Dark and Twisty

As her tattered combat boots clicked down the cobblestone street, Vada Henley held back a sob. Despite her woeful demeanor, she wasn’t prone to crying, but tonight was an exception - and for no reason she could put her finger on just yet. Perhaps it was the fact that she was off work and out in the world eight hours earlier than usual, allowing her to witness the nightlife of Salem as it wound down - the nightlife she had never really taken part in. Maybe it was because she was spending her favorite holiday walking home from work alone. Or maybe it was just because that was her thing - sad for no apparent reason.

That's why her hair was blue. It matched her personality.

Pausing at the statue of Elizabeth Montgomery in the heart of Salem, Vada dug through her shoulder bag and produced a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a near empty book of matches. Pinching one cigarette between her teeth and readying a match against the back of the book, she mentally crossed her fingers that she could get it on the first try.

She didn't.

The first match fizzled out and Vada dropped it to the ground with a string of curse words. As she readied the last match, she eyed the statue beside her.

"Cross your fingers for me, Samantha."

As she struck the match and produced a flame, a male voice sounded from somewhere concealed behind the statue.

"I don't think she'll be of much help," it said in a gruff British accent, and it startled Vada so badly that her hand jumped, causing the flame to extinguish immediately.

"Fuck!"

She whirled around with tears already swelling in her eyes. A body came into view and he was smiling, pulling something from his pocket as she lunged at him, hitting him directly in his left shoulder.

"Who the fuck sneaks up on strangers at midnight on Halloween?"

He held his hands up in defense as a throaty laugh lifted his already light features. "Easy, was just gonna offer you a light."

Vada dropped her hands in defeat and eyed the stranger dangerously, the unlit cigarette still dangling from her lips. Flipping open a silver lighter, he produced a flame and held it directly beneath her cigarette, allowing her to decide whether or not she was going to use it.

Dipping her head so the tip of the cigarette met the light, she took a long drag and immediately felt the tension roll off her shoulders.

"Thanks," she breathed, letting the smoke leave her lungs in a long stream.

He flipped the lighter closed and held it out to her, "Take it, don't need it anyway."

Dragging off the cigarette again, she raised a suspicious eyebrow to the strangers offer.

"Go on then, it won't bite you," he teased, smiling broadly.

Taking it cautiously, she turned it over in her fingers, noticing an H and an S engraved on the back.

"It's engraved," she informed him, as if he didn't already know.

He nodded, "It was a gift."

She immediately held it back to him, "I can't take it! It has your name on it!"

"Only my initials, and I'm gifting it to you. It's impolite to reject a gift."

Taking a particularly long drag from her cigarette, Vada remembered when her mother used to tell her something similar. She closed her palm around the lighter and dropped her hand to her side.

"Thank you."

Satisfied, he grinned, "You're welcome. May I ask your name, angry stranger with blue hair?"

Snorting, Vada removed the cigarette from between her lips. "Vada. Yours? Or should I call you sneaky British stranger?"

"If you like, but Harry works as well. Vada like 'My Girl'? My friend just showed me that film!"

He seemed very proud of himself, and Vada felt something warm in her chest. Endearment, maybe. Fondness, perhaps. Either way, it was strange and unusual - much like this kind stranger named Harry. He had a genuine look of interest in her in his eyes, and it wasn't like the interest most men showed in her. He seemed to have no ulterior motives.

"And did you like it?" She asked, stepping to the side to allow the streetlight behind her to illuminate Harry better.

"I loved it! I cried though, are many American movies so sad?"

"Only the good ones," she responded with a Mona Lisa smile.

Now in the light, Harry's appearance was more than a shadowed mystery. He was tall, just shy of six feet, and quite lanky. His jeans were tight, tucked perfectly into brown suede boots. He wore a long black pea coat, unbuttoned to reveal a simple grey t-shirt falling just below his belt. His hair was pulled into a meticulous bun, chestnut in color and shining auburn under the streetlight. He was incredibly handsome, and his green eyes had such life in them - something Vada was unfamiliar with as of late. But still, there was something in the back of Vada's mind telling her to steer clear.

He looked unthreatening enough, but so did Ted Bundy.

Having spent so much time judging and admiring her company, Vada had let her cigarette nearly burn out only halfway down. She immediately brought it to her lips and flipped open Harry's lighter, puffing until it was lit once again.

As she closed the lighter, Harry spoke up again. "That's the most used that lighter's been since I got it for my birthday eight months ago. I knew gifting it to you was the right choice."

