41. i felt a funeral in my brain.
☆
CLARA SHELBY HAD SPENT SO MUCH OF HER LIFE as an eighteen-year-old inside of her office. She knew every nook and cranny, every single hiding place. She knew where each and every single file was, she knew exactly where archived material was, where dust landed easily, and every single inch where the light of her lamp touched. She knew everything within the small four walls. She was completely in control.
Clara tapped her pen against the form she worked through. Her heart had been going haywire the entire day in anticipation of what was to come. She'd barely managed to focus on her tasks set by Tommy while her leg repeatedly jumped up and down. She'd taken numerous doses of cocaine to try to soothe her shot nerves yet none of it seemed to work.
A loud knock on her office door snapped the girl out of her daze. She glanced towards the frosty glass before she leaned back with a heavy sigh.
"Come in," Clara called out, her eyes flitted from the sheet to the opening door. Pol walked in with a straight face as she stood in front of the desk. "Hello, Pol, what brings you into my very humble abode?"
"Here's the list of things to be done in London tomorrow," Pol pursed her lips, "Tommy wants you to have minimal contact. This is just a routine file and account pick up so Tommy wants you in and out."
"Tommy wants this, Tommy wants that," Clara mocked, "Tommy can bloody pick up a phone and tell me himself if he's so concerned. You're not a postal service, Pol."
"Clara, he's mourning," Pol gently reminded,
"Yeah, he is, and he's also in the middle of bloody nowhere with his son,"
Ada had told Clara all about how Tommy had taken off in a Vardo with Charlie and Johnny Doggs soon after Clara had left Arrow House.
"Pol, we both know that the London business is on the verge of snaking down here to take over," The girl continued. "These little trips to the past are doing no one any good."
"Let him believe," Pol said simply, "when you're in London, listen for any indicators at all. They're expecting you at seven in the morning sharp. Clara, don't be late."
"I know, I know," Clara answered, "I'm never late...is Ada still at Arrow House?"
"She's staying there until Tommy returns," The older woman sighed, "she said you have the keys."
Clara clicked her tongue as she pulled open the drawer of her desk and rummaged through the mess. She withdrew her hand with a set of keys dangling from her fingertips.
"Looks like I do," Clara set the keys on the desk before she shut the drawers. "Great..."
"Clara," Pol spoke up, her eyes stern but warm. The same eyes that Clara had known all her life. "Be careful in London,"
"I always am, Pol, I always am."
☆
CLARA AWKWARDLY OPENED THE DOOR TO ADA'S HOUSE, as Penny followed close behind with a small bag in her hands. The Shelby girl's eyes drifted over the desolate house that lay silent with the many secrets London had to offer. This house, (unlike Arrow House), held life. A life Clara loved to live. A life where each moment was spent in exuberant joy and naïve carelessness. This house held memories. Good ones. Memories of coming home at four o'clock in the morning after nights out with Nadia, memories of countless breakfasts with her equally hungover older sister, memories of laughter and joy.
It was the heart of her London experiences, the place it all fed back into.
"So...this is it," Clara grinned, holding out her arms as she spun. "And for the entirety of your stay...it's all ours."
Penny nodded silently and looked around with a faint smile. Clara watched with knowing eyes as the girl traced the wallpaper designs and curiously looked behind doors.
The drive up hadn't been as pleasant as Clara had hoped it would be. There were endless moments of uncomfortable silence, the kind of silence that felt as if one word could kill everything within a two-kilometre radius. She'd tried to make conversation but things felt so...stiff? Clara had known Penny and back then everything had been so easy. Conversation had come easily and practically rolled off the tongue but now?... Now it was guarded behind the teeth, unable to be freed.
"Do you live here?" Penny questioned. Clara blinked as she refocused her attention on the blonde.
"From time to time," Clara nodded, "last year I had school up here, and now I mainly come here if I have business. It's my sister's house."
"Business?" Penny curiously asked, treading across Ada's pristine carpet and towards the paintings scattered across the walls.
"Yep, business," Clara confirmed as she lowered her head with a smirk. Business...and Nadia, of course. And London's incredible snow supply and their clubs and alcohol. But it all just fell under business.
"What kind of business?" Penny's eyes flickered to Clara as the Shelby girl leaned against the doorway to watch Penny admire the art.
"Just business."
"What counts as 'just business'?" Penny raised a sceptical brow.
