K A D E N

My new space had two rooms. One was accounted for by myself and my mattress. The other was empty, up until I had populated it with pots of paint on top a sheet I'd thrown over the floorboards.

I unlocked that very room and stood in the middle of it, with my hands in my pockets. Three of the four walls were painted a cream colour and the last one would have been the same if not for me. I crouched down to where I had left off from last time and picked up a paintbrush.

There were a series of black lines across the wall. One for each day I'd been in town. I was counting but I didn't know what for. As my hands moved across the wall a thought passed through my head to what my landlord would say if he saw this. This wasn't exactly something I was permitted to do but my actions were unexplainable even to me.

A noise from downstairs made me hastily drop my brush and stand up. I dug into my pockets for the key but it wasn't there so I quickly dropped onto all fours. I had to squint since my eyesight was really starting to let me down of late and patted the wooden floor until I felt something cool near one of the paint pots. Once I had the key in my hand I left the room, making sure to lock it behind me.

Warily I crept down the stairs then realised how ridiculous I was being. "This is my house." I muttered to myself.

Downstairs, I saw that the front door was open. Wide open. I stepped closer to inspect it when I felt a hand clamp over my shoulder. Without thinking, I spun around, twisting the arm connected to the hand in the process. Except then I saw who it belonged to.

"Crap, sorry." I let go, much to my dad's relief.

He rubbed his arm and I threw him another apologetic look. "Didn't mean to scare you, son."

"You just caught me off guard." I said, rubbing my hands on my jeans to get rid of any leftover paint.

"You might want to get a lock for that door." He gestured behind me.

"Will do." I closed it when a thought occurred to me. "Are you checking up on me?"

"Just in the neighbourhood." He brushed off. "Looks like you've got everything sorted here though." He ventured further into the house, his voice fading the more he went. I followed him as every small detail went under his scrutiny and suddenly I felt self conscious.

Upstairs he stopped by the door I'd locked, trying to open it and then giving me a raise of his brows. "Still waiting for the key." I reassured, burying my hand deeper into my pocket and closing around the object in question.

"If you need anything, don't be shy to ask." He reminded me once the tour had ended and we were in the kitchen where he took a slice of leftover pizza from yesterday.

"Thanks, dad." I joined him in finishing off the rest of the box. We didn't talk much as we ate. It had always been like this between the two of us. Granted my mom had tried to make us go on one of those father, son bonding trips in the past but at the end of them, we'd arrive home with takeout in our stomachs. She'd given up trying in the end but that didn't mean my dad and I weren't close. We were just fine the way we were.

"There was another reason I stopped by today." He said after a long pause, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"What is it?" I opened a can of soda and poured some into a glass for him.

"Your mom's and my anniversary is coming up soon and I was thinking of taking her away for it. It's been so long since she's just relaxed without worrying so I'd thought a holiday would help with that. But I want to go through it with you first."

"Where do you plan to go?"

"Greece." He said with a smile. "You know how she's always going on about how she's wanted to visit."

"That's great, dad. She'll love it."

"So you're okay with it?"

"Course I am." I leaned back and crossed my hands over my chest. "You need a holiday just as much as mom does." I carried on when he looked like he was going to interrupt. "And you don't need to worry about me, I'll be fine."

"I know you will." He smiled sadly. "I want to thank you for being so mature about coming back. It wasn't easy. For any of us."

I nodded, failing to get out any words. The air had shifted as soon as he'd brought up the topic and he seemed to notice that too. Clearing his throat, he reached into his back pocket for his wallet. "Dad." I said as he extended a hand with a wad of bills.

"As much as I share your love of pizza, you need proper food. Don't spend it all on junk." I was about to protest that he was wrong and actually pizza contained many ingredients that were classified as 'proper food', when he cut me off. "Oh, and your mom said she'd drop by this week so I'm warning you beforehand."

"Right, thanks." I chuckled, receiving his subtle message to tidy up.

He got up and I walked him out. I stood in the doorway as he got into his car, looked over his shoulder and said, "Take care of yourself, Kaden."

-

That afternoon I decided to take my father's advice and buy some proper food. Even I had to admit that eating pizza for the past three days was getting tiring and I wouldn't want to live off it for the rest of my life. Then there was also how I couldn't cook to save a life other than the odd bowl of noodles, so the first thing I did when I entered the supermarket was head off to the section that held the microwavable foods. It was also there that I spotted a familiar blonde head.

