Harridan

The signature firm knock sounded on Kieran's grey door but she stayed burrowed under her covers. James came in was met with muffled sobbing and snorting thick snot. He sighed then shut the door behind him. His jacket that was draped over his arm, was set over the white upholstered leather seat at his glass table. "Maggie, I think Kieran should stay home today," he voiced whilst resetting his espresso machine. Magnolia slowed down her typing but didn't stop. "With everything going on..." Magnolia puckered her lips. "I can work from home and keep an eye on her."

"I know she's not the easiest to bond with, but bribing her is not going to speed things up."

"She watched her only friend die and people think she did it? I think that warrants a day off from school."

Magnolia rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Anna, could you make sure Kieran's getting ready?" The housekeeper shot James a weak grimace before obeying. "James," Magnolia persisted. "I know you mean well but don't tell me how to parent, when you don't have kids," she hissed and packed away her laptop.

"Magnolia..."

"I have a meeting with my editor," she cut in then motioned to leave.

James scoffed as Anna came down the stairs. "Your problem is you two are exactly alike," he commented, halting Magnolia. Anna's eyes went wide and she looked between them. Magnolia left for work. Anna sighed then picked up Magnolia's discarded coffee mug. "Is Kieran up?"

Anna nodded ruefully. "Unfortunately." James set his coffee aside and put his hands through his hair. "It's her last game; she's been looking forward to it all week. And with this going on...?" Anna sighed. "I just hope she gets through the day without any hiccups."

"What time is her game?"

"Six-ish. I was planning on leaving just after five, though. Traffic and all that."

James gave a curt nod. "We'll drive over together," he directed, hearing Kieran trek down his wooden staircase.

Her hair was haphazardly done and the bags around her eyes were equally as black as the off-the-shoulder dress she had on underneath the motorcycle jacket. Anna didn't hesitate to wrap her in a tight hug. Kieran sniffled before turning to leave. "You don't want breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Kieran," James called. He jogged after her to catch her at the door. He handed a few notes from his wallet. "At least have something to eat before class. Energy bar, breakfast bagel, but something."

"I blame you for this. For Blaine," was all Kieran said, softly, then slammed the door behind her.

Kieran took off on her bike, dreading the day that was coming. Her drive ended too quickly, even with the early morning traffic. She swallowed hard when she cruised through the senior parking with the judging glances pointed at her. Kieran pulled into the parking bay that had her name on it, K. Arclight, the way all senior parking bays were designated. The exception was Blaine's parking bay which was privileged by the doors, and read: School President Blaine Sulkin. It was empty; a first.

The soccer defender kept her helmet on and her head hung low as she made through the halls. That didn't lighten the whispers or scowls that came her way. Students and a meek few teachers were shamelessly on about her. At her locker, Kieran sifted through her books after stuffing her soccer kit inside. She shrank under the scrutinising eyes around and kept her, now, helmet-free head down. The shrubbery of black curls trailed down to her ribs as helplessly as she felt. Shutting her locker, Kieran saw the cut-out newspaper article Magnolia had written for the New Bristol Buzz:

Mayor Roddrick Heathcoat's charity father-daughter dance ended in tragedy, with the murder of New Bristol High senior and student body president, Blaine Sulkin. Police were called to town hall Friday evening, around 08:00 PM. The eighteen-year-old was found at the address but pronounced dead at the scene, paramedics said. Police tried to question Kieran Arclight on suspicion of causing or allowing serious injury to her classmate but were interrupted for undisclosed reasons. When questioned on the matter, the father of the deceased - who is also police chief Peter Sulkin, a fellow partygoer - refused to comment.

She ripped it off and tossed it before making for her... tedious... ploddingly... unhurried... largo... of a day with fault-finding eyes and condemnatory whispers from censorious classmates. The one thing that was vividly missing from the day was the table of $4 cupcakes at the bronze statue of the school mascot. Game day felt a little grimmer without that trivial tradition. The cleaning staff, teaching staff and students went about their day missing that little ray of sunshine on the very overcast day.

