{Blood~Sisters} -A Fantasy- *Scroll II- Here Today, Gone Tomorrow*

Scroll II-
Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

A tingly sensation faded slowly into pain as she placed the edge of the razor over another section of her tender skin. Bright crimson dripped from her arm onto the fluffy blue towel she’d placed on her lap. Hey, if she was going to bleed she could at least do so without getting shit all over her tripp pants, right?
She sat in her room behind her bed, just in the right spot so if her mother came in she wouldn’t be able to see her clearly. The new wounds shone against the dull scars that adorned the undersides of her arms. Rose had been doing this for several years. Time and time again the depressed teen had asked herself why, but could never quite answer herself. Most cutters did it because they had a horrible home life. Well, she could never use that excuse. Her home life was almost revoltingly perfect.
Rose Lewis lived in a flat on Hunter’s Glade Avenue in London, England. Her mum was young and beautiful and earned a good salary as a spokesperson for EnviroTech, a company that used environmentally safe products. They were the proud owners of a dog named Skip, a lively beagle with a scar across his stomach. Stupid fucking dog. No one knew how he had gotten it- he simply trotted into the flat one night with blood dripping from his abdomen. In a panic they rushed him to the vet where he spent a good hour getting 30 stitches. The vet said he’d never seen anything like it and left them even more confused than before.
Anyway, Julianna Lewis was the epitome of the perfect mother. She was kind and understanding but could be firm when she needed to. If only the teachers knew that Rose was such a daredevil they could never blame Julianna for lack of a good reason or sufficient evidence.
She contemplated this as she numbly watched a dark stain in the towel grow steadily larger. Why was she always so angry at her mum, then? There was no reason for it at all. Perhaps it was just typical teen rebelliousness but she had always felt it was more than that. One time after supper they had sat watching the telly with their tea when for no reason Julianna started talking about her dad. Without knowing why Rose slammed her mug down and stormed out of the room. She couldn’t look her mother in the eye for days.
So many things about herself were nonsense. Like how her ears were slowly but surely growing points at the end. Rose had deliberately started to grow her hair out and refused to take her hats off at school- earning her a three day suspension when she attacked a teacher for trying to take it off. Like she’d give the preps another reason to think she was a fucking freak. That was the first and only trouble she’d gotten in, until earlier today.
Ever since Secondary school Rose had been the type to live on the edge. Although she never stooped to smoking she was an enthusiastic drinker and particularly enjoyed Guinness and Irish whiskey. Around the ‘unmentionable’ neighborhoods she was known as a fighter and a thief, and notorious for never getting caught. Rose had worked hard to gain her reputation. The fear that her mother would discover her secret life haunted her lonely dreams.
Mrs. Woodage, her maths teacher, had always suspected that there was more to the quiet little Rose Lewis. Ever since first year the old bat had watched her like a bloody hawk, just waiting for her to slip up. Today she had been making nasty comments about her mum, just waiting for her to snap. Well, after a while she got her wish.
Mrs. Woodage was writing down the day’s assignment when Rose accidentally knocked her backpack off her desk, causing her books and other assorted items to scatter across the hardwood floor. The old professor turned sharply, her beady eyes wet and glistening over a beak-like nose.
“You clumsy girl!” She snapped in an annoyingly high pitch, “How does your mother put up with you? Or perhaps she doesn’t, seeing as I was told she’s a prostitute who whores herself out on Main Street.” The entire class went deathly silent, turning their eyes to the pair, shock written in their eyes and on their faces.
Rose looked up from her partially refilled bag, a deadly calm in her pale pink eyes. Her black hair fell messily around her face as she stared back into those black, beady eyes. The girl said nothing. After a few moments the triumphant teacher’s sneer faded. Why was the brat just looking at her? She wasn’t even glaring. The rest of her pupils watched with bated breath, expecting the worst.
One of the dusty florescent lights began to flicker sporadically. Finally Mrs. Woodage turned back to the blackboard, letting her guard down. “Mr. Wesley, kindly go to Mr. Hammond’s office and tell him we need a new light in here.” The terrified boy never had a chance to move as a few dusty chalkboard erasers slowly rose from the metal lip and hovered ominously above the unsuspecting victim.
POFF!!
In a cloud of powdered chalk Mrs. Woodage could be seen screaming, absolutely terrified by the sight before her. Several girls in the front followed suit and ran from the room. The erasers continues to beat the poor woman incessantly as Rose simply sat there with a blank expression. Soon the class was emptied, leaving the feuding pair alone. Finally the utensils of her vengeance fell to the floor.
“You!” she shrieked, raising a trembling finger. Rose stood up slowly and approached her like a cat stalking its prey. “You’re a freak, you little brat!” Her eyes were wide in either fury or pure terror, or perhaps both. Rose continued her advance. “I told them you were trouble, I told them, but they all said it couldn’t be true, not Julianna Lewis’ daughter…” she rambled. The dark expressioned girl finally stopped nearly nose-to-nose with her. Mrs.Woodage’s eyes bulged as Rose put a finger up to her lips.