"I never pegged you for a grocery shopper." Elsa smiled, taking in my basket which was brimming with instant noodles packets and about to be topped with dozens of microwave dinners.

"That's because I'm not." I said truthfully.

"Need some help?"

I looked at her basket which had way too many green items. "No."

"Suit yourself." She shrugged and continued to browse through what was on the shelves.

It seemed like an age but really it only lasted a minute. I was in the process off picking up my fifth microwave meal when I caved. "Fine."

Elsa's grin was big enough to blind me as she took hold of my arm and dragged me to another aisle. "First meal of the day, breakfast."

"I usually skip that."

"Because you don't realise how important it is." She placed a loaf of bread into my basket along with a carton of milk. It went on like that. I watched as she put more and more items in the basket, occasionally asking me if I wanted something because, you know, I was going to consume it all.

"Next, it's fruit." She said, making me practically drag the basket since it was so full. I hadn't planned on buying these many things.

"I got it." I hoarded off Elsa as she came at me, arms full of different fruits and instead picked up a bag of green apples. "There. Done."

She frowned. "That's not enough for your five a day."

"An apple a day keeps the doctor away." I reminded her.

"Fair enough." She laughed as she piled oranges into a basket of her own. When she saw my peculiar gaze on the items she was picking out she shrugged, "I like oranges."

"Guess you'll just have a lot of slug repellent."

"What?"

"The peel. Of the orange. It can be used to hoard off slugs."

"That's gross."

"It's really handy actually. My mom used to do it."

"Poor slugs."

I agreed with her and we went to pay for our stuff. Once we were done, she followed me out to where I'd parked my car. Unlike me with dozens of bags in my hands, she only had one and helped me get it all into the boot.

"Who's the lucky girl?" She asked as I gently placed a bouquet of lilies on top of everything which I'd swiped off the shelves just before we left.

"What makes you think it's a girl?"

"I don't know any guys that like lilies." She justified.

I racked my brain for someone but came up empty handed. "Me neither." A pause and then. "They're for someone."

"Does this someone have a name?"

I shot Elsa a look that said nice try and she smiled sheepishly. "You done for today?" She asked instead.

"Nah, I've still got a few things left to do."

"Well, I guess I'll see around."

"Need a ride?"

She shook her head. "I don't live too far from here."

"Thanks." I said. "For helping me with the shopping."

"It's nothing." She opened her bag and rummaged inside it for a second before taking something out and tossing it towards me. "I don't believe the saying. Apples alone can't keep the doctor away."

I looked down at the orange in my palm with a smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

-

The cemetery was closed by the time I finally made my way to the place. Granted, I had plenty of time beforehand had I not stopped every five minutes debating on whether or not I was ready to go back. Seeing the locked iron gate, I took that as a sign that I wasn't ready and turned on my heel. Then I saw the lilies still gripped tightly in my fist and turned back around.

Tucking the flowers into my waistband, I wiped my hands on my on my jeans and hauled myself up the wall beside the iron gate which was easier said than done. Gathering all of my strength I somehow managed to climb over in the end, landing on a mossy patch of grass on the other side with a thump. The sound was too loud. Abnormal and wrong in a place so restful.

Using the flashlight from my phone, I shone it around the place, not realising how late I'd left things until now, when all I could see were dark shapes and shadows. At first, I was a little disoriented, taking multiple wrong turns before I found what I was looking for.

The gravestone had a small chip in the corner, making it seem like it had been there a lot longer then it really was. But almost three years was a long time. I didn't know what it was that had finally persuaded me to come visit this place. Perhaps it was the talk with my dad this morning or Phoenix uncovering the truth that compelled me to buy the flowers and now place them on my sister's grave. Maybe it was something else. I knew I'd have had to come here eventually. I just didn't know when.

Now that I was here, I was unsure of what to do. I dug my hands deeper into my pockets as I read the inscription over and over again till the words began to blur together.

