Bright Obscurity

by Ruby Brown

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  BRIGHT OBSCURITY

  First edition. April 15, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 Ruby Brown.

  ISBN: 978-1386357940

  Written by Ruby Brown.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 1

  The moment Mal walked into her house, she wanted to walk straight back out again. The depressing atmosphere that filled the house was suffocating, poisoning every thought and word and making her hands shake so badly she almost dropped her schoolbag as she lowered it onto the couch.

  “I’m home,” she called cautiously into the house as she took off her shoes. The sound of her voice was far too loud and it cut through the restless silence in an almost vicious fashion, ripping it to shreds.

  “In here, Mallika,” said Abigail, her foster mum, from the kitchen. Mal felt her heart drop. Abigail only ever called her by her full name in times of great stress or sadness, and today was a bit of both. Mal could hear the forced happiness in her voice and it made her want to cry.

  Today was the birthday of her foster brother, Felix. Or it would have been. Mal had been the one to find the body. She remembered it so clearly: the bright scarlet blood that poured from the knife wound in his back and stained the brown dirt below his broken body, the way his last breath rattled and shook as it left his lungs and the way his eyes glazed over once all his life had drained away. Mal hated to think that the last sound he ever heard was her screaming out in desperation for someone to come and help them, but help never came and he died in her arms.

  Taking a deep breath, Mal walked into the kitchen. The light streaming through the windows illuminated the cookbooks and unwashed dishes littering every surface. Since Felix’s death, the house plants that Mal’s dad had cared for so lovingly had become neglected, and now they rested upon the window sill in various states of decay. The putrescent smell of their blackened leaves mingled with the scent of the strong coffee her mum always drank.

  Mal’s parents both looked up as she entered the kitchen. Abigail was dressed in sweatpants and an old, oversized plaid shirt, her curly red hair tied up in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Upon her face she wore a fake smile that would have been convincing if it weren’t for the heartbreak in her brown eyes and the way her hands were shaking as she laid them on the table. Mal weakly attempted to return her smile, but she couldn’t handle the pain in her mother’s gaze, so she looked across to her foster father. He had glanced at Mal briefly when she entered the room, but now his gaze was firmly fixed on the floor, as if he was scared of what he would find if he looked up. He was tall and skinny with short brown hair. He kept pushing his rectangular gold rimmed glasses up his nose, the way he did when he was nervous. Mal felt sorry for him. He used to be respected as a man of great scientific knowledge, but Felix’s death had stripped away all of his confidence and genius. He spent most of his days holed up in his office, surrounded by the books he used to love, staring out the window and smoking as his precious artefacts gathered dust. Mal felt that he blamed himself for Felix’s death. He had been at the park with them that day.

  “Sit down, darling. Tell us about your day,” Abigail said. Behind the joyful tone she tried to project, her voice was tired and strained. “School wasn’t too much for you, was it?” she added anxiously. She had tried to get Mal to stay home that morning, but Mal had refused.

  “No, it was okay,” Mal lied, clenching her fists under the table and digging her nails into her skin.

  Mal knew her parents were desperate for something to distract them, so she stayed at the table for another hour or so, doing her best to talk to them, trying to fill the empty silence with her words, but eventually she gave up. The atmosphere of the room was making her head spin and her heart ache. She felt like the walls were closing in. Mumbling an excuse, she left the table and hurried to her room, shut the door and fell onto the blue sheets of her bed, curling around her pillow in an attempt to not feel so alone.

  Mal’s room was neat and tidy, the only refuge from the clutter that polluted every other corner of the house. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the high ceiling, blinking back tears. She turned her head to look at the photograph of Felix that was perched on her bookshelf. Sitting up, she grabbed it and held it in her hands, staring at him.

  Even though Felix was only her foster brother, they had always looked alike with curly black hair, dark skin and brown eyes. Mal had been adopted by Abigail and Peter when she was seven, and Felix had been eight. Mal stayed and stared at the photograph for a while longer, letting herself drown in the memories of her brother, spiralling further and further into the deep abyss of nostalgia.

  Mal’s phone, which was resting next to her on the bed, started ringing. Jolted from her thoughts, Mal picked it up and looked at the caller ID. It was her best friend, Claire. She answered the call, hoping that her voice sounded normal. “You abandoned me at school,” Mal accused her friend, forcing herself to sound joyful.

  “I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Claire said. Her voice was slightly muffled, like she was talking quietly, and there was a lot of strange background noise that Mal had never heard before.

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “The train station, it’s really crowded,” Claire said.

  “Why weren’t you at school?”

  “I was sick this morning, but I’m better now.”

  “That’s good,” Mal said.

  There was a moment of silence, and then Claire said carefully “so how are you feeling?”

  Mal didn’t answer. She didn’t want to talk about this.

  “Mal? You still there?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m...fine I guess. How are you?” Mal asked. Claire had been a close friend of Felix’s. The three of them had done everything together as they grew up.