Kieran passed her locker - from world's history to AP French - to find the word MURDERER spraypainted down the length of her locker in big, bold serial killer letters, in a bright red colour. Sniggers and soft laughs, but mostly endless whispers followed her. Kieran took repeated exaggerated breaths; she saw the shadows on her fingers start to grow. Stiffly she ventured deeper into the school. Kieran continued with her drastic, calming breaths right into her next class.

The micellular-sized AP French class - five students in total - filled and Kieran bit back tears behind her anthology. She untucked her riding gloves and snuck her hands into them. Charlie E, Charlie R, Marie and Samuel made a point of sitting away from her; not without noticing her gloomy air. Kieran continued taking deep breaths and tried ignoring them, and their teacher who was scanning over his bookshelf.

Mr. Beaumont set his fresh cup of coffee on his desk then gave a booming clap. "Pop quiz," he bellowed, earning jeers and booms from four other students. "Unprepared reading! Dr. Eggman tells me you recently finished Dorian Grey, so for your unprepared reading, you will each read a random page out of, drum roll please!" Nobody complied and Mr. Beaumont frowned his dismay. "We will be reading, Le Portrait de Dorian Grey. Any volunteers?"

"The killer-- I mean Kieran. Golly," Charlie R replied falsely. Marie sniggered at her but Charlie E didn't hold back his laugh.

"Thank you, Arclight," Mr. Beaumont replied and held out the book to her. "Chapter eight."

Kieran sighed taking the vintage copy of the reader and dejectedly complied. Kieran read the page softly with tears filling her eyes, reading Lord Henry tell Dorian of Sibyl's death. Feeling Dorian's pain ripple through her. His tears were her tears, his woes were hers. Kieran sniffled and clenched a fist - choking down her capabilities - as she read. She sighed when she concluded the page and all but stuffed it back into Mr. Beaumont's hand. She grabbed her backpack and stormed out, sobbing down the vacant hallways.

Kieran slowed down in a stretch of corridor and hugged herself with uncontrollable tears down her cheeks. One of the lockers was decorated with candles and flowers. There were also PostIt notes plucked onto the locker with goodbye messages on them. Kieran sniffled the walked up to it; three short days ago she stood there. Hogging down a team spirit cupcake with Blaine mocking her crush on Logan. It was then Kieran remembered her missed date with him.

A photograph of Blaine and her huge emerald eyes and bright grin was stuck on her locker. Right above was one message: You were there when my parents split. You were Mel’s debutante partner when Ryan got food poisoning. You helped Gretchen with her biology project. A second one was: The school won’t ever be the same without you. Another read, To the rose among the thorns. Kieran rain her gloved her fingers over that smile that could make sunshine envious.

Kieran leaned into the locker and bit her lip. "I'm so, so sorry," she mumbled. "I never wanted to hurt you." Kieran backed away. "There's so much I wish I told you. About..." Kieran sighed and examined her thick gloves "... whatever this is. Whatever I am." Kieran left the locker, trailing her fingers over Blaine's warm smile. "Please forgive me. You were all I had."

She hid in the bathroom with her knees arched up to her chest and cried to herself for the rest of the period. The meditative breathing reined in the shadows but not the mourning. Kieran squared her shoulders when the bell tolled, feeling her hunger. Kieran braced herself to face her vandalised locker and the crowd that no doubt gathered. She left the stall to find Yasmine doing her lip gloss. Yasmine sized her up coldly, seeing the red in Kieran's face.

Kieran exhaled heavily after she exited and saw Blaine's locker filling with more decor. Unlike hers, that was still emboldened with MURDERER on it. Her hollowed stomach gurgled painfully, matching the groan that came from the locker hinges. She sighed then stuffed her books back inside. Kieran came face-to-face with her helmet. It would be so easy to leave, she thought. To walk out and just disappear. The thought was disrupted by a knock on her locker door.

