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It was late as Stephie made her way over to Tasha's. Travelling the streets alone at night wasn't really the cleverest option in the world, but at least now Stephie knew that if she needed to, she could knock the blazes out of anyone who tried to grab her with her board and use it as a getaway vehicle. Skateboards were awesome.
She was reminded, as she turned the corner into Tasha's street, of the many times she's snuck out of her own house to visit Sophie in the middle of the night. The sence of dejavu made her look over her shoulder, almost expecting the neighbourhood to melt into the dingier one Sophie used to live in, and to see the tall, dark haired girl waiting for her in one of the driveways. Stephie shook the feeling off, she hadn't seen any sign of Sophie since Roosa had seen her parents. She'd even been round to the girls house and seen no sign of her family. So they had moved, although now Stephie very much doubted they'd gone all the way to Australia like Sophie had claimed in her last email, back in January.
But now wasn't the time for getting paranoid about ex-friends coming back to town. She had a creepy stalker to hunt down and a frightened, not-as-hard-as-she-claimed bitch to keep company. Stephie knocked on Tasha's door and waited to be let in.
Tasha was waiting on her bed, all the lights in her room switched on, and Nightwish emanating from her stereo. Not that having all the lights on made the room particularly bright. They were all covered with red or black cellophane, with the exception of one ridiculously expensive UV light. Christmases in her family were a wonderful thing, especially seeing as they were utterly devoid of anything relating to Christ.
Tonight, however, was nowhere near as wonderful. Nightwish was nowhere near enough to drown out the whispers at the back of her mind. They just wouldn't shut up, ever since the Tower. The goddamn Tower.
And the shadows. Every time one of them flickered, she tightened her white-knuckled grip on her knife. It was a ceremonial weapon of Cambodian origin with a twenty-centimetre blade, currently in its scabbard. Once drawn, it was the user's sacred obligation to draw blood with the knife before replacing it... even if it had to be one's own. Otherwise, a terrible curse would be brought down upon them.
Not that Tasha believed in such things. But she still wasn't going to draw the knife until she was about to make something bleed. Blood rituals were something she had respect for.
Which was more than she could say for herself right now, cowering on her bed, hugging her knees up beneath her chin. No doubt she was a sorry sight indeed, a scared little girl surrounded by knives, black candles, the odd sword, black banners with blood red inverted pentacles and goat's heads upon them, inverted crosses hanging on her walls, and skulls both plaster and real scattered about... Her little black pit of a room that had never seemed frightening to her until now. Now, she jumped at shadows, at every little creak and groan of the house, at every... whisper...
There was a knock at the door, and Tasha practically jumped out of her skin. She'd even half drawn her knife without realising it. Not all the way, though... relieved, she slid it back into its scabbard, and crawled across the bed to peer through the window.
It was just Slink.
Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, she quickly made her way downstairs, eyes straight forward in an attempt to not see the shadows out of the corners of her eyes. It barely helped.
"Slink," she said wearily as she pulled the door open. "Thank you so much for coming. I... I really appreciate it." She stood aside to let the other girl into the house.
"Wow, you look peachy." Stephie commented wrly as she entered the warm house. She looked at the dark rings around the other girls eyes that had nothing to do with make up. "You weren't kidding about the bad dreams, huh?"
"Waking nightmares," Tasha murmured. She stepped forward a little as if she were going to hug Slink, but then pulled back again. Was it out of genuine nervousness about getting too intimate with the girl... or was it that swirling shadow that had appeared by her shoulder at the last second? Who knows what it might have turned into...
"Can I get you anything?" she asked, remaining far more subdued than the last time Slink had been there. "We won't be disturbing anybody. Mother and Father could sleep through the return of Stalin." And god how I wish I could sleep through the return of fucking Avery.
"Coffee," Stephie suggested, wondering about the almost hug- the flash in Tasha's eyes as she looked over her Stephie's shoulder. "Or even Russian coffee, if you're up to it?"
Tasha's eyes lit up just slightly as she gave Slink a small smile. "Russian coffee it is."
She set about making the strongly alcoholic and caffeinated beverage, chattering on about nothing in particular. When the drinks were ready, she led them back up to the black pit that was her room, knives, pentacles and all. She sat down on her bed and motioned Slink to sit anywhere she liked, including right next to her. The closer the better she thought to herself, though where that thought had actually come from, she had no idea.
She was silent for a moment, before realising that she was probably coming across as a fairly poor hostess. "Sorry," she murmured, hiding her face behind her Russian coffee for a moment. "I'm being dreadfully boring. How are you?" Now those were three words that rarely came out of her mouth...
"Oh I don't know, I went job hunting but nothing jumped out at me." She looked at the black hole in her cup and took a sip. The Russian coffee hit her right between the back of her eyes and straight on into her blood stream after that. "Phwoar," she blinked, sitting down on the bed next to Tasha. "You never really get used to this stuff, it's almost as intense as your room."
Tasha gave a small chuckle, knocking back a good mouthful of her own. It burned in more ways than one, such a powerful sensation that for a moment, it drove out the swirling shadows. She winced, though, as the whispers only intensified, hissing at her. Always at the back of her mind, but as soon as she tried to distract herself, they reared up as if angered, and threatened far worse things than what she was dealing with now.
"Job hunting is a pain," she said, trying to keep up her end of the refreshingly normal conversation. "At least, that's what they tell me. I've never had one myself."
She found her eyes wandering over Slink's hands, her fingers, her legs. She was certainly an attractive girl... She forced her gaze back up to Slink's eyes. Wouldn't want to freak her out or anything...
