A Place Called Perfect

by Helena Duggan

  Edward Archer charged for the house. The window was fully open. It was now or never. Violet raced across the lawn after him.

  “She doesn’t love you, she loves William!” she roared.

  The stout twin stopped and turned. His eyes changed. Hatred was replaced by evil. She’d made a mistake. Time slowed. He cocked the gun. A faint click. BANG!

  Suddenly time resumed. Violet was catapulted backwards. The air left her lungs as she smashed against the soil. Everything went hazy, foggy. She couldn’t see. Slowly shadows merged. Her father’s face floated in the sky above.

  “Violet! Violet are you okay?”

  “I’m…em…” she couldn’t reply.

  The weight. Something was sitting on her chest. Edward must have shot her. It always happened that way in films. The person took an age to realize they’d been hurt. There was no pain. There was never any pain in the movies.

  “That boy. He saved your life!” her father stammered.

  “What?” Violet said bolting upright.

  Boy lay unconscious on the grass beside her. His body floppy just as it’d been when he’d fought the Watcher. Quickly Violet crawled to his side.

  “Boy, Boy please wake up,” she cried.

  Her father pulled her aside to examine him.

  “Will he be okay Dad?” she sobbed, “he’s my best friend.”

  The house door opened and Macula Archer ran out across the lawn.

  “Will he be okay?” she panted, reaching Boy’s side. “He saved your life.”

  Violet was hysterical as Macula pulled her into her arms and away from the scene. She was shaking. Pain, like nothing before, dug into her chest. A hole was scooped from her stomach where Boy, her best friend, had been. She couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not after everything.

  Edward Archer was sprawled flat across the lawn behind Macula. The thickest book ever lay open beside him.

  The Worlds One Thousand Worst Eye Ailments.

  “I dropped it on his head,” Macula smiled, hugging Violet closer.

  Boy’s lips were a faint blue now. His cheeks pale too. The hole in her stomach grew larger. Edward Archer wouldn’t get away with this. She broke from Macula’s arms and turned towards the unconscious twin. He was gone.

  Quickly she scanned the area. His stocky figure stumbled along the estate road towards the graveyard. Furious, she sprinted after him. Her blood boiled propelling her legs forward. Everything was his fault and now he’d killed her best friend, her only friend. Edward Archer had to suffer. He had to pay.

  He staggered under the hazy street lamp and slipped through the turnstile into the graveyard. Violet followed. She wasn’t afraid. She was angry. She couldn’t let him get away with what he had done. The putrid smell of disintegrating bodies grabbed her nostrils. She was standing on the path that divided the cemetery. Gravestones hovered either side. She ducked down behind a mossy one and waited. He had to be here, somewhere. Her heart beat loudly and her breath formed icy clouds in front of her nose. The graveyard was dead still.

  “I know you’re in here Edward Archer,” she shouted, trying to sound brave, “You won’t get away with this. The whole of Perfect is on the way.”

  “You’re on your own Violet, aren’t you afraid?” the twins voice echoed.

  There was a sudden movement. Quickly she turned. A figure passed behind her. She raced after him. He was quick, cutting swiftly through the tightly packed headstones. She tripped and fell. Her palms were bleeding. The person stopped to stare. Laughter wrapped the graveyard. The fog was too thick. She couldn’t see a face, but the figure was too thin to be Edward Archer.

  “What’s wrong Violet?” the stranger laughed, moving towards her.

  “Violet. Violet where are you?” her father’s desperate voice cried from the graveyard wall.

  “Looks like I’ll have to introduce myself another time. Pass my regards onto Boy,” the stranger sneered, then disappeared behind a tombstone.

  Violet raced to the where the stranger had stood but they’d gone. Vanished, as if by magic. The tomb was covered in thick moss, which she scraped away to read the inscription. The text was too damaged by time to make sense. A tiny wooden cross rested against the bottom corner of the tombstone like an afterthought. Two broken branches held together with a single nail. Hanging from the cross was a hand written card covered in grimy plastic.

  HERE MARKS THE FINAL RESTING PLACE OF A.W. ARCHER. MORE THAN HE DESERVES.

  “Violet, what were you doing running off alone,” her father snapped, reaching her side.

  “I’m sorry Dad,” she stammered looking up, “It’s just I wanted to catch Edward Archer. He can’t get away with what he did to Boy. He’s gone Dad. I couldn’t find him!”

  “I know Violet,” her father soothed, pulling her up into his arms, “but don’t worry we’ll track him down, those Archers are not as clever as they think. As for your friend Boy, he’s going to be fine. It’s just a bump to the head.”

  “Boy’s alive?”

  “And kicking,” her father laughed, as Violet jumped around in his arms.

  “Wohoo…Boy’s alive!”

  Happiness, relief and exhaustion flooded her body and, after celebrating, Violet buried her head deep into her Dad’s shoulder and cried. Her tears were not for sadness or loss but for Boy. He was going to be okay.

  “Dad,” Violet asked, as Eugene Brown carried her across the Ghost Estate, “who’s A.W. Archer?”

  “I don’t know Violet but if they’re related to Edward and George I’d prefer not to!”

  Macula was nursing Boy on the soggy grass when they reached them. Her father left Violet down on the lawn and picked up Boy, he was still too hazy to walk.

  “Come on,” Eugene smiled, heading towards the exit of the Ghost Estate, “lets go home.”

  There was a piece of paper on the lawn where Boy had lain. Violet picked it up. It must have slipped from his pocket in the fall.

  So you’ll never be invisible.

  Now she knew what was familiar about the note, the handwriting, she’d seen it before. Holding the prized paper firm in her fist she ran to catch the others.

  “I think this is yours,” Violet said, tugging on Macula Archer’s sleeve.

  CHAPTER 36

  Our Town

  The whole town was already gathered in the square when Boy and Violet sprinted down the main street past the newly planted flowerbeds.

  “I still think those eyes are creepy,” Boy shuddered.

  “Well you better get used to them they’re all over town. Edward Archer will never sneak back in here with all of those watching out for him,” Violet laughed, “Come on we’re late. Mam is always giving out to me for delaying.”

  “I can’t get used to this parents thing,” Boy said, racing beside his friend, “I mean I never had to obey anyone before.”

  “You love it!” Violet teased, sprinting ahead.

  Everyone was standing round a small red curtain when the pair arrived. William Archer’s hand rested on the cord as he finished his speech.

  “And now let us all forget our Perfect past and move onto our future,” he smiled, pulling tight on the rope.

  The curtains glided gracefully apart to reveal a marble etched plaque, Welcome to Town it read. The place erupted in applause.

  “Town, what kind of a name is that?” Boy smirked.

  “Well you can’t talk,” Violet laughed, “and anyway it’s not just any town Boy. It’s our Town.”

  THE END.

  If you liked Perfect please review it on Amazon. I'd be extremely grateful and Boy and Violet would be delighted, they really want to be famous you see!

  Helena Duggan is a writer and graphic designer living in Kilkenny, Ireland. If you have any questions about Boy or Violet or anything in the whole world, please contact her. She loves talking, never really shuts up actually!

  These are her websites

  Helddesign.ie (that’s for all her design work) Helenaduggan.com (that’s
for all her writing stuff)

  A Place Called Perfect is available for sale on Amazon.com and other online outlets. It is also available as an eBook. Please check out helenaduggan.com for further details.

  Helena is also on Facebook and Twitter, you’ll find the links through her website. (She’s not the best tweeter in the world, leaves that to the birds!)