Donnie rounded her and stood facing her. Kiern brushed her hair roughly to cover her face. She could sense how tense he was; so rigid that he stood dead still. Kieran couldn't feel whether he was breathing or not. "I just wanted to see if you were okay, despite the circumstances," Donnie admitted. Kieran's lips parted but she still refused to meet his eyes. "Look, I know we don't know each other that well but, Blaine..." Donnie saw Kieran stiffen at her name. He sighed. "I know it wasn't you." Kieran tucked her lips with tears burning her eyes. "Rie..."

"Go away," she stammered. "... P-please..."

Donnie cupped her shoulder after brushing away her hair. "You didn't just lose your friend. I lost the only woman I ever loved." Kieran's teary eyes looked up his towering height to meet a pair of equally red sclera around the hazel irises. "You don't need to hide that pain from me," he added. Tears streamed down her full cheeks. His thumbs rubbed them away. "It's okay," he whispered.

"I never meant for it to happen," Kieran confessed. "I would n-never hurt..."

Donnie cupped her cheek, making her skin singe. Kieran winced. Kieran jerked away. Kieran touched the burn, just before her ear. They both studied the ring on Donnie's ring finger: iron. He quickly took off his ring. On the ring, Kieran saw, was an intricate P. The all too familiar sigil of the proctors. Donnie’s eyes went wide at the small burn before Kieran's attention turned to his eyes. Kieran covered the mark on her face and started breathing heavily.

“Sorry,” Donnie replied timidly while slipping the ring into his baseball jacket's pocket. “I swear I didn’t intentionally do that.” Kieran clenched her hand into a fist. "R-Rie..." The fluster grew too much and the veins around her eyes dyed darker. Before Donnie could react, Kieran stormed off. “I really am sorry!”

Kieran let out small puffs of black as she exited the school building for the soccer field. She sat on the bleachers that would soon be jam-packed with supporters. Her panting drowned out the whispering breeze. She combed her hair out of her face, breathing pedantically. She held up her selfie camera and saw the small brand on her cheek. The mark of a bitter truth: Donovan Desjardins was a proctor.

"Rie, listen to me," Doreen sighed. The sixteen-year-old was sitting in a booth at Mad & Milky, sipping her cherries in port milkshake. "It might seem like telling the Sulkin girl about your capabilities is a good idea; someone to shoulder the burden with, maybe? It will do no good," Doreen stated firmly. "There is a movement whose followers would have us burnt at the stake, like some Hell-sent plague. A horde of men, women, even children. A corrosive police force who wants us eradicated. You cannot trust anyone with our truth. Not a soul."

"But Blaine..."

"The daughter of the police chief is the most likely member! Proctors are garish, grotesque people. They are deep-rooted in history; travelling everywhere between Scandinavia and Antartica, searching for us. Who do you think discovered our aversion to iron? Who do you think persecuted the freedom of independent thinking? Eating certain foods, matriarchy, Darwinism? You think that was shaped by mere ordinaries," Doreen hissed. "If you want to be her friend, be her friend. There's nothing wrong with that but do not forget; Jesus was friends with Judas."

Kieran admired her burn further to see the extent of it; a shallow little red mark with the distinct P between her ear and her jawline. Kieran closed her eyes with her face buried in her hands. One of those school spirit cupcakes would be chipper in that moment. A vanilla one with blue butter cream icing and white sprinkles, specifically! The soccer game lost its peaked excitement, but Kieran would play in the names of Doreen, Marcel and Blaine.

When the sun went down, the adrenaline went up. The locker room was pumping with the soccer team getting ready. Veronica winced to herself while changing into sky blue uniform that had white vertical stripes. She wore a uniform numbered 23 with the name V. Day above it, also in white. She borrowed an extra pair of white socks from Marie and shin pads from lost and found.

Veronica looked over to 5 only to see K. Arclight calmly lacing her cleats. Chloe was next to her, covering her neon green shin pads with her socks. Layla was punching the wall lightly with her gloves on, like she always did for some reason. Chloe rested her head onto Marie’s shoulder when Ms. Campbell finally returned from outside.