Vada could feel herself smiling in spite of herself, so she cleared her throat and dragged on her cigarette once more.

"So, what are you doing out so late, Harry?"

"Visiting some friends, they're having a party. What about you? Do you spend many of your nights speaking to statues?"

She instinctively rolled her eyes at him and he relished in the comfort of the exchange. She was going soft on him already. He had that effect on people. "Leaving work, actually... it's weird really, I'm not usually out this early."

"Have you enjoyed this new experience, Vada?"

"It's not been bad," she shrugged, a tired smile pulling at her cheeks. Harry couldn't help but return the expression.

"Should I leave you then? I'm sure you're ready to be home."

"We're headed the same direction, right? We could walk alongside each other; I don't think it would ruin the night."

A grin erupted across his face and he nodded enthusiastically, "Absolutely."


Salem wasn't nearly as large as some may have assume, and Vada lived so close to town that their walk would be cut short long before Harry was ready. As they crossed the cobblestone streets and navigated through the drunken patrons leaving their Halloween parties, Harry watched his companion with curious eyes.

Her blue hair seemed to glow in the dark under the moonlight, and it was near impossible for him to take his eyes off her. She kept her eyes down, never once looking over at him, her cigarette burning down to the filter as she dragged from it every minute or so. He was curious beyond satisfaction; he wanted to know everything there was to learn about this girl. He wasn't sure how much longer he had with her, so he sped up his pace to fall in perfect step with her.

"May I ask you a question, Vada?"

Snubbing out the cigarette beneath the heel of her boot, Vada lifted hesitant eyes to Harry, shrugging as she did. "Sure, I guess."

"Are you alright? When I first found you, you seemed to be having a rough night."

Vada coughed instinctively, covering the immediate discomfort that rose in her chest at his very personal question. "I'm fine, Harry, thank you for asking."

"Are you sure, I know I'm overstepping my boundaries, but I'm only concerned."

"I promise, Harry. Don't worry about little old me," she said, with a patient smile that was bordering on volatile. Harry could see the shift in her attitude in her eyes, and when she came to a sudden stop, he was suddenly afraid she was going to strike him again.

"This is me," she said, motioning to the building behind her.

Eyeing the building, Harry took notice that it was a not a house or an apartment, but rather a museum. He raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You live in a Witch Museum?"

Vada's lips pursed in building impatience, "I don't. I live somewhere behind the museum, but as I've only just met you - I'd rather not flash around my house to a stranger."

Mildly insulted but understanding nonetheless, Harry nodded and took a step back, "I apologize. I hope you have a good night, Vada."

"Good night, Harry."

With that, she was disappearing around the side of building, on her way to her secluded apartment that was far out of Harry's sight. But as her blue hair vanished, Harry felt the tug of regret in his stomach and he took a lunging step forward.

At the top of lungs, he shouted out for her, "VADA!"

Behind the building and on the step of her building, Vada froze immediately. With all of her strength, she could not figure out what this guy could possibly be yelling about. Apprehensive to face him again, Vada leaned back against the railing of the steps and shouted back, "WHAT?"

"CAN I SEE YOU AGAIN? I'M IN TOWN FOR A WEEK..."

Silent for a solid minute, Vada debated ignoring him and hiding away in her apartment, but something held her in space.

"I GO OUT FOR COFFEE EVERY MORNING, IF YOU CAN FIND ME, WE CAN TALK."

Vada was unlocking her door when a reply came, but it didn't come in Harry's rasping British accent. "WILL YOU STOP YELLING?!" The accent matched Vada's and the voice came from somewhere above her; Harry barely heard it, but knew enough to know the response was not his blue haired aquantinance. He grinned broadly, immediately turning to resume his path to his friends home - now partly because he didn't want to anger any locals on the scariest holiday of the year, especially when the possibility of a coffee date with Vada lingered in the distance.

He was very satisfied with himself, and Vada, now inside her building, had a lingering feeling that something about that boy was going to hold her captive until she properly addressed it. Maybe a chat over coffee after she had gotten some sleep and wasn't on the verge of a mental breakdown would do them well.

Or maybe he would see her differently in the daylight and leave her be.

While Vada's mind assumed the latter was the more likely outcome, she dressed for bed and fell onto her mattress haphazardly, planting her face in her pillow and praying the face of the strange British boy would fade long enough to catch a few hours of restful sleep.

Notes

Thought I'd branch out a bit and post elsewhere. I used to post on this site as 'kabuscus' and had a few stories, but after one was plagarized - I removed everything. I'll be bringing this one around and one other back - let me know what you think!

xx Katie