Chapter One

Slip of the tongue

She was alone but for the constant chill that burrowed into her skin and wrapped around her bones. The day knows not whether it is old or young, for the sky is cloudy and dark, it could be morning, but it may just as well be noon. A wind, invisible but oh, so violent, tried to tear at her fingers and tangles in her hair.

But she walked unhindered; she kept walking, kept moving even as the wind began to scream at her. The voice in the wind was incoherent, but a futile attempt at communication when neither knows the right language.

The girl, her name was Claudia, looked at her hand and watched with vague interest as her fingers shook. But she was always cold; it followed, slept with her and taunted her. A glove would no more cure the cold than a flea might cause the earth to quake.

Claudia walked faster, blindly, knowingly, letting her feet carry her home. It was not far, not really, she walked to and from school every day, no matter the weather. And it was the last day of school for the year, so why should anything be different?

Her uniform, sensible yet uncomfortable leather shoes, an ankle length kilt with black stockings beneath and a moss green rugby jumper over a plane white shirt. They would, like the gloves, be no more effective to keep out the chill. If it rained she would be soaked through within seconds.

But it did not rain until Claudia arrived home to her shabby, overgrown house. Her mother had not an ounce of care for the garden and it showed. Not that Claudia could complain, she herself had done nothing to fix it up. Unlocking the door, Claudia stepped inside and sidestepped the cat lying in wait for her. It was a rather odd looking cat, all fat and no tail, the colour of rust and grime and with such a bored expression that one could not miss.

The cat followed Claudia into the kitchen, jumping on the bench to watch her toss her bag to the ground and rummage in the fridge. There was no food, nothing to suggest her mother planed to cook that night.

"She's drinking, she's gambling, she's spending all the money." Claudia said to the cat, who appeared to nod in its bored way.

With a sigh that slipped from her lips like the sad little meow the cat gave her, Claudia plodded into her room. It was small, cramped, with an unhappy feel to it. Claudia sat on her bed for a moment, her stomach rumbled.

"Darn." She muttered. She would have to go to the supermarket. A quick glance told her what she already suspected; the rain was falling heavily, and would likely do so until the next morning.

She replaced her school uniform for a pair of skinny jeans and a thick jumper with a singlet beneath. Her converse, as muddy and ratty as they were, were traded from her school shoes. Feeling slightly better, yet somewhat depressed, Claudia left the house and made her way to the closest supermarket. It was locally owned and the stout man working at the register nodded to her as she entered.

The store was almost empty, occupied only by a few older men and women looking to stay out of the rain and trying to fill in the monotone by chatting by the fresh produce section of the store. Claudia went passed the snacks aisle, grabbing a bag of chips before heading over to get a drink. She stood gazing at the labels, bottle and cartons. The cold was barely noticed by her, she was already shrouded in an icy chill that crystallized her breath over lips and iced her nose red.

The cartons of milk were overlooked, as was the fizzy drinks; she searched through the orange juices and apple to reach for a black current. Her eyes slid sideways, to glance at the bottle beside it. Its label looked to be written in a foreign language, and the liquid within appeared opaque and black. She ran a finger over that illegible label and then shrugged. She held the chips and the drink and straightened.

A commotion made her turn and watched with fascination as a two figures came toward her. Their gaze searching, as she had done, the drinks, they spared her not one glance. Until the taller of the two, a young man, appeared to find what he was looking for. He came forward, had to lean around her, and grabbed two bottles with the strange label. A Goth girl was close behind him, her black rimmed eyes heavy as she swayed closer. Claudia could to help but marvel at her tattooed arms and neck. The intricate design was beautiful.

Claudia felt her fingers twitch; the man looked up at her, gave a swift, feral grin and hurried away. She did not hear the bell of the cash register, nor the hush of the doors opening and closing.

Another shrug tilted Claudia's shoulders and she shuffled to pay for her items. She did not get far before turning and looking at that strange black drink. She could not help but take it too.

***

Claudia's mother was not home when she returned. There were no notes and the fridge had not miraculously filled with food. Taking the chips and drinks to her room she closed the door and slumped on her bed. Claudia turned the small TV in the corner on and channel surfed until she came across Simpsons. It was easy to watch, and it allowed her to tune out everything else, the sound of the shower dripping and the constant creak of the front door blowing gustily in the torrential wind.

She sipped the black current juice. It was sweet, and then bitter. It went nicely with the chips. She watched Simpsons and then flicked to Bones, enjoying the mind numbed state she had fallen into.

Her eyes grew heavy and she pushed the empty packet of chips and the bottle off her bed. A heavy thunk reminded her off the black drink. She leaned over the edge of the bed to scoop it up. It was heavy in her hand, and had long since returned to room temperature. Claudia shook the bottle and then twisted the cap off. It didn't hiss as the air escape, and she could detect no bubbles.

With a careless little smile Claudia raised the drink to her lips and drank. It tasted sweet. Like honey, or sugar and chocolate. But there was an undertone of something stronger and more potent. It coated her mouth and slipped down her throat. A cherry red burst of pleasure burst through her stomach when it hit.

Claudia drank half the bottle without realising it, but she could not drink it all. It slipped from her fingers, landed on her bed where the black liquid rushed out to stain her covers. It dripped to the floor.

She blinked sluggishly, wondering why the TV was growing fuzzy. Her head dipped back, hit the pillow and stilled. The darkness that swam beneath her closed lids made her shiver violently, but then, it may have just been the cold.

I hope this story wasnt too boring, It was an idea that popped into my head and wouldnt let go. But I think I am going to enjoy writing it. That is, if anyone feels like reading and reveiwing, so please tell me what you think :)

Emily