“Listen up my strong, independent lionesses,” Ms. Campbell called, and the team huddled together. “For a few of you, this is the last night you’ll be playing for the NB lions, but it is not your last night on this team. I am proud of all of you and what you’ve accomplished. We’ve beat Lexington four times before. Lions one more time.”

They all put their hands in the middle; Kieran's between Chloe’s and Veronica’s. “Lions! Mess with the roar! You get the paw! Roar!”

Ms. Campbell concluded with, “let’s go out there and give them a five-star ass whuppin’!”

Marie clapped Veronica on the back before the adrenaline really blurred out everything. The roar of the stands; the blinding white stadium lights; the smell of hotdogs; the spring-summer chill in the air that made goosebumps rise on their arms. All that was felt was Kieran's rapidly beating heart in her chest. Thunder clouds were brewing above and a ruckus was roaring below.

The defender look to the sidelines to see their reserve, Chloe, still on edge with adrenaline. Alongside Charlie R and Ms. Campbell was Veronica. Next to Marie, Chloe looked her way with a sober nod. The two inhaled in synch before the referee blew her whistle. The Lexington High royal blue and gold were clearly divided from the New Bristol sky blue and white. On the sidelines, Roary the Lion was the only cheerleader. Break dancing to whatever beat he could think of. Inside the suit was Chester Stirling and it really wasn’t a secret. On Lexington’s side, they had the whole cheer team and the mascot and the boys’ team and their marching band to cheer them on.

New Bristol never had a marching band; the school never had enough students for it. Or even enough people interested in music. Mr. Ryder, at some point, even gave in his two weeks' notice because of the lack of music students. Nobody knows what happened after that because he’s still teaching music.

It was tight game. Ms. Campbell stood angsty to wit’s end and began pacing her fluster. Lexington would almost score but so would New Bristol. Then New Bristol would score then so would Lexington and it made her head spin. Despite that, there was no shortage of shouting and cheerful scream from her for her team. She almost felt bad for being a former Lexington student but nobody recognised her so she didn’t feel too bad.

Also, in the crowd cheering her heart out, was Anna with James next to her. Dressed in a cream power suit, she stuck out in the group. Next to her, in a black suit and tie was the eagle-eye James. His stiff scowl was unmoving while he mutely spectated, also an oddball in the crowd. Observing the angry protestors chanting against his ward. A young woman doing her sweat-drenching best to keep up defenses.

When halftime came, Kieran caved over a bench in the locker room. The rest of the team was unnaturally demure apart from some tiredness. Marie was downing water from her bottle while Chloe hunched over, breathing hard. Charlie R rubbed her bag until she gave a thumbs up. Marie stretched herself out then caved next to Chloe.

Seeing Veronica let herself into Ms. Campbell’s office triggered Kieran. Her locker's proximity gave her an all-access pass to the conversation behind the closed door. “Hey, coach, can we talk real quick?” There was no reply; a nod. “It’s about Arclight. As captain, I think it would be best if we benched her from the rest of the game. I mean, this murder thing, her sloppy game. It’s only going to progress. And Chloe deserves a fair shot on the field.”

Kieran’s eyebrow twitched her annoyance; between the two of them, Kieran was the better defender. Acting solely on fairness, Ms. Campbell replied, “thank you for bring this to my attention, Veronica, but I want to see for myself before I make any changes, but I do appreciate your input.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Veronica replied smugly before coming out.

For the fifteen-minute break, they just sat in silence until Ms. Campbell came to revved them up. “Don’t get too comfortable, my lionesses. A 2-1 lead is good but we didn’t come here to win, did we?” There was a murmur of no. “No! Hell, no! We didn’t come here to win. We came for an ass whuppin’! What did come for?!”

“Ass whuppin’!”

“I can’t hear you!”

“Ass whuppin’! Ass whuppin’! Ass whuppin’,” they chanted on their way out.

