Chapter 15

May, 2015

"Molly! You meeting us at the union tonight?"

Molly laughed and turned. Her dark brunette hair swung behind her, the braid reaching down almost to her waist. "I've got to actually turn up to one class this term without a massive hangover you know!"

The girl she was talking to laughed in return. "Weak!" she yelled back. "You just need to learn how to hold your drink!"

"No, I can't for real tonight, Alisha. I've got plans."

"Ooh!" Alisha said excitedly. "Is it with him?" she asked as they moved to a more conversational distance.

Molly grinned. "If you're talking about Dean, then yes."

"That's five dates! Molly, you don't ever go out with a guy more than three. What's going on here?"

"Besides the gorgeous eyes and hair like David Tennant's?"

"Aha! So that's the only reason?"

"No. There's just something about him."

"I smell wedding bells."

Molly laughed. "I don't think so. Not yet."

"Yes. We'll have to get through six dates before anything is certain." Alisha grinned, her blonde hair glinting in the rare sun.

"Shut it."

"Fine," Alisha said, pretending to huff. "I'll see you tomorrow, after your date. You're telling me everything tonight. If you can," she added, waggling her eyebrows.

"Shut up Alisha and get out of here!" Molly laughed.

"Fine. I shall go sit in a corner and wait eagerly for a text."

Alisha walked away and Molly let out a sigh of relief. She loved Alisha like a sister, but sometimes she was wearing, especially when they started going on about boys. In Alisha's opinion, Molly needed to spend more time with them. In Molly's opinion, she needed to spend less time with them. She had already found the perfect guy for her. The only problem was he was thirty years in the past.

She had gotten used to the idea she may not see Tom again until she was very old. It disappointed her, but she knew that she couldn't do what she had done when she was fifteen. The scars on her arms had faded with time, but a few were still visible, deep enough to leave a slightly raised scar. No one had ever noticed them, but she still did on occasion.

She remembered how her mum had found the markings in 1983. She remembered the disappointment in her face, the hurt and grief. That alone made her not want to take a blade to her skin anymore. Combined with Evan watching her, she was over three years clean, something she was proud of.

Dreams of the eighties no longer came to her. She had not seen Tom since she'd gone off to Uni. She had not seen her mother since she was sixteen. The first night she had not dreamed of her, she had cried, but now, she was getting used to it. She had to adjust to everything in her life. That was her only option. She had been living for her mother and Evan. Evan had been delighted in her renewed social life when she started to gain friends again. He had let her have them over whenever she felt like and allowed her to go out with them as often as she wanted.

However, Evan had died a month before. He had come down with pneumonia and his immune system couldn't handle it. He had spent three days unconscious before his heart finally gave out. Molly had wept bitterly. Their relationship had been strong once more, possibly stronger than it had been when she was twelve. She had trusted Evan with everything, and he had been happy to let her talk to him.

On the day of his funeral, her father flew in once more. He had grown old in the six years since she had last seen him, his hair greying and disappearing from the front of his scalp.

Molly remembered their entire conversation word-for-word.

"I'm sorry about this, Molls."

"He was getting old," she said stoically. "I knew he was going to leave me sometime."

"But you're left all alone here."

"I've got my mates. It's better for me to stay here than jump around the world and try to start over. At least I've already got a life."

Her father nodded. "You're so grown up now. Last time I saw you, you were shoulder high."

"A lot happens in six years," she said coldly.

"I..."

She shook her head. "Not today. Not on the day the man who seemed like my dad is buried."

She had watched them leave the cemetery later, stopping when a stone caught her father's eyes. He gave a sad smile and put his hand on it, as though he was caressing it. Kneeling down on the ground, he pulled a flower out of his jacket and set it on the ground in front of the grave. Molly's eyes welled up with tears when she saw it. It was her mother's favourite flower, a summer snowflake. Maybe he did care after all.

Molly threw her keys on the table as she walked into her flat. People had wondered how she could afford this, working no job and having no one else, but Evan had set up something for her in his will. Then she'd just have to wait until she was twenty-one until her mother's trust fund kicked in.

She looked at the clock. She still had a few hours before Dean would pick her up. She stared at her almost full sketchbook, debating about whether or not to start on another drawing. Finally, she shook her head, knowing that if she started she would be unable to stop.

Sighing, she closed the notebook and turned around. Molly gave a small scream of surprise. Alex was sitting on the couch, Gene next to her. They were both staring at something, grins on their faces. Neither acknowledged her existence, just like when she dreamed about them.

"Can we please have something with grease in it tonight, Bolly? I'm sick of this rabbit food you've got me eating!"

"A few servings of fruit a day is hardly rabbit food. And you'll like dinner tonight."

He sighed and pulled her to him. "How many times do I have to tell you it's tea, Bolls?"

"As many as you want. I'm still calling it dinner."

"Cheeky mare."

She grinned at him. It remained silent until he spoke again.

"How's your book coming?"

"It's actually almost done. Just a few more chapters and I'll be all done."

"What then?"

"Then I try to get someone to publish it."

"I'll make them," Gene growled.

Alex laughed. "Thanks, Gene. I don't think your talents will be appreciated, however."

He shrugged. "A little physical intimidation won't hurt."