  “I’m okay. Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to go out and do something to get your mind off of things. Maybe we could go down to the mall?”

  “Yeah, that’d be great,” Mal said quickly. Even though the mall had always been a bit too crowded and claustrophobic for her tastes, she was desperate to get out of the house.

  “Can I meet you there?” Claire asked.

  “Sure. I’ll see you later,” Mal said, and ended the call.

  Mal changed out of her school clothes and put on a pair of old jeans and an old band t-shirt that Felix used to wear. It still smelled like him. Smiling sadly, Mal pulled on her shoes and came out of her room. Her dad had gone off somewhere, but Mal’s mum turned around as she came into the kitchen and her eyes immediately went to the shirt Mal was wearing. Abigail’s whole body s
tiffened and her fists clenched. Mal regretted putting the shirt on and self-consciously crossed her arms over it.

  “Um...mum? I’m just going to go hang out with Claire, okay?” Mal said nervously.

  Abigail tore her eyes away from the t-shirt and looked at Mal’s face. Her expression hardened and her eyes flashed. “Fine,” she said, her tone sharp as a razor blade, and she turned away.

  “Mum?” Mal asked, confused.

  “Just go,” Abigail said, her voice choked and strained.

  Mal looked at her mum for a few more seconds, and then walked to the door and left the house. As soon as she stepped outside she felt so much better. She joined the throng of people on the crowded city street, her shoes clicking on the pavement. The bright colours and loud noises that surrounded her were a welcome distraction from her thoughts. The air was perfumed with the flowers blooming in the trees, just about masking the scent of the petrol coming from the cars zooming past and the noxious fumes floating up from the glowing tip of the cigarettes everyone seemed to be holding. Each time Mal passed someone on the street that had a cigarette, she held her breath, a habit she’d had since she was a kid.

  As she weaved through the crowded streets, Mal got the feeling that she was being watched. Looking to her left, she noticed with a jolt that there was a boy leaning up against a building and looking at her. Not just looking, but staring, unblinking as his eyes followed her down the street. He was wearing a white shirt underneath a leather jacket and a pair of blue jeans. His brown eyes, the same colour as his hair, burned with intense emotion.

  He’s probably checking me out Mal thought with disgust, self-consciously adjusting her shirt and looking the other way. She could still feel the boys’ eyes on the back of her neck, but she didn’t turn around. She just started walking faster.

  The boy watched her go, and then when she was a safe distance away he started to follow her. He kept his footsteps light on the pavement, quiet enough so Mal didn’t notice she was being followed. He tried to appear casual and disinterested but his footsteps were a little too purposeful and his eyes a little too sharp. He kept looking back at Mal, careful not to let her out of his sight. He would even push people aside, ignoring the protests, just to keep the target in his line of sight.

  Mal had pushed all thoughts of the boy from her mind and was looking forward to getting down to the mall. After Felix’s death she pretty much just shut herself in her room and refused to go out because she couldn’t stand being around crowds of people. As a result, she hadn’t been to the café in ages.

  As she approached the café, still being followed by the crowd of people, Mal smiled when she recognised Claire who was standing next to the door and looking impatient. Her green eyes scanned the crowd, supposedly looking for Mal. She reached up to tuck a piece of her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ear, and as she did her friendship bracelet slid down her wrist. Mal had a matching bracelet on her own wrist. Mal’s bracelet was black and blue with a silver star charm attached to the end. Claire’s bracelet had a matching charm, but her bracelet was pink and blue.

  As Mal approached her Claire looked up and smiled. As she looked up, the crowd following Mal ducked behind buildings and bins, cowering behind whatever cover they could find to avoid her gaze. There was a potent sadness in Claire’s eyes, but she was trying to be strong for Mal, just like Mal was trying to be strong for her. As soon as Mal was close enough Claire seized her and pulled her close, her arms wrapped around Mal’s waist. Mal hugged her back and they stayed like that for longer than they usually would, unspoken words of comfort flowing between the two of them. Eventually Claire let go, but she kept one hand on Mal’s shoulder. Her eyes glanced down at what Mal was wearing, and she smiled again. “Nice shirt,” she said softly, and then used her hand to steer Mal into the mall. Neither of them noticed as the boy followed them into the building with practised, stealthy movements.

  It was customary for Mal and Claire to go and get free samples at the tea store directly across from the main entrance, so they started to walk towards the shop, their shoes clicking on the tiles. The people were a little too loud and large in number and a strange chemical-like smell undercut the scent of new clothes. The fluorescent lights were a little too bright as they illuminated giant billboards of models, making Mal feel self-conscious of the way her thighs rubbed together in her jeans, but even so she smiled as she looked around the building. It felt good to be out of the house and around people, and the constant chatter, bright lights and even brighter colours distracted her from her thoughts.

