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Great Writing - Home > Extended > Graffiti: Chapter VI
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Extended Work
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| Graffiti: Chapter VI | |
| By Kezzi | ||
| 24 August 2008 | ||
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Tabitha Walker is an outsider, shunned by the world after her life is
turned around by mysterious circumstances. But an eerie message on her
desk at school and a seductive smile change everything as the world of
the supernatural reveals itself...
-VI-
Visitors Tabby’s eyes had snapped shut to block out the impact as her head almost smacked straight into the vile, sodden floorboards; but now they flew wide open as a hard boot caught her leg. A strangled yell preceded all the air being knocked out of her lungs as someone fell heavily onto her back, making the belt buckle around her waist bite painfully into her stomach. “Oww!” she cried in agony, struggling to turn over onto her back – and found her face just centimetres from Dean’s. His expression reminded her of a startled rabbit as he quickly clambered off her pounding chest, the blood in his usually pale face visibly boiling. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled down at her, brushing splinters of rotten wood angrily from his clothing. His fleeting vulnerability had been replaced rapidly by a searing look of hatred - and finally, looking up at him towering over her with such scorn, she felt herself snap. “Why don’t you just shut the hell up?” she shouted back, enraged pressure stabbing into her temples. “I’ve done nothing wrong and you always blame me! What the hell is your problem?” He opened his mouth to retaliate but Tabby was determined to take control over him, just for once. “I just almost got killed, and you don’t seem to give a damn about how scared I was!” She was looking at Andy now, cheeks burning with indignation. “This was my first time doing it…you used me as some kind of labrat…” her entire body was shuddering with rage and she could hardly make the words form in her throat. Choking back the anger erupting inside her stomach, her tone grew dangerously quiet. “I know you probably think I was hamming it up; but trust me, I know how it feels when something - or someone - tries to kill you.” The others were suddenly very still. “…Someone tried to kill you, Tabby?” Ollie asked after a while, stepping forward to kneel beside her as she lay shaking on the filthy floor, the dampness seeping horribly through her shirt. Dean and Andy were watching her expectantly; the latter looked concerned, whereas Dean just seemed uncomfortable. She looked away, blinking hard. Now I’ve really gone and put my foot in it… “You’ve put your foot in it,” Andy unexpectedly broke the uneasy silence, and her heart skipped a beat. Did…did he just read my mind? “Ex-excuse me?” She stared at him, wide eyes glistening in surprise. He motioned towards the floor. “Your foot - it went through.” “Oh…” Tabby looked down to see that the bottom of her left leg was, indeed, hidden beneath ground level. She gingerly pulled it out, bits of wet timber sticking to her jeans. The change of topic, although uncomfortable, was welcome; at least, the others seemed to take the hint that she didn’t want to talk about her life before Blackthorn. Andy moved towards her and she quickly clambered to her feet, looking up at him defiantly. “Thanks for finally talking to me.” He sighed. “Tabby, I can explain. Just let me walk you home, at least.” She almost gave in and took up this offer; why did he have to be so gorgeous? But she couldn’t…not now… “I can find my own way, thanks,” she said quietly. Turning her back on him and still feeling the ghosts of his lips on hers, she ducked out of the creaking doorway and left the forgotten house behind. Finally alone with her own thoughts, the tears could at last spill over and fall freely down onto the sunny path at her feet.
