I saw her lying in a pool of red, and she don't know how to swim.
Lily traipsed through Cherry’s apartment door with ease thanks to the key she was given a few months ago, which she immediately put on a keyring of the two of them as children, all rosy cheeks and gap toothed grins, her arm slung around her sister’s neck.
Everything was of such simplicity in those sunshine and ice cream filled days, the worst to worry about were skinned knees or maybe a broken limb, she recalled the time Cherry broke her arm and demanded a pink cast, Lily was so afraid that the arm would never heal if she signed it.
Lily sighed at the sight her tired hazel eyes were greeted with.
Cans of Stella Artois were littered around the beige sofa, which was positioned in the centre of the room, facing the small portable television.
She, being the ‘clean freak’ of the twins as Cherry so eloquently put it, began the task of collecting them in a black garbage bag from the conjoined kitchen.
The room had a stale smell about it, and something slightly metallic she couldn’t put her finger on, and the silence was unnerving.
She counted as she collected, slowly becoming more and more fluid with her movements on the soft carpeted floor.
Eventually she calculated the total being 27 cans, another deep sigh, she brushed the thick black hair out of her face, of course she was worried about Cherry, they were SISTERS, she had the right by default to apprehension.
“She never decorated much.”
Lily pondered aloud, gazing at the bare white washed walls of the kitchen and living room through thick lashes.
Worry about her, she kept hearing, worry because no one else will.
An unseen force compelled her to leave the apartment and not go to the two other rooms but Lily, being ever the curious one, shook the feeling off and instead let it feed her interest and puzzlement as to the whereabouts of her sibling.
Lily voyaged through the door on her left to find an empty purple bedroom, save a few more cans and a cheap wooden bed with a white sheet covering the mattress plus a crappy little side table with an open disposable razor resting on it.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”
Lily cursed repeatedly, galloping out of the room to the door opposite.
A broken whisper, the barely audible voice of a scared little kid again, brain shutting off completely and eyes wide open but not seeing anything but the scarlet liquid.
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