The Fractured Hour - Part I

'And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.' 

~ Khalil Gibran

Daniel Bennet had a hatred for two things in particular. The first, was of politicians. The second was of suits. He knew the reason that these two particulars coincided was simply due to the fact that politicians wore suits. 

I'm warning you Daniel, if you spoil this today.

It was the third time that day that Daniel had replied the same part of a lecture from his father over in his head. With a sigh, Daniel pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and skimmed the screen for any sign of a text. None of his friends had spoken to him in weeks because of the stupid election. His father had ruined so much for him. Most of all, Daniel was angry at his father for making him wear a suit. 

"Hello buddy. All ready and prepared for the conference? You look very dapper," Mr Bennet tapped Daniel on the shoulder as he encircled the sofa looking with a grin on his face. Smug, Daniel thought to himself. His father hadn't won the election yet. 

"Don't screw your suit up on the sofa, that's it... sit up properly," he instructed. With complete disregard for his father's comment, Daniel pretended to study the screen of his phone with immense interest. Surely, in a few moments his mother would enter the room and save him. That way, he could avoid any further attempts at conversation with his father. Opposed to Daniel's father, his mother was a statue of modesty. 

"Ah, hello darling," Jemima Bennet strode into the room with her arms flailing as she kissed her husband formally on the cheek and straightened his tie.

"Ready for the off, my sweet?" Daniel's father asked, to which she nodded. At her affirmation he left the room, with a careful look at his watch as he went. Jemima turned her attention to her son. 

"Please be on your best behaviour this afternoon," she cautioned. Daniel gave a clipped nod in reply. Why did she always think he was going to mess things up for everybody else? He thought to himself. With a half-hearted smile, Jemima followed Daniel's father out of the room and into the hallway of the house. 

"Come on!" Daniel heard his father call. He didn't resist the urge to roll his eyes. Although he knew that William Bennet only spoke to people in lists, usually a list of demands (politician's rhetoric, Jemima called it) Daniel still found it most irritating when he was repeatedly told what to do. At seventeen, he still remembered the way his father treated him in the same fashion. In his eyes, Daniel was still a child. And what was worse: a child in a suit.

Pretending should have been left to the children; and this Daniel knew. Yet, he found himself trapped in a day where the only thing he was expected to do was stand there and look like he was happy to be there. "Come on!" his father's voice called again, more urgently the second time. If he made it through the day without saying a word of honesty then it would all be ok; and more importantly his Daniel Bennet could come home and get changed out of the suit.

"It's almost impossible for one to imagine one's self in a predicament where they haven't, at least once in their lives felt suffocated," the speech had begun. Daniel held the glass of white wine in his hand. Under the strict gaze of his mother he wouldn't dare drink from it. By whilst his father made his speech, he found it comforting to watch the liquid swill around the bottom of the glass - like a fish that had suddenly begun to drown. 

"But the Forward party wants to eliminate these feelings for people in the community, at home and at work. We want to tackle the rising unemployment, the instability of the family unit," the rest of the words fell upon Daniel's deaf ears. When his father opened his mouth, he had a habit of shutting them off. He gazed around the room at the multiple groups of men and women. The women in the colourful, lacy or gauzy dresses and then the men: in their suits. Every one of them looked just as overdressed and ridiculous as he felt.

After all, they had all gathered just to watch his father and a few other men stand up and talk. It wasn't that interesting; or that great an occasion. 

"Excuse me," Daniel addressed his mother as he ushered himself out from his seat and weaved around the back of the crowd to the EXIT door, to the gardens outside of the building. There, he fumbled in his pocket for the packet of cigarettes and lighter that lived there. His mother would have killed him before letting him do it, but she was never observant enough to truly keep an eye on Daniel. He removed a single, slender cigarette and placed it comfortably between his lips. Daniel paused a few seconds before bringing the lighter up to the amber end of the cigarette and watched as the flame sprang into life. The initial drag was the God send, because it made him forget about whatever else was happening at the time. After that, the rest was just a blur and the world replaced by a single cylinder of smoke and flame.

"You shouldn't do that you know," a voice made him start; and he turned to see a young girl stood beside him. For a moment, his paranoid mind entertained the possibility that his mother had found him. In that case, he would have gone straight to hell. Instead, the girl next to him looked about his age, had long blonde hair and a soft face. Her eyes were a dazzling blue and she had a bright smile to match. She wore a long, but thin gown of what appeared to be pink silk. She looked beautiful.

"Shouldn't do what?" he asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Smoke," she replied. As she said the words, Daniel watched her remove the cigarette from his lips; and place it between her own. She took a long drag and let the smoke rest in her body before it appeared in the air between them again, moments later.

"I know it's bad for you, but it's one of those things that I can't help but commit to," Daniel spoke, he felt the need to barrage the silence.

"Nice to see someone around here so determined," the girl laughed and took another drag from the cigarette. Daniel removed the pack from his pocket and offered her one of his own. She declined. 

"I told you, you shouldn't smoke. That's why I don't," she added, a smile played across her lips as her fingers closed around the tip of a stick.

"Yes well. Do you have a name?" The phrase had sounded better in his head than in actuality. 

"Yes I suppose I do," she nodded, sucking the final moments of life out of the remains of Daniel's cigarette.

"And do you ever tell anyone what it is?" 

"Only a select few. And besides, those select few have to earn it."

As she spoke, Daniel found himself staring at her lips. There was something hypnotising about the way she talked, as if she invented each new word when she said it. "You should be careful, getting yourself muddled up with people you don't belong with," the girl continued. For a moment, the warning style of her speech reminded Daniel of his mother. 

He shook his head at the unwanted thought. Daniel had closed his eyes momentarily and when he opened them again the girl had gone. Strange, that she should have been able to walk away so quickly. No human could have moved so fast. Daniel scoffed at his own bewilderment and made his way back to the conference room. 

Within the next fifty seconds, Daniel's body lay cold on the floor outside that EXIT door of the conference building. A gash formed on his head where the girl had hit him. It only took two hours for his body to be found - much to the horror of his mother and the mild irritation of his father.