  They entered the tea shop and made a beeline for the assortment of iced and hot teas with signs asking customers to try some. They each took a miniature glass and filled it up with the teas, experimenting by mixing the flavours. Brightly coloured boxes of tea leaves lined the walls and tables displaying ridiculously expensive but very nice-looking kitchenware. Mal started laughing at the expression on Claire’s face when she took a sip of a very bitter green tea, and suddenly she caught sight of the same man that had been staring at her on the street. He was looking very uncomfortable as a staff member with curly brown hair, red lipstick and heavy eyeliner practically shoved kettles up his nose, encouraging him to buy one.

  The man made eye contact with Mal, and every muscle in her body tensed. She didn’t know what it was, but there was something about him that made her intensely uncomfortable. She quickly looked away and quietly said “hey Claire, can you see the man talking to the girl with brown hair?”

  Claire glanced upwards and then said “yeah, what about him?”

  “There’s something weird about him. He was staring at me in the streets and I think he must have followed us in here.”

  Claire scoffed. “Mal, you’re being paranoid. It’s probably just a coincidence he’s here, and it probably just looked like he was staring at you.”

  Mal hummed in agreement and grabbed a kettle full of a deep red tea and poured some into her cup. She was a little hurt that Claire wasn’t taking her seriously, but at the same time Claire rarely took anything seriously. Mal was still convinced there was something wrong with the situation, but she kept quiet and drank her tea. She didn’t want to annoy her friend by overreacting and forcing them to leave the shop.

  Claire’s phone started ringing, so she picked it up and checked the caller ID. “It’s my mum,” she said, faintly annoyed. Looking up at Mal, she asked “do you mind if I take this outside? It’s a little loud in here.”

  Mal nodded and so Claire walked outside, answering the phone as she went. Mal started searching for a box of the same tea she had just drank, but the longer Claire stood outside the more uncomfortable she became. She kept glancing over at the man who had managed to lose the salesperson and was now edging closer and closer to where Mal was standing. Frowning, she walked to the other side of the store, turning her back on the man and trying to convince herself that it was all in her head and she was completely safe. Claire was right; it was just coincidence that he was here. She was being stupid, it didn’t mean anything, and she was completely safe...

  The man appeared next to her. Shocked, Mal tried to move away, but then she felt the cold metal of a gun burning her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt. “Don’t fucking move,” the man growled in her ear, his voice trembling with excitement. She froze, fighting back the tidal wave of fear that threatened to engulf all rational thought and drag her trembling body to the dark depths of her terrified mind.

  “Keep shopping as if nothing is happening,” the man hissed and Mal’s hands jumped to action, scuttling over the products in front of her, picking things up just to place them down again. Next to her, the man casually picked up a box of tea and inspected it before speaking again. “In a few minutes, I want you to start walking out of here and go to the bus stop just outside. That’s where my friends will pick us up. Do you understand?”

  Mal nodded slightly, not trusting herself to speak. She knew that her voice would be shaking just as much as her
hands and she didn’t want to show him just how afraid she was.

  “Start walking, and don’t do anything stupid. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for a long time, and I won’t let you fuck it up.”

  Mal started walking and the man sheathed his gun as she left. After a few moments he followed her, being careful to keep her within shooting range as she strolled across the shop floor. Mal made eye contact with everyone she passed, hoping that they would stop and help her, but they either just smiled politely or looked faintly irritated. Mal’s mind was racing, frantically trying to think of a way out of this situation. Suddenly, her eyes fell on a large table in the middle of the shop, showcasing some new kitchenware items that had just come in. Careful not to act suspiciously, she stretched her fingers out as she passed the table and managed to grab hold of the handle of a shiny new saucepan. Before the man could process what was happening, Mal swung it around and hit him across the face, leaving a dull red mark on his cheek. While he was still stunned she lunged forward and started viciously hitting him with the saucepan, aiming for his head and putting everything she had into each hit.

  The man seized hold of her wrist and twisted her arm around so it was behind her back. Quickly, Mal turned in the direction of her free arm and struck out with her elbow. It hit his nose and scarlet blood spurted from his face as he staggered backwards.

  “Get out! He has a gun!” Mal yelled, and pandemonium spread across the shop. Everyone raced for the door and shouted at the people outside to get as far away as possible. The pounding of feet and the shrill, high-pitched shrieks of fear were all Mal could hear. She joined the crowd running to the door; her heart beating so hard in her chest it was almost painful. The man’s hand lashed out and grabbed her t-shirt, pulling her towards him. Mal cried out and managed to catch the attention of the same brown-haired sales assistant she had noticed earlier.

  “Hey! Let her go!” she yelled, picking up a nearby plate and ditching it at his head. The man roared in pain as it hit him square in the face and shattered, the pieces littering themselves in Mal’s tangled hair. His eyes were burning with a primitive fury as he raised his gun and fired two shots. The girl swayed on the spot for a moment before she collapsed, her face a mask of shock and anger, blood pooling around her lifeless body and staining the white shirt she wore.