*
It was the doorbell that roused Tabby from her sleep the next morning; the annoying, electronic notes ringing through her dream as it was washed away behind her closed eyelids by the pale light filtering through her curtains. Groaning, she turned over and snuggled back down under the warm duvet. Mum can get that… She was just about to drift back off, tucked up snugly in the soft material, when it rang again. “Muum,” she called wearily to the quiet house, not budging from her comfortable position. There was no answer. Sighing and stretching reluctantly, Tabby rolled onto her side and surveyed the time with half-open eyes. With a jolt she realised she’d slept in late; her mother had left for work hours ago. Probably just a door-to-door salesman, anyway, she thought, letting her tired head fall back onto her pillow with a flump. She wasn’t ready to get up yet; but as it rang for a third time, she decided she couldn’t take it any more. Easing herself out of bed, she grabbed her panda-patterned dressing gown and shuffled out of the door. Glancing blearily in the mirror as she left, she realised what a mess she looked; her hair was an exploding bird’s nest and there were huge dark smudges around her eyes, with faint tear-trails down her cheeks from the night before. She shrugged at her pale reflection and continued downstairs. Who cares; it’s only a salesman. But it was Andy that peered in at her through the crack as she inched the door open. “Hey…” Tabby gave a strangled squeak and shut the door again quickly. Her cheeks burned as she called “I’ll be out in a sec,” shakily through the letterbox, and hastened upstairs. “Oh, merde,” she muttered to herself, quickly trying to tame her knotted beehive and erase the black mess. I can’t believe he saw me like this… Dragging a fresh shirt over her head and panting slightly, she rushed back downstairs again and opened the door. Andy was still standing on the path, looking awkward, and she gave him a small apologetic smile. “Sorry about that, I wasn’t ready for any visitors.” He grinned. “Did I come at a bad time?” “No, not at all,” Tabby looked down at her feet. Stop smiling at me like that, you cruel boy… “Would you like…do you…you can come in, if you want,” she stammered shyly to the floor. “Thanks.” He ducked in through the doorway and Tabby shut it behind him. He was just standing there looking at her, and she suddenly found it impossible to meet his gaze; instead, she continued to stare downwards, fidgeting. Is this how he felt yesterday? “Umm…do you want a drink? We’ve got Ribena.” “No, thanks,” he said politely. “Do you think we could just sit down for a sec?” Tabby swallowed nervously. This sounded a bit formal. “Sure, the lounge is right through here…” She led the way through into the drab living room, quickly kicking some of her haphazardly-strewn old toys out of sight. Everything about this room made her embarrassed to show Andy into it; the beige walls and dirty carpet, the boring old furniture and sagging sofas. She quickly rearranged the cushions to make it feel more comfortable for Andy as he sat down. Not quite sure what to do, she sank into the brown, moth-eaten armchair opposite, waiting for him to talk. He coughed. “Um…nice place you got here,” he said, to which Tabby snorted derisively. “Don’t make me laugh,” she said. “This place is only just a step up from that house we went to yesterday.” “Why don’t you decorate it?” Tabby felt the colour rising in her cheeks as she picked at the ragged material on the seat. “We…we don’t actually own it,” she mumbled. “We’re renting until we have enough money.” “Oh…sorry.” The silence that followed was stifling. Tabby could hear the kitchen wall-clock ticking away the seconds across the hall as she watched the armchair thread unravel in her fingers. Out of the corner of her vision she could see Andy’s face; and she shifted uncomfortably. He just kept looking at her. She wasn’t really sure how she felt about him being there. Of course, her heart was pounding with the thrill of being alone with him in the house, his slightly unbuttoned shirt exposing a tantalising view of his tanned chest. Yet she was supposed to be angry at him; he had kissed her and then ignored her all day, failing to keep her safe during the hunt and not showing any sympathy afterwards. As this thought crossed her mind, however, she felt selfish. Quit expecting his love, Tabby, she scolded herself. You’re just like Chelsea… Andy coughed and she looked up, all feelings of disappointment racing from her mind as his blue gaze washed over her, sitting there in the ragged armchair. Who was she trying to kid? Just like Chelsea and all those other girls, she was infatuated. It was clear to her now that Andy’s distance from her the previous day was due to embarrassment; the same reason she was now finding it extremely difficult to look him directly in the eye. But surely that must mean…he likes me back? Her pulse began to race; lips dry, stomach twisting as he opened his mouth. “Tabby…there’s something I need to tell you.” Barely able to breathe, she found herself completely tongue-tied. Forcing herself to hold eye