"You know I can't tell you that," Clara grimaced, "it's business. It's my work...you don't like my work."
"No...I just don't like your family's ethic," Penny hummed. Clara's lips formed an 'o' as her brows pinched together.
"My family's ethic kept me alive along with many impoverished people in Small Heath," Clara countered, there were a few beats of silence. "Do you hate the poor now, Angel?"
"What?" Penny sputtered as she turned on her heel to come face to face with Clara's impish grin. "I don't hate the poor...I don't!"
"Hm..." Clara mimicked Penny's earlier hum. "Could've fooled me."
"I don't hate the poor," the blonde reiterated,
"Penny, relax, I'm only joking," Clara huffed as she shoved her hands into her pockets. "C'mon now, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping." She heard Penny's light footsteps follow her as she ascended the stairs of Ada's home. "There's three bedrooms, one is Ada's, one is a guest room—mainly mine though if we're being honest. And then down the hall is Karl's."
Clara paused outside her room, "You're staying in here tonight," she tilted her head towards Penny. "I'll take Ada's room...you can put your stuff in here, c'mon."
The Shelby girl entered the familiar room as Penny tentatively crept in behind her. The blonde girl looked around cautiously as she examined the bare room.
"It's different to your one in Watery Lane," Penny eventually spoke up as she placed her bag on the floor.
"You think?" Clara scrunched her brows as she watched Penny.
"Yeah, it's clean..."
Clara let out a breathy laugh as she dropped her head. "Yeah, it's clean..." she mused, "Look, Penny, I was thinking we could go out tonight? Loosen up a bit? I could show you London? The real London."
"Um...sure, yeah," Penny bit her lip as she nodded. "But I only have this dress...I don't think I can wear it out."
"Lucky for you, my wardrobe is big and so is Ada's," Clara winked as her tongue clacked against her teeth. "I'm sure I can find you something."
☆
CLARA STOOD BESIDE PENNY AS THE BLONDE STARED up at the flashing lights of the Aurora Club. Unlike the fancier 43 Club, the Aurora Club was the place to begin in London. Clara knew that. She had to ease Penny into the lifestyle. The Shelby girl had rummaged through Ada's wardrobe and stolen a cobalt blue beaded dress for the other girl. The dress fell just below Penny's knees. The blonde's hair was pinned up and away from her face, and a few loose curls bounced free. Penny's face had a sparse amount of powder pressed into it, her cheeks rounded with a loose red pigment. Her eyelids were painted with a gold shadow while her pink lips were perfectly defined into a sharp Cupid's bow.
She looked perfect. She always looked perfect.
Clara's hands smoothed down her green dress. A green dress which Nadia had gifted to her less than a year ago. It moulded to her body in all of the right places. It was a perfect dress. The girl took in a deep breath.
"It's time to go in," Clara grinned as she linked her arm through Penny's. "Lighten up, Angel, it'll do you the world of good."
Penny's eyebrows furrowed but she walked alongside the Shelby girl willingly. The two waltzed through the doors and were immediately greeted with the deafening music from the band below them. Clara led the girl towards the balcony edge with a familiar smile.
"It's so loud!" Penny commented, her voice straining to be heard over the music.
"That's how you know it's good!" Clara called back as she took the blonde's hand and rushed down the steps towards one of the last remaining tables. "Loud music is the equivalent to pure gold around here, the louder the more expensive and busier the place is."
"Why is that?!"
"It's just how London works, Angel," Clara laughed as she pulled out a chair for Penny to sit in. "You're not in Small Heath anymore. Up here? Up here is different. Anyone can be anything...or do anything. Here you are just one of the millions. One person in a crowd of thousands. Just like everybody else."
"I don't like that," Penny frowned while Clara grabbed two glasses of champagne off of a passing tray.
"Why not?" Clara sat down opposite the blonde and handed her a drink.
"My mother always said to not follow the crowd,"
"I'd rather be in this crowd than in any other. In this crowd, I can be me. I can be Clara. I can shine like a thousand stars, just like everybody who experiences London for what it truly is. Here, each of us can feel like the centre of the universe, certain places can be the centre of all gravity. Here? This place? This is home to so many."
"Is it home to you?" Penny sipped the champagne as her eyes flitted around.
"Sometimes," Clara nodded, downing her drink. "When I need it." Penny seemed to be looking around as her emotions flitted from disdain to confusion to understanding.
