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Story Title: The Rose On A Thorn
Chapter Number: Four
Chapter Title: Have A Ball
Author Name: Dev-Ra Alyn
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Sharon smiled at herself. The mirror reflected a devilish grin. Behind this grin was Sharons thoughts; plans on how to get rid of the two. The "Annabelle" bit seemed to be working. No suspicions were felt.
A piece of cake.
Several different idea's of how she would do away with them passed through her mind. She completely out ruled using a firearm. The neighbors in the neighborhood looked to be the nosey type. Ones that peeked through their blinds to see what kind of dirt they could dig up on everybody, then sit down and have tea with them carrying a great big plastic smile on their face. She knew that if the neighbors heard the gunshot that they would surely get in her business and call authorities. No no. This assignment has to be done quickly and silently. How... she was still uncertain of... hell, she was a creative girl, she could come up with something at the spur of a moment. No problem!
Hmm. Perhaps wire? Or may be I could dissect those aussie vocal pipes out of their neck...
Sharon then picked up her mouthwash. She poured a bit in the cap and tossed the green liquid in her mouth. Her cheeks pudged out back and forth as she swished the minty fluid around. As she spat it out into the sink a thought occurred to her...
Poison. I can poison them. Quick, easy and quiet.
Sharon looked back into the mirror. A pale face stared back at her. Eyes looked emotionless and lips were slightly chapped. She thought about this idea of hers for a while.
This could be too easy. Why would I want to make this a simple assassination? I can come up with better...or may be simple is best?
She grew tired of looking at her face. She stepped out of the bathroom and plopped down on an incredibly fluffy bed. She bounced on it a while with an odd smile on her face.
Wow. This bed is a lot softer than mine. This is actually kind of nice.
She threw back her arms and sighed. The shadows were casted over the room as the light began to grow dimmer. Her eyes felt heavy then eventually found themselves shut and her ears become more alert to the faint sound of thunder in the distance. Rain. For some reason, she never did like it when it rained. It always put her in this uneasy vibe. The best thing she could do was sleep through it and that she intended to do. Her thoughts became nothing and her mind surrendered to the blankness of her dreams which she so often dreamt.
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"We'll see her again..."
All she could hear was the sound of thunder bursting around her and a voice. Such an easy voice and so gentle, saying, "We'll see her again." Eyes would stare back at her; two pair. She watched them stare and blink. A misty shadow seeped it's way over the whites of the eyes and they grew faint until she could no longer see their comforting, yet sad, glare. An image began to appear to her. At first it was a blur and she was unable to make out what it was. Then the blurriness began to fade and the image became clear. So clear that it seemed to be staring her eye to eye from a distance. It was her, except, younger. In her late teens. Her tattoo of a rose stood out. It's symbolic purpose was to show off her love for her family in the Scarlet Rose Organization. The tattoo became vibrant and a lot clearer than herself. Every last detail was noticable and then she spotted the thorns. She never remembered there being thorns on her tattoo before. Why is it there now and so distinct? As if on cue of her thoughts, the thorns began cutting into her skin and she began to bleed. The thick crimson blood slid it's way down her neck. Sharon looked at herself. Her younger self showed no sign of pain. Instead, the blood continued to pour down her neck and a petal detached itself, gracefully floated to the floor. The lonely velvety red petal just touched the floor and immediately withered away into brown ugliness.
"I just don't want to let go..."
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Sharon's eyes fluttered open to the sound of a doorbell. Her doorbell. She pushed herself up from the bed and peeked out the blinds. All she could see were two figures standing in front of her door. She couldn't quite make out who they were, although she had a good feeling she did know.
"Probably my two targets." She whispered to herself.
Sharon grabbed her duffle bag and quickly changed her clothes and ran to the door. She slowed her pace as she neared it and swung it open revealing two smiling faces. Sharon smiled back and leaned on the door with a smirk on her face.
"Hello boys. Can I help you?" Sharon moodily asked the three boys standing in front of her.
Two of the boys looked to be in their mid teens and the other looked to be way younger. He was short which is probably why she didn't see him.
"Yeah, Jaron tossed my football into your backyard. I was wondering if you could retrieve it for us." The older boy answered.
"Your football? Our football. And I didn't throw it into her backyard." Jaron, the second oldest, defended in a slightly hoarse voice.
"That's right. I said you tossed it."
The two boys began to bicker more and Sharon just sighed at their immaturity. She never remembered being that immature growing up. But then most kids aren't taught to kill. She looked down at the quiet little boy standing in between the two, they seemed to tower over him. His eyes looked up at Sharon, innocent and unsure.
"Can we please have our ball back?" He wimpered.
The two quarrelling boys silenced to hear if she would oblige. Her eyes fixed on the older boys.
"Why didn't you just get it yourself?" She asked, trying not to sound as moody as before.
"Well, there's kind of this problem with our neighbors and us hopping over their fence and into their yard. They just don't like it. Even if it is to get a ball." Jaron informed.
"And we're tired of our mother yelling at us to stop going into their yards." The oldest piped in.
Sharon thought for a short moment then gave them a warm smile and invited them in. The boys politely thanked her for she was a lot nicer than the other neighbors were. They tagged along behind her as she lead them to the glass sliding door to the back of the house, occassionally looking around at the emptiness. Sharon slid the glass door to the side and offered the passage to the backyard. The oldest stepped out and looked back into the house.
