in her pocket she grabbed his hand. She hummed swinging their hands between them, she smiled seeing the soft happiness return to his face. They’ll be alright she thought to herself, they had each other she reassured. Her steps slowed as they reached the door to their front step. They had each other. She grabbed the keys from her pocket. Right?

Their mother was there to greet them, already placing the dinner plates on the table and at the end already laid out was Father’s newspaper. The one he liked to read, the only one he did. Moms face alight with joy at the sight of us, she asked us how are day was and took glasses out for the milk she laid out on the table. We had just sat down, taking sips of our cold glasses of milk and retelling the story of our journey to the bookstore when we heard his car drive up into the driveway. Her good mood gone now as they sat in silence to await his entrance. Mom got up, pushing down her skirt front to smooth out one of the few creases to survive her ironing. She opened the door, letting him in.

Her eyes drifted from off the pristine uniform of the of the government her father wore like a flag. He’d burn it if it touched the floor, she was sure of it.

-The lions outside of your door,

The wolf is in your bed.-

I’m quitting cadet school. Al’s eyes burned into her fathers eyes, no the generals.

The lions claws are sharpened for war,

The wolfs teeth are red.

Her cheek burned, an angry red hand print decorated her cheek. Al pushed herself from off the carpet bringing with her the letter that had fallen from her hand.

And what a monstrous sight he makes,

Mocking man’s best friend.

Alister go, take your brother and get me some cherries. Mom pushed the money in my hands handing me a jacket as she rushed us out the door. My brother and me just stood listening to his thunderous voice outside. Her brother's eyes glanced, straying to the red hand print on her cheek. AL shook her head and smiled at him,” Everything will be alright,” she said. She took his hand quietly pulling him along down the street.

They had each other after all, they’d be alright.

Both the wolf and lion crave the same thing in the end.