Frozen Fire-Chapter 19

 Frozen Fire-Chapter 19 

I let out a loud sneeze. I had to walk in the rain to get here, though I was immune to the cold(something about the night always being linked to the cold), but unfortunately I was not immune from getting a cold.

I stood in a familiar doorway. I had been here last year...when my grandmother died, I remembered walking out of this door, turning back to my family and acting as if I had no relation to them.. Thinking about all that made my chest hurt.

Finally, I knocked on the door. I heard a familiar voice say "I'm coming" from behind it. The door opened, the woman appeared behind the door, had flowing black hair that were the same colour of her eyes.

"Yes?" She said before looking up, she then took a good look at my face. "Christopher...Have you been walking in the rain? God, come in your going to get a cold out there."

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I wiped my hair and clothes with the towel my sister gave me. I sat at the dining table she in the kitchen, cooking something that smelled suspiciously like curry.

I stood up and looked at the home of my late grandmother. It has not changed at all, it looked exactly like it did the first I came here. And even after her passing, it still looking the same, even my name that I wrote on the dining table when I was twelve was still there. I guess Nina took care in the area of decoration in this house.

"Christopher! You should go take a hot bath, i'll have dinner ready in a minute." My sister shouted from the kitchen.

I sneezed then said. "Okay." Before heading towards the shower.

The hot water of the shower was like a warm blanket against my cold skin. It was a great feeling especially after taking a shower in the rain. I looked at my skin, it will filled with faint white scars. Some were small others were long.

I looked at my arm, three years ago, there was nothing special about it. Now, close to my wrist there was the mark of Nyx. Two cresent moons touching, it was dark blue in colour. It was light enough to be able to see clearly on my dark tan skin, but dark enough for it to unnoticeable if you didn't look at it closely.

And above the mark was other marks. Marks that I made. For every person, that died because of me. I made a cut on my arm. It was a reminder about what I was fighting for, a painful an permanent reminder. What I was fighting for, it was to protect.

I walked out of the shower, got changed and went to the dining room. Nina had already finished cooking, I was right, it was curry. I walked over to table and sat beside Nina.

"Have a good shower?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Good. Come on let's eat." She picked up her fork and spoon.

"Uhmm...Nina I need to tell you something." I admitted.

"Not now! It's not like everyday where I get to eat dinner with my younger brother." She countered. "Don't spoil this for me."

I raised my hands in defeat. I took my plate of rice and poured some curry over it. I took a big bite out of it. The warm curry went down my throat, it was warm and delicious. It smelled like cinnamon and a lot of other different spicies.

"It's grandma's recipe!" I looked at my sister. "You perfected it?"

She showed me her hand, the once petite and delicate hands she once had were now had obvious burn marks, that we obviously burnt marks from hot oil.

"I've been practising. I wanted you to be able to eat it when you came home. Even after grandma's.." Her voice cracked. She couldn't bring herself to say death.

"Well it's perfect. Thank you Nina." I said.

My sister smiled. "Thank you Chris."

We ate, laughed and just enjoyed each other's company. I didn't want this night to end. I wanted to stay with my sister, with the twins. I wanted my old life back. But I knew it wasn't possible. The past is past, and the future is the only option. My grandmother's words. I looked up at the picture of Rachel Fauns on the wall.

''Isn't that right Grandmother? ''I asked. If she was here she would say. Yes.

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<span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Helvetica; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-top-color: windowtext; border-right-color: windowtext; border-bottom-color: windowtext; border-left-color: windowtext; border-top-width: 1pt; border-right-width: 1pt; border-bottom-width: 1pt; border-left-width: 1pt; padding-top: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-bottom: 0in; padding-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; "> Archie: Being normal is overrated  11:42, December 5, 2011 (UTC)