"It's crazy up here," the blonde remarked,
"Perhaps...but is that a bad thing? I used to know a girl who used to take all of the chances she could to embrace a different and more erratic lifestyle." Clara stared directly at Penny, "She would've loved it up here...but now as I'm sitting here, I feel like I didn't know that girl at all. I feel like that girl was one big trick. Am I wrong?"
Clara's cold eyes trailed towards Penny, whose head was bowed. The Shelby girl wished her eyes would blur. She wished the world around her was spinning as she danced on cocaine, sandwiched between strangers and people desperate to escape. She wished her head would throb and pulse but provide a steady stream of euphoric adrenaline. She wished she was high. She wished she'd taken it before coming out to these clubs. Because even the horrific scenes of London's nightlife seemed to dull and fade into grey without the powder. The world was dark and Clara Shelby didn't like the dark.
"You don't have to answer, we can make small talk instead." Clara eventually tutted as she placed down her drink. "So...how's Anthony? How's the family fortune? Does he know you're up here? With me?"
"No..."
"Where does he think you are, Angel?"
"Visiting a distant aunt...getting a brooch for the wedding," Penny admitted, her head lowered in shame.
"There it is," Clara clicked her tongue, "there's always a concealed truth."
"A lie, you mean?" Penny asked,
"Nope," The Shelby shook her head, "I never asked, you never gave me a fake answer. It's a concealed truth. Not a lie."
"But I lied to him...to my fiancé,"
"Yes, that's a lie, but sometimes lies are good. They make life a lot easier."
"No, they complicate everything. I hate it."
"Then don't hate it...let it go," Clara shrugged, "let it go, and come dance. You haven't danced properly until you've danced in this crowd."
"But it's so busy!" Penny objected, her soft voice slightly shriller than usual. "Everyone's out there!"
"And that's what makes it better, come on, come let it go." The Shelby girl stood up. "Not a single eye will be on you...except mine, my eyes are always on you." She winked as she walked back towards the dance floor. "Coming?"
A pit formed in Clara's stomach as she joined the crowd. This was just like every other time. She was fine. The world wasn't blurred. The people were clear and dancing. The music was merely background noise to the noise of people's laughter and joy. This was her safe ground. She was fine. As she allowed her instincts to take over dancing, Clara's eyes darted around the crowd. She could see everyone.
Everything.
She could see the sweat dripping down a man's forehead as he bent toward his partner. She could see lipstick smeared across another woman's face. She could see people with alcohol spillages down their dresses and shirts. She could see everything. It made her arms falter above her as she danced. It made her twirl but only so she could survey the dance floor further. It made her heart beat faster.
She felt a cold hand suddenly grasp at her elbow.
The boney fingers grasped her arm in an attempt to grab her attention. Clara's chest rose and fell heavily. She turned. Her face dropped as Penny awkwardly danced amongst the crowd, her pale hand clasped around Clara's arm as if using it as an anchor. Clara smiled. Not a genuine smile. A smile that was so false that even the most oblivious of people would notice if they looked close enough.
Clara couldn't be contained. She didn't like it. As her breaths grew more rapid, she carefully slipped out of Penny's clutches. Her body was still moving. It swayed and slinked. Her limbs suddenly felt clunky. Her feet and arms grew heavy. As heavy as a sack of bricks. Her face felt unusually warm and the warmth only continued to creep down her neck. Her skin prickled. She gulped as she danced, her eyes still flirting around as if half expecting the world to morph into the colourful world she loved. The world she knew.
Penny stood out in the crowd as her glum frown had changed into a tentative smile as she got the hang of how the dancing worked. It seemed like the looser Penny grew with her body, the tighter and tenser Clara became. The blonde became a marking point for Clara as she spun in a circle trying to map out the club.
She was being pressed up against on either side, Penny on her left and a rather sweaty man on her right. There were people in front and behind her. The music seemed to grow louder. The drumming and trumpets grew more incessant. Clara winced as she slinked around. This was not her London. This was not the London she knew.
Clara couldn't take it anymore. She watched as Penny laughed and danced. She looked like she had all those years ago. Her lips stretched across her face and her laughter seemed to blend into the music like a newly written melody. Clara should've been content. She should've been happy. She had Penny back and Penny seemed to be happy.
She couldn't do it.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom," Clara yelled over the music to Penny. The blonde's eyebrows scrunched but before she could ask a question, Clara was stumbling and pushing her way out of the crowd.