“Shhh,” she whispered darkly. “You’ll find out what hell is like, Mrs. Woodage. I’ll show you what a freak is. One little slice, Beatrice, and I can make you a freak forever. Just like me.” The light shone from a previously hidden blade that now came to rest on her teacher’s pale cheek. “Do we understand each other?”
The heavy smell of urine drifted up to her and she sneered.
The frail old woman collapsed and Rose calmly collected the rest of her spilled items and sat stone-faced in her desk until the headmaster arrived five minutes later.
~ ~
“Mrs. Lewis, please sit.”
The headmaster was a balding man of sixty-three with muddy blue eyes and a personality to match. He watched with an air of arrogance as the tall, slim woman did as he asked. Most men would have been prone to indecent thoughts and fantasies about this stunningly beautiful woman, but Alexander Remington was not any other man. He sat stiff and straight in his chair and waited patiently for her to get settled.
“I am afraid that the person who contacted me did not relinquish much information on this matter. She only said it was urgent and I should come quickly.” Her voice was smooth as silk, light as the breath of morning air just before dawn. Her long copper hair was pulled back into a messy bun atop a perfectly oval head. Her dark blue eyes shone from under furrowed brows curiously at the seething child at her side. Rose refused to look at her.
“We have a very serious incident to discuss, madam. Rose had attacked one of her teachers again. Mrs. Woodage would be here to comment but has been taken to the hospital to recover from this ordeal.” His eyes narrowed as a soft gasp escaped Julianna’s soft lips. “It is more than a simple physical attack, Mrs. Lewis. Your daughter beat her with chalk board erasers and then proceeded to hold her at knifepoint with some very… choice words as to her imminent fate.”
Julianna turned sharply to her daughter. “You did what?” Rose glared at the floor. She mumbled an inaudible answer and crossed her arms. “I heard that, Rose Anna,” growled her vexed mother. Mr. Remington watched with mild interest. Mrs. Lewis turned to him apologetically.
“I can not apologize enough, sir. I would never have expected this from her. Rose is usually very agreeable-”
“Agreeable?” spat Rose venomously. “Is that how you describe me, mother? Just agreeable? I suppose then that you are a satisfactory mother and an unfortunate human being. Is that bloody right, Mum?” Julianna sat speechless with shock. “I suppose then you’ll have to do without your agreeable daughter for the rest of this pointless meeting, then. You might not see me at home. Deal with it.” Trembling in fury, she rose and stormed from the room, bursting into a run as the cool outside air kissed her wet cheeks.
After a brief but tiring run she arrived at the duplex that she called home. A misty-eyed old woman was bent over a feeding trough that served as a flower bed. Bright yellow daffodils peeked over the top. The old lady turned to her with a distant smile.
“Hello, dear. Back from school so soon?”
~ ~
“Lillian! Lillian. Where is Rose?! Where is my daughter?”
A panicked Julianna rushed up to the frazzled woman, out of breath. She put down her spade and thought deeply.
“How did you bee a slaughter? You aren’t making sense, dear, calm down. Would you like a cup of tea?”
“No, Lillian. I need to find Rose. She ran off!”
“What was that? You never slew a doze?”
“Rose! R-O-S-E!! Where did she go?”
“Share us a bow?”
“Rose!”
“Clothes?”
“ROSE!”
“Nose?”
“Are you cracked, you old bat?”
“Cracked? What ever- oh. Oh.” She leaned towards the frustrated woman and spoke in a hushed voice. “Have my trousers fallen past my buttocks?”
“Oh! Bloody hell! Forget it! I’ll find her on my own!” Julianna stormed off in a huff.
“Now that was awfully rude of her… Didn’t even stay for tea.”
~ ~
Rain danced across the pavement, creating a symphony of put-put-putting. A thin river of blood flowed down a tiny rivulet to the road. The source appeared to be a young girl dressed in black sitting against the side of an abandoned building. It seemed to passers-by that she was impervious to the rain that soaked her. A shadow blocked the dim light that emanated from the street lamp and Rose slowly looked at the stranger. His face was too shadowed to make anything out but he had a strong scent to him. The scent of blood.
“What a pretty little thing.” He laughed lowly, mockingly. Rose turned away pointedly. “Leave me alone, dumb fuck. Go bark up someone else’s tree.”
“As happy as I would be to oblige, I’m afraid my boss wouldn’t be too happy about that. You see, we need you.”
“Well fuck him, then. I’m not any use to anybody. Or I won’t be in a few minutes.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I’m dying, you bloody lummox. I slit my writs about a minute ago. Good luck with your boss.” She hugged her knees closer to herself, feeling the cold of blood loss beginning to seep through her skin.
He was silent for a moment. Then he laughed and bent to scoop her into his arms. “Doesn’t really matter, love. You’ll be dead in a few days anyway.”
Rose never saw the cruel grin that crept across his face.
“We’ll just extend your life a bit over the next week, so you’d better be grateful.”