contact, she nodded slowly. “That kiss…it shouldn’t have happened.” Tabby felt something rip in her chest. “W-what do you mean?” It was Andy’s turn to avoid her gaze now. “It…it wasn’t right.” Seeming to sense Tabby go stiff, he elaborated quickly. “What I mean is…we weren’t thinking properly. I didn’t mean it to happen, and I’m sorry.” Tabby forced herself out of shocked autopilot. She was beginning to see what he meant, and determined not to lose her temper with him again. “So…you mean you’d rather have kisses that are fully intentional?” “I guess you could say that; it was probably a terrible kiss, anyway. I’ve never actually kissed a girl before.” He blushed, smiling nervously. Tabby grinned back in slight shock, keeping to herself the fact that it had been the most fantastic kiss of her life, and her immense surprise that such a gorgeous specimen had not experienced lip contact before. She understood, though; he was obviously annoyed at himself for not having a perfect first kiss with her. So he does like me… “I’m sorry for breaking your trust, too,” he said, standing up and treading over to her. “I should have looked after you; instead I was selfish. It’s ironic, really; while preoccupied with one mistake, I went and made an even worse one.” He laughed apologetically. “I really am sorry, Tabbs. I hope you can forgive me.” “Of course I can,” she assured him, feeling the tear in her heart begin to mend itself. “Thank you.” He grinned gratefully, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her up off the sagging chair. “I’m gonna make it my duty to look after you properly from now on, okay?” he said, and pulled her into a warm, comforting hug. Tabby closed her eyes against his shirt and breathed in his soft seaside scent, arms wrapped around his lean, muscular body. The beat of his heart was like the tide lapping against the shore, and she knew she’d stay there forever with him if she could. “I meant to ask…” he murmured into her hair after a while, “what you said yesterday about knowing how it feels when someone tries to kill you…” Tabby knew what was coming and pulled away, looking down. “Sorry, it’s just…I don’t like to talk about it,” she explained. “I’ve never told anyone, and I don’t think I’m ready to - at least not yet.” Andy nodded in understanding and hugged her again. “Don’t worry – just remember, whenever you feel ready to let it out, I’ll always be there to listen.” Tabby was about to mumble back her thanks from the folds in his shirt, but something against her lower stomach suddenly began to vibrate. Andy leapt back in surprise and quickly fumbled around in his trousers, bringing a mobile phone out of his pocket. He mouthed ‘sorry’ at a giggling Tabby as he answered the call. “Hello? …Oh, hey! …At Tabby’s, you? …Ohh…sorry, I’ll get back as soon as I can. …What? …Are you sure it’s all gone? …Okay, I’ll get some more on the way. …Yep, I know which type. Okay, bye …yes, you too.” The call ended with a beep and Andy thrust the phone back into his pocket, smiling apologetically at Tabby and blushing slightly. “Sorry, that was a call from home…I have to get going.” “Oh, okay.” Tabby gave a small disappointed sigh as she led him to the door, wishing he could stay longer. As Andy crossed over the doormat, he turned back to her. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” “Sure thing,” she smiled, closing the door and leaving herself trapped alone in the house once more. Everything was suddenly so quiet. It was just her and the ticking clock, the dripping tap and a tiny bird on the windowsill outside. She watched its jerky yet delicate movements as it chirped, feathers ruffled in the slight breeze that was dancing down the street. This was closely pursued by a dark cloud, its shadow creeping over the estate in chase of the retreating sunshine. Out of the window, Tabby could see flowers wilting in their beds as the darkness swept over them, and as it rolled over her house a thin shiver ran down the length of her spine. Suddenly, the bird stopped singing. Its tiny eyes wide, it launched itself from the windowsill and raced away into the blackening sky, a large raindrop splattering down upon the empty space it left. And then the doorbell rang again. Something in Tabby’s jolted conscience told her it definitely wasn’t Andy; or an innocent salesman, for that matter. She felt a strange fear take hold of her body as her hand reached towards the door of its own accord, low thunder outside tearing through the atmosphere. Lightning crackled up her arm as she turned the handle, slowly opening the door to reveal a dark figure on the doorstep. The rain was now pouring in sheets, the buildings opposite indistinguishable through the wet mass. The figure stood unmoving on the front porch, shivering and unrecognisable. Tabby suddenly felt sorry for it; it was freezing out there, becoming drenched in the clouds’ flood as the sky flashed, electricity pumping through the very air surrounding it. Unknowingly, she stood aside to admit it entrance. But when it stepped forwards and lowered its hood, her blood froze.
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