Her chest felt tight as she pressed a hand to her heart. Sweat beaded along the Shelby girl's hairline as she shoved people out of her way. The bathroom was only across the dance floor but Clara felt like she was walking on glue, getting stuck and trapped with each step.
When she finally reached the bathroom, she almost cried with glee at how empty it was. She closed the main door and looked in each of the empty stalls for any stray women vomiting or snorting snow.
Clara's nails scrawled at her throat as her bleary eyes scanned her reflection. Her hair was tousled and loose. Her face was flushed and it looked like she had a chronic case of blushing. The sweat along her hairline and at the base of her neck glistened under the harsh bathroom lights. Her neck had red scratches from her nails as she tried to suck in air. Clara took a deep breath in as she forced her hands down onto the marble sink. She met her own eyes in the mirror and shook her head. She had been fine earlier.
How had it all changed for the worse?
"It's you,"
Clara glanced around. She knew that voice. It lived in her head. She knew it. She needed to see it. She needed to know.
"Where are you?" Clara croaked, her heart not slowing as she grounded her teeth together.
"You always do this. You ruin the good, the peace. You say it changed for the worse, but the change is you. Look at you."
Clara looked toward her reflection once more. Except it wasn't her reflection. It was her. But not her at all. The reflection was smug and foggy. It sneered at her. It was the voice. Clara was so sure.
"You get a good thing and you run away." The reflection jeered. "You got Penny and then you ran away. You always run away, that's what she said years ago, isn't it? Run, run, run...it's all you do. Running like a little rabbit. A little coward."
Clara's lips parted. She cursed her nerves as her lip trembled.
"Oh look, you're shaking. You cant even have an honest conversation with yourself? God, we're pathetic. You're a mess." The voice laughed. Her reflection pointed two fingers to the side of her head. "Put the gun to your head, and play a game. Is the bullet in the barrel? Winner lives. Little cowardly rabbit dies."
"You...you are not me," Clara gritted, as her hands gripped her hair. She paced as the crazed voice grew louder and surrounded her.
"Run little rabbit, run, run, run." It cackled.
Clara pressed her back against a wall. Stability. She needed to feel the wall. Her spine lay uncomfortably against the brick, leaving dark red indents on her skin.
"Little rabbit Clara, so young so sweet, little rabbit Clara, she don't take much to beat. Little rabbit Clara found a gun, Little rabbit Clara it's time to run."
Clara plugged her ears as the song-like words bounced off of each wall. She rammed her head back against the brick hoping it would just knock her out. The darkness was more forgiving than this. The insane voice continued to sing words of malice and mockery as it laughed.
Clara shook her head in frustration as she stuck a hand down the front of her dress. She pulled out a blue bottle. A blue bottle which was oh so familiar. She'd sworn that tonight she wouldn't take anything. She'd sworn it. Penny didn't like the stuff. Clara hurriedly pushed herself to her feet as she ignored the tears that traced her cheek. She quickly tapped out the entire bottle onto the counter as the jeers began.
"What? Can't handle the voice? Can't handle yourself? The truth?! You're taking the coward's way out. Coward, coward, coward, coward, COWARD!"
Clara squeezed her eyes shut and snorted up the powder. She kept sniffing it up until all the contents were gone from sight. She staggered backwards, her hand brushed against the wall. Her blurring blue eyes looked hesitantly towards the reflection. It was her. Just her. The Shelby girl let out a shuddered sigh of relief as she backed into a stall and slammed the door shut. She slid down the sticky wall and onto the dirty floor, her head buried in her arms.
She needed to pull it together.
"Clara? Are you in here?"
The Shelby girl lifted her head slowly.
"Clara?" Penny looked around the bathroom as Clara pulled herself up from the ground, she held onto the wall for support.
The world was fuzzy. Clara smiled. It was all blurred. It was London.
Clara unlocked the stall door and immediately stepped into Penny's arms which were outstretched and about to open the door. The Shelby girl's tongue slid across her lower lip in contemplation.
"Clara, are you—?"
Clara lunged forward and grasped Penny's face between her hands as she pressed her lips to the blonde's. It was a desperate kiss. Clara's lips moved sloppily and quickly. She needed to feel something other than insanity. She needed to feel Penny. She needed to feel. Penny seemed to have frozen in shock at Clara's sudden embrace. She remained still.