In the stands were huge, bold signs that all read: Killer Off The Field; something a lot of New Bristol’s supporters were chanting. Kieran swallowed hard. She flipped her two braids behind her shoulders, seeing Layla’s scornful expression out of the corner of her eye. It was a brief in-take before Kieran went to work to defending New Bristol’s record.

There must have been a magic spell in that pep talk. Defense was tighter; offense was more aggressive, Carson was actually given a yellow card as was Danielle; the midfield was stiff; forwards were agile; Veronica couldn’t believe it. She stood stunned - still angsty but more stunned - while watching. Lexington didn’t know if they were coming or going!

The protestors, however, were going! Three of them dared charge onto the field still chanting their anthem. One held up a poster that said Justice 4 Blaine! which made Kieran clench a fist while her eyes were firmly on the Lexington striker in front of her, charging for Charlie R with the ball. Charlie was too slow to stop her, and Layla was too far away from the goal to stop the ball. Kieran bolted for the square, narrowly sliding passed the Lexington striker. The ball flying to Layla who threw it back in.

Ms. Campbell called for a substitute. On the substitution board was 5 in red and 23 in green. Kieran scoffed as she walked over in confusion. "Park it, Arclight," was all Ms. Campbell said. Chloe ran onto the field, leaving Kieran next to the other subs. The crowd certainly enjoyed the exchange. Not as much as Veronica did when she walked by, grinning menacingly at Kieran. She flipped her hair before returning to her post and getting in the way of Lexington’s soccer team when needed.

Kieran's eyes filled with black timing her moment and never letting Veronica out of her sight. Veronica was on the ball like se was glued to it! For a defender, the girls' captain had an insane offensive streak. Kieran hunched forward watching Veronica swerve with balletic grace towards the center field. She was read to blast the ball. There, mid kick, Veronica froze against her will. Held back by tentacles of black. Veronica was fighting her paralysis in vain yet still furrowed her eyebrows questioningly.

The defender clenched her fist and Veronica fell over screaming over the sound of her bone breaking in half. The Lexington midfielder surpassed her. She put the last ball in the back of the net while people came charging to crowd around the captain. Ms. Campbell came running towards the scene with paramedics in tow. Kieran sat unfazed by James watching her in disbelief and awe from behind. Not far away either was Donnie.

Since Chloe was the only reserve, Kieran let herself back on the team. Veronica's winces of pain were met with her light eyes meeting Kieran's fully black ones. The captain gasped when the abyss eyes were matched by a wicked smirk that made her blood run cold. Strapped to a gurney, there wasn't much Veronica could do. In that black-eyed haze Kieran showed no remorse in her game - shadows diffusing off her - and aggression in every movement.

She actually found herself on the midfield, shooting the ball to Danielle. Instead, the ball blasted passed the striker and into the goalpost. Kieran growled animalistically to herself over the roar of cheering New Bristol supporters. The protestors were working in full force, nonetheless. Still Chloe jumped onto her back while the rest of the team piled onto her before breaking up and continuing to play.

Chloe and Kieran had to break defense a few times to save from the forwards that were just being sloppy now. Charlie E and Carson weren’t focusing anymore. Chloe was out of breath and fell to her knees, too weak to stand. The referee didn’t see that goal either, so it was rendered invalid and Layla denying that the ball went it was no help.

Kieran aided Chloe to her feet and the other defender shook off the eyes and her fellow defender to continue playing. The game ended with an ass whuppin’ 4-1 lead to New Bristol. The New Bristol side of the stand the emptied onto the field. The flood of people broke Kieran out of her haze and she caved onto her knees to catch her breath. Supporters and protestors alike were celebrating, challenging the thunder above.

Donnie squirmed and wove through the crowd, searching for the sour-faced young woman. He reached the other end of the roaring group, only to see the Lexington girls’ team walking off in defeat. Looking around, he saw no sign of Kieran anywhere. Donnie scanned the field that was heavy with blue and white for someone else wearing blue and white. He squeezed his way back through and, again, came up short.

