Saccharide Heinz
Paris, France: 4th Street Cemetery
With a bouquet in my arms and my phone in one hand, I approached the entrance of the cemetery. The part near the entrance was like the garden of paradise. It was harmonious and the paint coatings on the tombs all seem freshly applied.
I carefully followed my GPS and I stopped in front of another entrance, this time the gate of entry looked like skeletons from the buried.
I exhaled and cursed under my breath, "Blood Shed, you little piece of dick, better not be lying about this..."
Entering the gate, I was immediately greeted by knee-high grasses tickling the skin under my pants. With precaution, I counted the graves and tried my best not to smash the brittle cement tombs.
1 grave...
2 graves...
3 graves...
4 graves...
At this rate, I wasn't even walking in a normal way. I bring my legs higher than the usual height when I'm walking. This is basically, sneaking through the old part of the cemetery under broad daylight.
"You are here at your destination." My phone assistant spoke; I stopped and typed something to remind me of this place.
"Oh! Bonjour Sir..." I looked up and saw a cop with a darker skin complexion and a fuzzy beard covering half his face. He was muscular with his uniform fitting well on his bumps and curves and aviator sunglasses hanging on the front of his buttoned top.
"Are you a regular visitor in this area?" he asked and gave me a kind smile.
"Non. Officer! I just visit here on certain occasions," I shifted my voice to sound like I'm an innocent teenage boy, visiting someone dead. "What seems to be the problem here?"
He took aviator sunglasses from his side pocket and put them on before answering my question, "Several complaints from neighboring citizens that gunshots were heard from here. Some people say that they even hear boys arguing and shouting..."
I listened closely, nodding when I have to. Damn Blood Shed, you gave me a thing to take care of you, you little piece of human disappointment.
"The shouting was pretty normal. Maybe teenagers just messing around, but the gunshots were not common in this area," he explained well and once again, looked at me.
"Do you notice something here Sir whenever you visit?" he interrogated me and eyed the bouquet in my arms. Thinking of a way to not look suspicious, I placed the flowers down on one of the graves and kneeled in front of it.
"I don't have the slightest clue of my surrounding whenever I'm here Sir because I was too focused on talking with my mother's tomb," I smiled. "I'm happy that she's dead-"
I wish she was...
And froze on my last part. His face secreted nothing but confusion with his mouth slightly agape and eyebrows clashing with each other.
"A-And not experiencing the incurable cancer of Sarcoma. I miss her, truly" I intentionally cracked my voice to make it look like I'm crying.
His face softens and I immediately looked down to prevent myself from beating myself mentally in the head. The grass rustles behind me so I turned around and was greeted by a typical looking old lady, wearing a polka dot patterned scarf and duster cardigan.
"Why are the cops doing here?" Her sweet yet faded voice entered my ears.
"Madame, you are the keeper here, right?" The cop asked her.
"Oui, I am," she replied.
"Have you noticing something strange like gunshots and teenagers around here at night recently. We received complaints from the people in this area" The cop explained again, hoping to get helpful answers from the keeper this time.
"Gunshots? Teenagers? I'm sorry but I didn't-" she looked down as I also looked down on the grave to avoid being interrogated again.
"Thank you both for your cooperation!" the black man sighed and adjusted his duty hat to the both of us. "I'll be going now"
I nodded and let him pass me when suddenly, the lady spoke, "But there is a girl... She always gets my attention because she's alone but it seems she's talking to someone. She visits here almost every day but she stopped coming last month."
The black muscular cop came back again with a lit-up expression and excited tone. "Can you describe the girl?" the cop requested before taking a pen and a small pad of notebook out of his pocket while I just listened with my head bowing down.
"Black hair, she always wears oversized clothes. When I look at her, she's just a normal girl but the flower that she always brings attracts butterflies in this abandoned side of the cemetery..."
Her description matched the image of the girl in my mind. The cop was jotting down the description of the lady while nodding to every word she says.
"Those flowers are not common here in our city. Only a few get to grow it here every spring." she continued narrating
"What flower is that Mademoiselle?" the cops asked. Both of us were longing for an answer.
"Carnations."
Raine...
What are you hiding here...?
What did you bury under your carnation filled garden...?
xXx
Third Person
Oeillet de règne Académie: Theatre
"I love it! You're a natural, Aksenov!"
They cheered for her as she slightly bowed to the admiration of the people inside the big room. It was a new feeling coming back, she was walking normally again and was able to act with no complications.
"You killed him! - well, literally" her best friend laughed and pointed at the extra male lead who fainted when they kissed.
"Keep it as a secret, alright?" Raine giggled and linked arms with the blondie before sitting on the stage, eating their break snacks.
It was supposed to be a fake kiss but because she was imagining Saccharide so much, the fake kiss became a French kiss in a full minute.
Her best friend gave her a bottle of water to wash her mouth from the bits of bread before she threw her arms over her shoulders. The cold water ran down her throat and she can't help but blush at the familiar feeling every time Saccharide kisses her.
'Raine! Stop you f-fu- fudging thoughts about lewd things!' she thought and mentally pinched herself.
Even in her mind, she can't think of the f word.
"Dante! RUN! Don't ever come back!" she cried fake tears and was hugged behind by the antagonist.
"Madilyn. Finally..." Romie Brazil, the male lead antagonist, kept her in one chair in the middle of the chair and tied her still.
He kissed her neck while she struggled to keep in touch with her lines without thinking it was Saccharide who was kissing her.
"With every touch, I think of him. Not you!" she recited with deep feelings. "With every word, I hear his angelic voice, Not yours!"
She violently turned her head exaggeratedly to the left side, the same moment Romie's palm made a little contact on her cheek to make it look like a real slap.
"And with every slap, I hope you think of him, NOT ME!" Romie recited his part with a deep and threatening tone.
"And... CUT!"
The cheers, claps, and whistles circulated the room again as Romie untied her off the chair and apologized for the sloppy kisses he was giving her neck. Her morning started great and she was having the best normal day at school again.
They kept rehearsing for another hour but then came rushing Klavier while she was in the middle of a conversation with Romien.
"RAINE!" the sweating male called out. "Your garden-"
Everyone's attention was caught and followed the boy outside where a cloud of black smoke covered the majority of the blue skies. He led her outside immediately and her auburn eyes couldn't believe what she was witnessing.
"My- my garden" she stuttered and fell to her knees, scraping it at the process because of the rough dirt beneath her.
It was like the representation of hell, itself.
"We don't know how it ended up in fire..." Sir Broshe whispered to her and tried calming her down. She escorted her to stand up and sit inside the faculty to drink some water while the guards put out the fire with the school's water system.
She was dizzy. They comforted her but she wasn't hearing anything other than the screams and the scorching fore enveloping her once beautiful garden.
"Raine!" Sir Broshe panicked and carried her to the nurse's office with the help of Klavier.
She fainted and the last thing she saw was the paper handed to her by Klavier. In scrawny handwriting, the words were scribbled. The paper was found near the fire, attached with a rotten burning carnation.
The piece of processed wood fell from Raine's fingers so, Romie picked it up and his pupils dilated in shock when he read the words.
The words were...
"Raine Aksenov," Romie muttered, hands still shaking. "I hope you turn like your Carnations. Into beautiful ashes..."