Clara faltered as her mind tempted her to deepen the kiss. She pulled back slightly, her hands moving to Penny's arms to stabilise her. Their chests were now touching. Clara couldn't meet Penny's eyes. She kept her blue on the pink of the blonde's pursed lips.
"Tell me you love him, and I won't kiss you again," Clara murmured. The world around her swayed and rocked and threatened to topple her. "Tell me you love him and I swear we can go back out there and I will never kiss you again...touch you again."
"I-" Penny gasped as Clara's nose nudged her. "I...I can't. Kiss me."
Clara didn't need to be told a second time as she recaptured Penny's lips and frantically kissed the girl. Clara's blown pupils became sheathed behind her eyelids as Penny held her waist. The kiss was soft. A kiss Clara would have to get used to. It wasn't like any kisses she'd had since the years of her childish youth. Clara didn't know how to feel about it. It was warm. It melted her, it faltered her thoughts but didn't stop them.
Clara pressed harder into the kiss, her body flush against Penny's. The blonde girl stumbled backwards, leaning against the wall for support as Clara took control. Clara's hands were everywhere. From Penny's arms to her hair to her back. She was completely consumed by the Shelby girl.
Penny withdrew slowly after a few minutes, her chest rising and falling. The blonde was laughing, her head tilted back against the wall. Clara bit her lips as she rested her head atop the other girl's clavicle. She could feel Penny's pulse. It rushed and pounded against the girl's skin. It thrummed in a steady and fast-paced manner. Clara closed her eyes with a shaky breath. The beat lulled her as the two stood there in comfortable silence. She glanced towards the mirror, her reflection stared right back at her and she swore...she swore she saw it smirk.
Clara sucked in a breath and pulled away from Penny. "How about we go home, Penny?" She asked, her fingers trailing up the blonde's neck before resting at the base of the girl's skull.
"Lead the way,"
☆
CLARA SHELBY TO MOST WAS AN ENIGMA. She'd always been described as such. She had liked being an enigma. It meant no one could ever begin to estimate what she would do next and whilst part of her still relished the thrill of it, the other half yearned for resolve. And just when her life began to settle, fate threw obstacles at her. The voice. Penny's engagement. Her jaded mind. It never stopped. She thought it would stop. She wasn't a child anymore. She didn't crave excitement, she craved stability.
Stability in anything at all.
"What's going on in that head of yours?" Penny whispered, her slender fingers running through Clara's tangled locks. Clara looked up, her cheek brushing against the bare skin of the blonde's stomach. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight before her.
Words could not describe how beautiful Penny looked in her bed. She was so unbelievably bewitching that it was impossible to place just how much beauty she held. Penny looked like how Clara would describe the feeling of the sun. She was warm, her tousled blonde hair spread out on the pillow like a halo or rays of pure light.
The orange light from outside streamed into Clara's bedroom through a crack in the curtain, illuminating the sparkling sheen on Penny's bare chest, which rose and fell slowly and smoothly. Clara could spend an entire day just sitting and staring at Penny Crawford. She was art, you see. Every time you looked at her you'd notice something else, deeper meanings, different quirks and differences. She was art. She wasn't made to be glanced at or discarded, no, she was made to be observed and analysed. She was the type of art that made you feel hundreds of different emotions despite feeling nothing at all.
"Clara..?"
"Mhm?" Clara hummed, and a small smile crept across her face as she pressed a soft kiss just above the blonde's navel before she pushed herself up to lay beside the girl.
Penny turned onto her side, her eyes tracing the silhouette of Clara's face. "You still get lost in your mind," she observed while her cold fingers skimmed the faded white scar across Clara's cheekbone.
"It's hard not to," Clara uttered, her eyes on the ceiling above her.
"What were you thinking about?" Penny furthered which caused Clara to laugh softly.
"You...you and me,"
"What about us?"
Clara turned onto her side so she was face to face with Penny. Their noses brushed ever so slightly, their foreheads mere centimetres apart.
"Once, when I was younger...during the war, I was dragged to church with Aunt Pol." Clara gradually began, "I didn't want to go, I'd been trying to get out of going all morning and so when we got there, I threw a fit. I started screaming and shouting about how God wasn't real."
Penny listened with pinched brows, her lips pursed in a way that tempted Clara to just lean forward and kiss her and discard the conversation entirely.