"You aren't really spending anytime unpacking are you?" He asked referring to the many dusty and sealed boxes laying around in the vacant rooms he passed.
"I just moved in."
"Oh, well, welcome to the neighborhood. I suggest going back to where ever you came from though, cause this neighborhood is the pits." He said as he walked out further into the backyard. "Everybody is on everybody's case here. Mom's always arguing with pop's about not having any privacy what-so-ever."
"Is that so?"
"Sure is." He looked over by a bush in the corner of the yard to see his football nestled in the wet limbs. "There it is."
The other boys walked around the perimeter as he ran to grab the ball. He ran back over to Sharon who was leaning against the glass. He slammed the football into the base of his other hand causing a loud smack sound and he nodded a bit, agreeing to the fact that he liked this new neighbor.
"My name is Jeremy." He said with a smug look on his face.
"Sh... Annabelle."
"Hey Jeremy!" Jaron called gathering both Jeremy and Sharon's attention. He held up a bright greenish-yellow colored ball that fit just right in his hand. "Look, it's that tennis ball Ben threw over the fence a few weeks ago!"
Sharon's attention went straight to the little boy that stood just a few feet in front of her. Staring at her with his hazel-brown eyes. She felt something familiar about his name and his eyes triggered familiarity as well. She shrugged it away as Jaron and Jeremy approached the sliding door. They all went back inside and she showed them back out through the front door. Jeremy turned to Sharon and flashed her a big smile.
"Thanks for letting us get our ball back. We never get neighbors so nice..." He trailed off a bit as he started to walk away. As Sharon began to shut the door, Jeremy turned back around to her, still walking and making sure not to slip on the wet grass, he finished. "... and so pretty."
Sharon smiled as she closed the door and took a seat on one of the card board boxes. She found it quite humorous that he took a liking to her. Then she thought about the little one. Ben. How oddly familiar he seemed to be. Not him himself, but the little things, like his name and those eyes. She ran her fingers through her short auburn hair and sighed to herself.
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"She was kind of weird." Jaron announced as he tossed the ball.
Jeremy caught it and replied, "I thought she was really cool."
"Yeah well, you're weird anyway." Jaron watched as Jeremy tossed the ball back to him and caught it. As he went to throw the ball, he turned towards Ben who was sitting quietly on the front step. "What did you think of her, Ben?"
Ben looked up at Jaron. "She was nice." He softly spoke.
"See, even Ben thinks she alright." Jeremy tossed the ball back. "It's you man. You're the one that's weird." He then caught the ball again. "Did you see that cool tattoo on her neck?"
"You mean that stupid rose?" Jaron asked.
"It's not stupid, it looks cool and it's bigger than usual. You know how girls always get those small rose tattoo and they put them on their ankles or something? Her's was BIG and on her neck. Image how much that hurt and costs!"
"It was a waste of many for her to get a tattoo on a big stupid rose, if you ask me. I would have gotten this cool dragon on my back." Jaron said as he turned around to show Jeremy the area of the back he wanted the dragon at.
Jeremy smacked the ball on his right hand. "Yeah right. You wouldn't be able to stand the pain." He then threw the football at Jaron's back causing him to hollar in pain.
"OUCH!! What'd you do that for, freak?" Jaron whined as he turned back around to face a smiling Jeremy.
"To prove my point, retard."
"You better stop calling each other names or I'm gonna tell." Ben taunted as he remained seated on the step.
Jaron picked up the ball sitting nicely on the fresh green grass. "You know where you can stick your point, man." He then threw the ball hard and it soared over Jeremy's head. All three boys (Jeremy turned completely around) watched as the ball landed in the neighbors backyard across the street.
Jeremy turned back to Jaron. "It landed Mr. & Mrs. Franklyns yard.You're getting that!" He said while throwing his right arm up and pointing to the neighbors house.
"Oh, no I'm not. You can go get it."
"Man, you're the one that threw it over there. Go get the ball!" Jeremy commanded with frustration.
"NO!!"
"I'm telling mom what you did!" The normally silent Ben then shot up from the steps and raced inside the house; the other two boys followed as Jaron prepared to defend himself.
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The sound of the boys feet running through the house was distracting her from the call. She place her finger in the unocuppied ear and continued talking. Her sepia colored brown hair was tied up out of her face and her eyes darted around the living room as she paced around in front of the kitchen counter. The chord to the phone would stretch a little ways as she paced back and forth and the footsteps got loud as they ran across the kitchen tile..
"Mommy, mommy!" Ben ran up to his mom and grabbed the bottom of her shirt.
She looked down at him and whispered, "Not right now, honey. Mommy's on the phone." She then returned the finger to her ear and continued the conversation with the caller.
"But Jaron & Jeremy threw their football in the Franklyn's backyard and their calling each other names!" He blurted as the two older boys stopped by their mother.
"Nuh-uh, mom! I didn't throw the ball in their backyard! It was Jaron!" Jeremy defended.
"Hey! Don't blame all this on me! It's not even my ball!" Jaron added loudly.
"Oh, so now it's not our football anymore?" Jeremy asked sarcastically.
All three boys argued and complained to their mother who really wasn't listening.
"I think she's ignoring us." Jaron said.
"You're getting that ball back." Jeremy concluded.
"Shut up."