JANE ROSE MORDECAI
1997 - 2015
beloved daughter, sister and friend

Besides that, there was nothing else. But I knew if her death hadn't been so untimely then she would've wanted her favourite quote or something meaningful to be written on her gravestone. I guess I should have said something on the matter but at the time I was too much in shock. Standing here after so long seemed surreal that I feared I would go into shock.

I knew from films that people would talk to their deceased so that's what I decided to do. Even though I thought it was dumb.

"I'm terrible at this." I muttered. "I never was good with words. But you already know that." I paused, only to be met with silence and the occasional background noise of critters in the bushes reminding me that I was the only person here. Living, anyway.

"So, mom and dad are finally going on vacation. I think it'll be good for them. Away from me and stressing all the time. Who knows, we might move to Greece next." I rubbed a hand across my face, frustrated at how none of what I said seemed to come out right.

Inhaling sharply, I decided to give it one more try. "I wish--" but I never got further than that because suddenly the words got stuck in my throat, like a fist closing around my trachea, I found it difficult to get air into my lungs. There was no breeze, the air completely still and making it all the more difficult to regain my composure.

I rubbed my eyes, and when my hand pulled way I was met with a half blurry world. My contact had fallen out. It took a couple more minutes till I breathed out again in a prolonged sigh. This clearly wasn't working and so with one last glance back at where my sister lay, I turned away. I went back the way I came, over the wall, and just as I planted both feet onto the concrete I felt myself being thrust against the brick wall with immense force, making the breath knock out of me in an instant.

It was like time had slowed down. Dark spots began to dance in front of my vision, my shoulder throbbing from where it had hit the wall. A large figure stood over me, causing me to only see shadows and that's when the dread settled into my gut.

I smelt the pot on my assailant's breath before I made out his features. His hands came down to fist my collar tightly and force me to my feet. I then caught a glimpse of his angry expression, making my situation seem all the more helpless. He stood incredibly close and that's when I felt the sharpness of the object against my throat.

"You were following me." I said through my teeth.

"Give me some credit. I let you do whatever you had to in there." I felt the pressure from Dante's hand increase. "Right, we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"Looks like you're already doing it the hard way." That was a mistake on my part because I felt the blade press down on my throat, making my breath hitch in anticipation.

"I wouldn't push me if I were you." He ground out. "Tell me exactly what you told the detective."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me." His eyes narrowed into slits as his fist clenched my collar tighter and his arm barred across my chest. But I wasn't completely trapped. Not yet, anyway. "You know what happens when you disobey me."

His words were like a switch, making something click inside of me. My knee automatically came up to connect with his groin. Dante let out a spluttered groan and doubled over, giving me enough time to shake out of his grasp. My heart beat wildly as I tried to get out of there. I was almost successful in doing so had it not been for his leg shooting out at the last minute and instead of sighing in relief, I had a mouth full of gravel.

I felt a pressure on my back, preventing me from getting up and seconds later I heard the sound of metal slicing through the air. The knife Dante had been holding against my throat, not a second ago was now dug into the concrete, millimetres from my nose. "Now we're doing it the hard way." He said out of breath.

I grit my teeth and began to raise my head only for it to be shoved back to the ground by his fist. "I didn't tell him anything." I bit out.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" He questioned, though with less conviction in his tone.

"You don't." I laughed humourlessly and that's when the knife disappeared from my vision and I felt a coolness on my neck. Sometimes my mouth had a mind of its own.

"Now's not the time to be playing games, Kaden."

I had the strong urge to point out that that was exactly what he was doing but bit my tongue against the remark. "The Detective asked about some kid who'd OD'ed and I said I didn't know anything about it."

"And." He prodded.

I sighed. "And he asked if I had any information about you but I said no." I would have glared at him but from my position, I doubted it would have any effect. He didn't say anything for a while so I added, "Do you think I'd want to put myself through all that again?"

Another couple of minutes passed until finally the pressure was removed from my back. I tentatively got back up onto my feet, part of me expected to be kicked back down but it never happened. Dante played with the knife in his hands which had a smudge of blood on the blade, and smirked. "So, what are you doing out in the cemetery so late?"

"None of your business." I growled.

"Touché."

I ignored him, turning on my heel but I didn't get far until I heard his voice again. "You better have been telling me the truth, Kaden. Or there'll be deadly consequences."

His words made me wince but I kept on walking. Trying to block out his mocking laugh and the night's events.