greed and wealth | charade

A body comes flying off the roof.

It crashes into a bush below her window with a loud thud. Hands tense and instinctively she places the broom between herself and the open window. She didn't know how much use it would be, her ability to wield it like a weapon unknown territory. But if she needed too, she would brandish it like a weapon, protecting her family and herself.

She had made a vow to herself a long time ago that she would never let anything bad happen to Jasper and Charlie. She was all they had left, and them all she had, and she would protect them with her life. She would never let anyone hurt them again, not like how their parents had. She could hardly say it out loud that they left. That they had abandoned them. Pretending that if it was never spoken then time would reverse itself to the moment they left. But it never did. It never will. This was her reality, and she was slowly learning how to live with it.

Charlie was to young to know any better. But Clio could tell that Jasper knew. She often would spot him watching the door. Waiting. Waiting for them to turn up, luggage in hand and pretend that nothing happened. But he knew that they wouldn't. She just never had the heart to put into into words. To shatter any hope that he might be harbouring.

Maybe it was cruel of her to say nothing. Maybe it was because she too harbour the same hope. Hope that they would knock on the door and take responsibility for her and her siblings. To remove that weight and pressure from her tiny shoulders. Sometimes it just felt so heavy that one wrong move and she would be crushed.

A face pops up from the ruins of the bush and instantly she recognises it. Her stomach twists. Her eyes narrowing. Micah. The man who haunts her dreams. The man who had fled tail between his legs. “Uh, Merry Ratmas?” He hold his hands out so that they are visible. One hand is empty, the other dangles a chain, a ring connected. A frown forms on her brow, her eyes watching him and the jewellery that swayed loosely from his thumb closely.

Was this some joke?

How did he know where she lived?

Was he stalking her?

Taking a quick look over she shoulder, to make sure her brother or sister hadn't snuck out of their room, Clio places the broom against the window sill. She quickly climbs out the window, her bare feet poked and prodded by sharp twigs and stones. "What are you doing here? Did you follow me? How do you know where I live?" She should scream. Call for help. Do something. But she doesn't. She stands with her hands crossed against her chest, the night breeze ruffling her dark hair.

She was done running from her nightmares. She would face them head on.

"Mum, can you tell me a story?" her voice is quiet, the gentle snores of her brother and sister background noise as her mother takes a seat on the edge of her bed. She smiles down at Clio, running her fingers through her long dark hair. Clio felt the lull of sleep, the rhythmic strokes of her mothers touch tempting her into the arms of slumber. She fights it, wriggling underneath her covers as she wiggles free on her mothers fingers. "Please."

"Pumpkin, it's late. You need to sleep," her voice is low, soothing as she gently pushes Clio to the side, making enough room for her to lay beside her. She warps her arms around Clio, pressing her lips to her cheek for a quick kiss. Clio's eyes draw closed, her mother warmth making her feel safe. Maybe she didn't need to hear a story tonight.

A smile spreads across her lips as she gives in, her body feeling heavy. "I love you, Mum," she breathes as her consciousness drifts away on the sea of dreams that envelop her.

* * * 

She had felt so safe in her mothers arms. Protected from any evil. Any danger. But standing here, arms pressed tightly across her chest, winds laced with an icy chillness biting at her bare skin, she felt vulnerable. Vulnerable and scared. But she had decided she would be brave. That she would not run. She no longer had the luxury of her mothers protection, she had to be her own protection. Her families protection. She couldn't rely on anyone else.

“I don’t know, yes, and because I watch people.”

His answer has her skin crawling. He had been watching her. How much had he seen? What did he know about her? She should be scared now. She should be the one taking a step back, locking herself into the house. But what was the point? He knew where she lived. He had been watching her so he might even know her routine. When was the best time to strike, to end the unease that obviously consumed him, with the knowledge that she knew who he was. What he did.

Catch, he says as he tosses the ring towards Clio. Instinctively she uncrosses her arms, her hand reaching out to the catch the jewellery. After a quick debate she draw her eyes from him and down to the jewellery caught between her fingers. Eyes widening slightly she runs a careful thumb over the small inscription: an infinity symbol. “It should look familiar.” It does.

It was her's.

One of the three rings stolen from her.

The image of the knife pressed to her throat. Her heart beat begins to race, her mouth becoming dry.