"I was dragged home and given the strap. Ten lashes in total." Clara chuckled, "Pol made me read the Bible, Old Testament, New Testament, all of it, twice over...and now that I'm thinking about it, not one bit of that book does it state that a woman cannot love another woman. If I'm correct, it says something along the lines of 'If a man lies with a man as one lies with woman, both of them have done what is detestable.'"
Clara paused and laughed once more.
"Yet...we are not men, are we? We are woman lying with woman in a way man lies with woman." She rambled, she looked toward Penny with a smile. "Everyone always says it's wrong, but it's not in the bible...it's not law. I mean for men it is the law, but not for women."
"Clara, the world is cruel," Penny cut in, "Perhaps it's not illegal, but it's not exactly accepted. You've heard the stories...you've had to heard them!"
"I've heard them," Clara answered, "but fuck the stories, fuck the people, fuck everyone...and maybe fuck me, literally of course."
"Did you seriously just say that?" Penny laughed, brushing back a strand of Clara's hair.
"Yes,"
"No, I will not fuck you, I need to sleep."
Clara huffed and turned back onto her back.
"You should sleep too," Penny whispered through a yawn.
"I will," Clara nodded, as she grabbed a cigarette from the table beside her and lit it. "Sleep, Penny, I'll see you in the morning."
"You called me Penny," She murmured, "I don't like it."
"I'm sorry, Angel," Clara muttered and as she took a long drag of her cigarette she watched Penny's eyes flutter open and shut until they finally remained shut.
Once the blonde's chest steadily rose and fell in deep breaths, Clara detached herself from the other girl. She rid all sense of touch between them as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, exhaling a large cloud of smoke. She ran a hand over her face with a sigh. Her ears no longer rung and her vision was no longer blurry.
Her feet hit the cold ground as she stood and grabbed a robe from the chair beside her bed. Clara shrugged on the soft material before she glanced back at Penny who was sleeping soundly. The girl shook her head as she pinched her nose and fled the room.
The house was silent if you overlooked the typical creaks and cracks from around the house. Broken moonlight streamed through the windows and into the house, illuminating the stairs as Clara crept down them. Her cigarette was almost burnt out but she continued to smoke it. Her feet precariously carried her towards the downstairs hall and over to the phone. The girl's eyes darted towards the upstairs before she picked up the phone and spun the dial.
The operator's voice crackled through the receiver and Clara was quick to mutter the address through the line. A click resounded through the phone as it rang once more.
"Hello," Clara spoke into the phone as the ring ceased.
"Shelby, where are you? You were meant to be here hours ago!"
Clara grimaced at Nadia's sharp and questioning tone.
"I'm sorry...I got caught up in business, I won't be able to see you when I'm up here."
"Really?!"
"Yeah..."
"Look, Clara, are you okay? You sound distant."
"I'm okay, go get some sleep...I promise I'll try to see you soon,"
"Good! Phone calls aren't enough and it's costing me a ruddy fortune!"
"Goodnight, Nadia."
"Goodnight, Clara,"
Clara placed the phone down with a heavy heart. She looked down at her glowing cigarette butt that had built up ashes. Her brows furrowed as she leaned against the wall behind her, her head banging off of it slowly and silently.
She looked down at the cigarette. It was warm and beckoning. It felt warm. Very warm. Her eyes glazed as she focused on the cigarette and the smoke twirling and dancing around her in mocking shapes. She smelt burning. She smelt ash and smoke and burning. Clara blinked heavily. She could feel her heart in her arm. It was loud and pulsing. It pulsed so hard it was painful. So painful. And warm.
Painfully warm.
With a sharp gasp, Clara dropped the cigarette onto the floor. She felt involuntary tears spring to her eyes as she instantly cradled her forearm. Her face scrunched up as she rocked her arm in hopes of easing the pain that flared from the flesh. She shook her head roughly and carefully moved her arm to look at it.
Right, in the dead centre of her forearm, a circle of burned red flesh, bubbled and threatened to bleed. A circle made by her cigarette. A circle that now oozed with agonising pain. Clara bit her lip as she slid down the wall.
She was going insane.
She was going insane.
☆
[unedited]
SURPRISE! HAPPY THURSDAY!
because I won't be able to update tomorrow, I decided to publish this tonight also YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH FORESHADOWING I'VE WRITTEN THIS ACT SO FAR!
Anyways how is everyone on this fine Friday? I am currently very stressed because I have exams coming up :'(
ANYWAYS I LOVE YOU ALL AND SEE YOU SOON <3 (enjoy your weekly meme!)
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