"Yeah well," said Stephie, leaning back. "Gotta pay the bills somehow, what few of them there are, that is." She grinned, knowing how great a deal she'd struck when she'd moved into Deirdre's. "But a real job isn't something I've ever had, either. I never liked getting to places on time."
She was reminded, as she turned the corner into Tasha's street, of the many times she's snuck out of her own house to visit Sophie in the middle of the night. The sence of dejavu made her look over her shoulder, almost expecting the neighbourhood to melt into the dingier one Sophie used to live in, and to see the tall, dark haired girl waiting for her in one of the driveways. Stephie shook the feeling off, she hadn't seen any sign of Sophie since Roosa had seen her parents. She'd even been round to the girls house and seen no sign of her family. So they had moved, although now Stephie very much doubted they'd gone all the way to Australia like Sophie had claimed in her last email, back in January.
But now wasn't the time for getting paranoid about ex-friends coming back to town. She had a creepy stalker to hunt down and a frightened, not-as-hard-as-she-claimed bitch to keep company. Stephie knocked on Tasha's door and waited to be let in.
Tasha was waiting on her bed, all the lights in her room switched on, and Nightwish emanating from her stereo. Not that having all the lights on made the room particularly bright. They were all covered with red or black cellophane, with the exception of one ridiculously expensive UV light. Christmases in her family were a wonderful thing, especially seeing as they were utterly devoid of anything relating to Christ.
Tonight, however, was nowhere near as wonderful. Nightwish was nowhere near enough to drown out the whispers at the back of her mind. They just wouldn't shut up, ever since the Tower. The goddamn Tower.
And the shadows. Every time one of them flickered, she tightened her white-knuckled grip on her knife. It was a ceremonial weapon of Cambodian origin with a twenty-centimetre blade, currently in its scabbard. Once drawn, it was the user's sacred obligation to draw blood with the knife before replacing it... even if it had to be one's own. Otherwise, a terrible curse would be brought down upon them.
Not that Tasha believed in such things. But she still wasn't going to draw the knife until she was about to make something bleed. Blood rituals were something she had respect for.
Which was more than she could say for herself right now, cowering on her bed, hugging her knees up beneath her chin. No doubt she was a sorry sight indeed, a scared little girl surrounded by knives, black candles, the odd sword, black banners with blood red inverted pentacles and goat's heads upon them, inverted crosses hanging on her walls, and skulls both plaster and real scattered about... Her little black pit of a room that had never seemed frightening to her until now. Now, she jumped at shadows, at every little creak and groan of the house, at every... whisper...
There was a knock at the door, and Tasha practically jumped out of her skin. She'd even half drawn her knife without realising it. Not all the way, though... relieved, she slid it back into its scabbard, and crawled across the bed to peer through the window.
It was just Slink.
Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, she quickly made her way downstairs, eyes straight forward in an attempt to not see the shadows out of the corners of her eyes. It barely helped.
"Slink," she said wearily as she pulled the door open. "Thank you so much for coming. I... I really appreciate it." She stood aside to let the other girl into the house.
"Wow, you look peachy." Stephie commented wrly as she entered the warm house. She looked at the dark rings around the other girls eyes that had nothing to do with make up. "You weren't kidding about the bad dreams, huh?"
"Waking nightmares," Tasha murmured. She stepped forward a little as if she were going to hug Slink, but then pulled back again. Was it out of genuine nervousness about getting too intimate with the girl... or was it that swirling shadow that had appeared by her shoulder at the last second? Who knows what it might have turned into...
"Can I get you anything?" she asked, remaining far more subdued than the last time Slink had been there. "We won't be disturbing anybody. Mother and Father could sleep through the return of Stalin." And god how I wish I could sleep through the return of fucking Avery.
"Coffee," Stephie suggested, wondering about the almost hug- the flash in Tasha's eyes as she looked over her Stephie's shoulder. "Or even Russian coffee, if you're up to it?"
Tasha's eyes lit up just slightly as she gave Slink a small smile. "Russian coffee it is."
She set about making the strongly alcoholic and caffeinated beverage, chattering on about nothing in particular. When the drinks were ready, she led them back up to the black pit that was her room, knives, pentacles and all. She sat down on her bed and motioned Slink to sit anywhere she liked, including right next to her. The closer the better she thought to herself, though where that thought had actually come from, she had no idea.
She was silent for a moment, before realising that she was probably coming across as a fairly poor hostess. "Sorry," she murmured, hiding her face behind her Russian coffee for a moment. "I'm being dreadfully boring. How are you?" Now those were three words that rarely came out of her mouth...
"Oh I don't know, I went job hunting but nothing jumped out at me." She looked at the black hole in her cup and took a sip. The Russian coffee hit her right between the back of her eyes and straight on into her blood stream after that. "Phwoar," she blinked, sitting down on the bed next to Tasha. "You never really get used to this stuff, it's almost as intense as your room."
Tasha gave a small chuckle, knocking back a good mouthful of her own. It burned in more ways than one, such a powerful sensation that for a moment, it drove out the swirling shadows. She winced, though, as the whispers only intensified, hissing at her. Always at the back of her mind, but as soon as she tried to distract herself, they reared up as if angered, and threatened far worse things than what she was dealing with now.
"Job hunting is a pain," she said, trying to keep up her end of the refreshingly normal conversation. "At least, that's what they tell me. I've never had one myself."
She found her eyes wandering over Slink's hands, her fingers, her legs. She was certainly an attractive girl... She forced her gaze back up to Slink's eyes. Wouldn't want to freak her out or anything...
"Yeah well," said Stephie, leaning back. "Gotta pay the bills somehow, what few of them there are, that is." She grinned, knowing how great a deal she'd struck when she'd moved into Deirdre's. "But a real job isn't something I've ever had, either. I never liked getting to places on time."
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