Dark nights seemed to come ever so quickly now in Shadow Eves. Despite the naming of the town, Shadow Eves was far from shadowy or… evey. However, it seemed nowadays the town was living up to its name. At present, a girl in her mid-teens was sitting on a little porch step. As she sat, slightly shivering, her honey-coloured brown hair picked up with the wind and blew in front of her eyes. The young girl wrapped her shawl around her best she could and wondered absently, what exactly was she even doing outside? It occurred to her that maybe she needed some time to think but then again, what was there to think about exactly? A shuffling interrupted the girl’s thoughts and her quick reflex reactions had her immediately flying upwards in defence mode. Now, don’t get her wrong – the girl wasn’t usually this defensive – but something about tonight made her senses go all tingly.

The moon seemed to hang too low in the night sky casting a light on the girl making her look eerily pale. As the girl walked forward, cautiously with each step, she carefully noted that the shuffling had stopped and was now replaced with a low rasping sound – almost as if whatever it was, was struggling to breathe. The adolescent girl having made it to the source of the sound suddenly felt very scared. Who knew what could be hidden in her mum’s hydrangea bushes, maybe waiting to attack her? Mustering up all the courage she had left, the girl carefully parted the flowers and peered to get a better look. What greeted her was something she didn’t expect to see. Except in this case, it wasn’t a something but a someone,

“Help?” came the raspy voice.

At this present moment in her life Gladys Bran would like to point out it was perfectly normal, thank you very much for asking. However, her perfectly normal life hadn’t expected to find her youngest daughter bursting through the kitchen door at an alarming rate with what appeared to be a young man balancing precariously upon her back,

“Mum, a little help please?” was all her daughter had to utter before she switched to Mother Hen mode. Gladys quickly removed the boy from her daughter’s clutches and settled him onto a chair around the dining table. Upon examination, the boy had many external bruises as well as a slight cut on his lower lip. His right eye was swollen and he sat clutching his arm which seemed to be in an awkward position,

“Now, young man – you stay right there whilst I get some bandages and clean water,” The boy only proceeded to growl – although whether in pain or annoyance, it wasn’t quite clear. Gladys left immediately but not before glancing at her daughter who was staring worriedly at the boy. She allowed a secret smile, always the worrier was her daughter.

“What’s your name, then?” the girl asked, dragging a chair out and taking a seat. The boy only glanced at her before returning his gaze to examining his broken arm,

“Why should I tell you?” he muttered disdainfully after a long stretch of silence. The young girl only stared at him with a mixture of amusement and annoyance,

“Rude one, aren’t ya?” she replied, chuckling before snatching a roll that was lying on a tray on the table. The boy only grunted in dissatisfaction and rolled his eyes.