Bur despite the situation she found herself wandering why. Why was he here. Why was he returning this ring. Did he feel bad? A frown creases her brow as she turns her detrained gaze towards him. "What the hell-"

“Take it, okay? Take this back and forget I exist. Please.” He pleads. Anger surges through her at the plea. How dare he. How dare he asks her to forget.

"Okay," she laughs taking a step towards him, forgetting all about her fear, about the thought of just how dangerous this boy might be. Right now she was blinded by her anger. "Okay so let me get this right: you steal Fromm me at knife point. Admit that you have been following me. Watching me. And you want me to simply forget? To move on like this never happened?" Her ands find her hips, "you see, that's not something I'm going to be able to do. You traumatised me. You stalked me. And now you're standing outside my window, like a creep, in the middle of the night."

She takes another step forward. "I'm sorry, Micha, but you've made it pretty hard to pretend that you don't exist."

Clio didn't feel quite like herself. She was not used to the way her heart raced, annoyance making her chest puff out. The way she had the urge to punch something, to throw something. She hated the way it feel, the way it made it slightly harder to breathe, the way it made it sound like her heart was beating in her ears, her throat. Her skin felt tight, and fidgety. It didn't feel like it belonged to her. Too hot, surging with emotions that filled her with a strong sense of discomfort.

The feeling of anger was an abnormal feeling for Clio. Usually so calm, quiet and caring. She was always looking for the good in others, even when their actions have caused her grief. That was who she was, who she liked to be. She liked begin quiet, a shadow in a room. Always unnoticed.

But tonight, standing under the moons gentle light, she felt anything but that. She was as bright at the shining moon, causing Micah to scramble further and further away from her. But maybe allowing her anger to blind her was a mistake. Taking a deep breath she tries to sooth the anger that surged around her blood. “I just wanted to—“ he starts, scrambling for the right words.

“People gotta eat alright?”

People gotta eat alright?

She saw red.

Fuck that.

She knew just as much as anyone on this district, struggling to make ends meet, to have food on the table to serve your hungry family. “People gotta eat, right?” she repeats, the anger which had been wanting, flaring up once again. She worked her ass off to make sure that her brother and sister did not have to go to bed hungry. She worked her ass of because no one else was going to do it for them. They were all she had, and she would never let them down.

You gotta do what you gotta do.... Did that mean steal from those who also had nothing? To terrorise those who also were just doing what they got to do for the ones that they love? Never, not once in her life, had she ever thought about pressing a blade to a persons throat, to steal what little they had on them, just so that she could eat. In times of desperation she had consider stealing a loaf of bread, or fruit from an unknowing stall keep... But to violently traumatise someone who might be exactly in her shoes? No. No she could never do that.

...For the people you care about.

The people you care about.

Suddenly she felt her anger slip, her eyes squinting slightly before relaxing. Was he doing this, all of this, for his family? Side eyeing her house she thinks about Jasper and Charlie. Maybe she was never desperate enough, to do the things he has. She tries to put herself in his shoes. Tries to think of if she had lost the house, her job. What would she do then? Would she stoop so low as to rob people at knife point? Her arms fall to her sides, her anger fading with each passing thought. Maybe she had judged too quickly. Forgotten who she was, to look past the bad and see the good.

He begs her to take the ring once again, promising that she would never have to see him again. And despite herself, despite the rage and distrust that had filled her earlier, she believed him.

"I understand- I think," she says quietly, looking down at the ring clasped tightly between her fingers. "I have two younger siblings," maybe it was a mistake to tell him, to let him now her weakness. "our parents walked out on us a couple years ago. Left me to deal with them alone. I work my bloody ass of to gather enough money to put food on the table." She flips the coin over in her hand, once again running a finger along the small symbol engraved into the metal.

She should shut up now, let him walk away. Never see him again.

"I saved for months to afford these rings. To give my brother a gift on his birthday." She looks up from the ring, gaze seeking his. "Then you took them, and I had nothing to give him. No money. Nothing. He was devastated." Her gaze drops. "But. But if you tell me that your reason for taking those rings was worth it... then- then maybe," her teeth catches her lower lip, hand wrapping tightly around the ring.

"Then maybe, maybe, I can forgive you."