Lizzie skimmed through the pages of Benjamin’s Romeo and Juliet book. It had been assigned earlier that week and Ben had kept it in his shoulder bag to sneak in some reading whenever he could. Now his book, along with the other contents of his bag, were strewn across the floor of the New York City public library.
“Ben I don’t think we’ll find it in your Romeo and Juliet book” Lizzie let out a disappointed sigh as Benjamin lifted his hands in a shrug to show that he too, had found nothing.
“That’s fine I can just call Anders for a ride home.” Benjamin jiggled his bag again to make sure his evasive subway card wasn’t stuck in any hidden pockets. Lizzie helped him pick up the rest of his things from the floor before grabbing her backpack and jacket from their table. It had already gotten dark, and Lizzie was sure one she stepped outside a light snow would be covering the library steps. She wrapped her green knitted scarf around her neck and removed her down jacket from the chair it was draped across, before bundling up in its heat.
“You know Benjamin, if you didn’t have your head screwed on, I’m sure you would forget it.”
“And if your pretty little mouth weren’t so sarcastic, I’m sure you would have more than just me- he made a dramatic gesture pointing towards himself, which Lizzie found particularly endearing -for a friend!” he replied sarcastically
Lizzie let out a mock sigh ”What would I do without you?”
She nudged Benjamin playfully, their footsteps echoing against the dark halls of the library. When they left through the double doors Liz saw she had been right to expect snow. In fact the snow was now coming down in large flakes that were sticking like spots over Ben’s expensive black jacket.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow Ben?”
“Yeah, see you tomorrow”
As Ben sauntered down the steps to his father’s sleek black limo Anders stepped out to open the door for him. Lizzie couldn’t help but feel a pit of uneasiness growing inside her. The walk to the subway did not take long, but it was cold and already dark. Lizzie looked down at her watch, quarter past six. If she was fast she could hop on the subway and be back at the apartment in half an hour.
She watched the car veer off onto the next street, but saw a shadow in her peripheral vision. She glanced over her shoulder at the imposing oak doors. She could have sworn there had been something there not two seconds ago, but now whatever it was that had caught her eye was gone, and new snow was erasing any traces that may have been left behind. Lizzie shrugged off her uneasiness. Before she had reached the station her hands had gone slightly numb and a deep hue of pink was spread across her face. The train ride was the same as always, “mind the gap”, yellow lines, white lines, danger zones, all of it felt as familiar to Liz as the four walls of Lacey’s house- or my house, she thought. Before Liz could dwell upon all the episodes of her life that had led her to her sisters doorstep that night, she found herself fumbling for the keys to the very same yellow door. It opened with a loud creek and Liz yelled “Laaayccceeey’s Im homee!” An overpowering smell of vanilla sented candles, and fusion tea, hit her. As a kid Liz had learned to love chocolate chip cookies, because it always meant mom was in a good mood, Lacey seemed to be indulging these childhood memories tonight… and in Lizzie’s experience that only meant one thing, bad news. The keys to Lacey’s Volkswagen bug were on the table beside the door, and Liz noticed Lacey had gone through the trouble of adding another bedazzled peace sign around the chain. The pink walls of the hallway led into the kitchen where Liz found Lacey on the white kitchen counter, hunched over a copy oh the New York times, coffee in hand, with a pencil holding up her intricately braided curly red hair. Lacey looked up from her paper upon hearing Liz’s loud and less than graceful entrance.
“hey little sister! I made cookies… well that’s not exactly true. I got those cheap ones with the fat boy on the front” Lacey reached across the counter on which she was sitting to the oven and sighed as she picked up a cookie “but none the less delicious I might add, go on take one…”
It wouldn’t have taken a psychologist to notice that the smile on Lacey’s face was fake, and Lizzie found herself much more intimately placed than a psychologist, making her breezy façade almost completely transparent. She stood her guard, plainly displaying her disbelief of the whole scene in her defensive stance. “Well that was fun, now you want to tell me what’s going on?” Lacey turned slowly her face solemn. Without the smile Liz could see the dark traces under her eyes and the sleeves of her shirt hanging a little loosely, as if she had lost weight. When lacey opened her mouth to speak Liz cut her off immediately, “and don’t lie to me, because you’re not mom, you don’t have the right to lie to ‘protect’ me.” Lacey looked dazed. Finally when she spoke her voice was grave but Liz recognized in it the strong intensity of her late mother “Liz, I don’t want to scare you, but I think you should know what’s coming. What I’m about to tell you, I’m telling you because I believe you have the right to know.”
She slid off the counter and came to lean against the fridge. It was as if she needed the extra support for what she was about to tell her. Liz suddenly felt like she didn’t want to know, not at all. “Lacey, you don’t have to, you’re starting to freak me out – ” Lacey interrupted her “You’ve always been so strong. So, so strong.” She was looking at Liz almost pityingly. What the hell was going on? Liz wanted to scream, but instead she remained outwardly cool and waited for her to continue. A bang sounded outside, and then the snow began to fall in buckets on the house. Lacey stiffened immediately, as if the snow were not natural, but the frozen tears of Satan himself. Lacey sprang into action, ripping the necklace our mother had given her off her neck, and reaching for her pocket to grab something, but she looked up at Liz, terrified, and seemed to think better of it. “Listen very carefully,” Lacey was whispering franticly, “Liz, take the necklace, tell no one you have it, protect it, and trust no one with it – ” a loud bang sounded outside again, and Lacey swore under her breath. “ Always remember Liz, you are the one.” She seemed to smile at this “It was never mine to keep, just to protect” She sounded choked. “Go! Run, find Ben!” She kissed Lizzie lightly on the forehead and despite her franticness; she seemed calm, ready to face whatever was coming “I love you Liz.”
“Lacey I don’t understand what’s going on, but I wont leave you!” Liz heard how whiny she sounded and almost flinched, like a child being told her mythical unicorn was just a horse, she thought. Her stubbornness was washed away as the house seemed to begin shaking, and Lizzie truly looked at her sister as if for the first time. Lacey stood tall, at least 4 inches taller than Lizzie, and where Lizzie’s hair was long and black, Lacey’s was red as fire, and at this moment she looked just about as destructive. Lacey patted her pocket and from it pulled out a short tube that she clicked. It unfurled to become a long sharp blade. Lizzie stared in undisguised awe at the object, glinting against the light of the kitchen. It seemed to be emanating an ethereal glow that tinted the room in white. With it, Lacey looked like an avenging angel, and it was not without a smirk of confidence that Lacey sneered “I can protect myself little sister.” She turned serious again “Now go! Get away. Lizzie, don’t forget… about the necklace.”
Liz clutched her necklace and took one last look at her sister. Perhaps it was instinct; perhaps it was the familiarity of this situation, but everything inside of her was telling her to run. To get as far away as she possibly could from the thing that terrified her sister. She clutched the necklace to her chest, and with the walls of the house shaking almost too hard to stay standing now, she fled. She ran down the pink hallway, and flung open the yellow door at the end. She thought just long enough to grab her coat and backpack before racing down the front steps of their brownstone.
Sounds like it could be an interesting plot, just keep working on it and KEEP WRITING.
LOVE --ULTRAVIOLET