"Tell you what, if everyone says no, I'll let you beat them up."

Gene grinned happily. "Now you're speaking my language, Bolly."

It fell silent again, both of them staring at the same spot on the floor.

"What are you thinking about, Bolls?" he asked gruffly.

"I'm just wondering about Molly," she said softly. "How's she doing? I never get to hear from her."

"I'm doing fine, Mum," Molly said, but she knew Alex wouldn't be able to hear her.

"I'm sure she's fine, Bolly."

Alex gave a small smile. "I'm sure she is too. I just miss her."

Gene pressed a kiss to her head.

She leaned up and turned to look at him. "By the way. Tom is going to come over for dinner tonight."

"Bloody kid. We bring in one and she brings a spare."

Alex laughed and hit him on the shoulder. "You love Tom, admit it!"

He just glared at her without menace.

"Right, I guess I should start dinner," she said standing.

"No more rabbit food!" he said, standing with her.

"Alright. None of that. Hmm... How about Turkey Tetrazzini?"

She grinned and ran out of Molly's sight. Gene frowned a moment and picked something up off the floor before running after her.

"Wait Bolly! What the bloody hell is tetrazzini?"

The flat was quiet once more. Molly closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears. Her mother still remembered her, and Tom was turning into a son to them. It was perfect there.

She looked at the clock. It was probably time to start getting ready. Dean would be here in an hour. Part of her was looking forward to tonight, but there was a part that sighed inwardly. Dean was nice enough, but she was certain that he wasn't right for her. He was too nice, too polite and careful. One slip up in his grammar had him apologising like he'd vomited food all over her. Still, he was more interesting than some of the men she'd gone out with.

She sat in front of her mirror and gazed at her hair. Over the past three years it had slowly grown darker, gradually becoming the same colour as her mum's. She had no idea how it had happened, but she liked it. It was a much better colour than the mousy brown she had been stuck with.

Molly debated about what she should do with it. It was so long now, almost too long. She decided to pull it from the braid she had set it in that morning. As she ran her fingers through it, it fell into waves down her back. She looked at it and shrugged. Why not? It looked alright.

She applied her makeup, merely putting on some nude eyeshadow and mascara. Molly had never really gotten into the makeup scene. She felt fine with this, why go any further?

Grinning to herself and turning on her iPod, she turned towards her wardrobe. Molly looked for a decent outfit to wear as the last strains of Mumford & Sons The Cave faded from the speakers.

She froze as the next song started. She'd recognise that piano introduction for the rest of her life, no matter how infrequently she heard the song. As the piano cut to guitars she smiled sadly. It had been so long since she had listened to Avenged Sevenfold. She had almost forgotten about this song's existence. This song, which had defined her so perfectly, still defined her, but not like before. She started to sing along.

"So far away I've gone. Please don't follow me tonight and while I'm gone, everything will be alright."

That line, which she had always ignored, fit now. She was the one who'd gone so far away. She was reassuring Tom now, instead of her mother reassuring her. But no one could follow her here. She had been the only one in that world that was still living.

Wiping away a stray tear, she finished getting ready. Molly looked at her appearance in the mirror and nodded. She looked alright.

Molly looked at the clock. She still had forty minutes. Wondering what to do, she looked once more at the sketchbook. She grinned. She had an idea.

She went back to her room, pulling a box out of the wardrobe. The only thing in it was notebooks. She reached down to the bottom, grabbing the last one in the stack. Running her hand over the cover, she opened it and read the sloppy handwriting in the corner.

Molly Drake
Age 12

Her first sketchbook, bought soon after her mother's death. She flipped through the pages, noting how dark the pictures were, how much shading was used. Her mother's face appeared on every other page, sometimes happy, sometimes angry. In one, she was yelling at Evan.

Molly flipped through each notebook, noting how eventually her mum appeared less and less and other things started to take her place. There were a few drawings of Evan later on in the stack as well.

Finally she grabbed the notebook on the desk outside her room. All the pages were covered in different things from Uni, a lot of doodles on pages where she was supposed to be listening to an instructor. There was one dated from about a month earlier of Evan. She had drawn it when he was unconscious in hospital, planning to show it to him when he woke up. He always liked to see what she had drawn. However, he never got to see it.

A few page flips later and she was at the end of the notebook just as a knock sounded on her door.

Molly got up and opened the door, smiling at the man who stood on the opposite side. He had the brightest blue eyes and darker brown hair that was permanently ruffled. The first time she had seen it, she'd wanted to put her hands on it and just touch it. When she did, it was as fluffy as it looked.

"How are you, Molls?" he asked, offering her his arm.

"I'm doing well, thanks, Dean," she replied.

They walked down the street, chatting to each other quietly, laughing. As they reached London Road, they stopped, waiting for traffic to pass before crossing the street. Molly looked across the street and froze.

Tom was standing on the other side of the crossing.

She stared at him for a moment. He grinned and started to talk. She couldn't hear what he was saying. Not thinking, she pulled her arm out from Dean's and started to walk toward Tom.

"MOLLY!" Dean's voice yelled suddenly.

Molly looked up in time to see a bus speeding towards her. Its horn started to blare and she turned to run back towards Dean. Suddenly there was an agonising pain all over her body and then the world faded to black.