Near the foot of the bleachers, Anna was standing with a half-eaten hotdog in one hand and James' arm looped with her other arm. A hearty leer came when she saw Kieran sneaking off. The housekeeper wrapped her hotdog hand around the hot and sweaty soccer player. "Congratulations, hon! That was quite the game."

"Certainly, an unforgettable one," James added. Kieran saw him size her up.

"Where's my mom?"

"Working," Anna breathed coldly.

In the background - over the cheers - the trio heard someone yell: "victory party at Carson's!"

James and Anna looked that way before looking to Kieran. "You can go, if you want. Just be home by 23:00," James replied.

Kieran deflected to the locker room, while the hype was still celebrating outside. Kieran stepped into the piping hot shower - leaving her hair braided - and washed off the garish parts of the game. Her shower was fast, and her shower ended when the team only started making an appearance. Kieran put her black motorcycle jacket over her dress. The celebrations continued - in fact, didn't stagger - when she started to leave.

Only Carson and Danielle seemed to be bothered with her escape. "How evil must you be that your own mother writes the article on your crimes?"

"Yeah, well, she had psycho granny too," Danielle stated. Carson was floored. "Yeah. Her grandmother lived alone, across the river. She lived in a cottage made from sweets and ate children. Must be hereditary," the midfielder sang and pointed rhythmically at Kieran.

"Amazing how someone who always wears black can dress distinctly for a funeral today," Carson joked loud enough for others to hear.

The team's cheering filled the voiceless locker room and, instead, Kieran set on her helmet to hide her tears. The padding brushing the burn made it tingle. The ruckus around the school was confined to the soccer field and that right hand-side of the campus. Kieran's tinted visor looked towards the stairs of the main doors. The vacant parking spot. A yellow Fiat 500 with a bumper sticker from the school shop on the rear should have been reversed-parked in there. Maybe some black balloons attached to it with Blaine giving some impromptu congratulations cheer. Instead, there was just thunder and light drizzling.

The motorcycle revving off wasn't missed by anyone. Kieran sniffled en route through the dark streets. The streetlights only began along the residential streets and showcased the sleepy homes of New Bristol locals. Stirling Lane ran longer than most, with all its huge homes. Kieran cruised her motorcycle into the white garage, passing the driveway where a huge pickup truck was parked. In the garage was James' poor-choice red BMW and his black 5th Gen Cheverolet Camaro.

The worsening storm killed the power and Kieran sighed, although her vision wasn't at all affected. James' generator kicked in and the secondary lights lit up the vital parts of the house: the garage, the kitchen, the backyard, and the emergency lighting in the bedrooms and bathrooms. The lights hurt though. An angelic whiteness that made her eyes singe and burn. She groaned before dismounting.

Kieran held her helmet in one hand with her duffle slung over the opposite shoulder. Her face was a deep-running crimson. Blood-shot with rage and reddened from her crying. The black sneakers slogged through the door with soft sobbing. She wiped the dregs of her tears away, hoping to talk to Anna. She clutched her bag tighter then continued through the house.

"You're not listening to me," a familiar voice declared, halting Kieran's thoughts.

"No, I hear you. I hear you," James replied. "And I am ordering you to leave it alone. I will handle the situation and chief Sulkin."

Kieran stepped into the kitchen to find James leaning against the island with Donnie across from him. More white light illuminated the kitchen but not enough to cast so many shadows. The basketball captain was the one who saw her first. "Rie?" James looked towards the doorway and straightened up. "Wha-what're you doing here," Donnie asked.

The defender looked between him and James. Too caught up with the runic compass on James' left hand, Kieran never noticed the iron ring on his right hand. Her lips parted as she stepped back towards the garage. "Kieran," James called cautiously and raised his hands slowly. Her panting filled the deafening silence. "Just let me explain." She dropped her bag and darted! "Kieran!"

James and Donnie ran after her. She hurled her helmet at him. Kieran jumped on her bike and fled. James and Donnie watch the Kawasaki Ninja whirred off into the storm. The wake turbulence blinded her but she wouldn't slow down her escape from the truth. It was a grizzled truth: they were both proctors.