3: Community

"Mari, get out the front already."

Marion stumbled out of her room, a scowl already on her face. Early morning light streamed through the cracks in the poorly crafted roof, covering the room in a warm glow, like a blanket on a cold night. Her stepmother glared down at her as Marion half crawled out of the doorway and into the hallway, immediately moving towards the front of the store.

"I told you not to stay up too late."

The girl turned her head upwards and looked towards her guardian sassily, but quickly wrenched her head to the side when she saw the disapproval building in her stepmother's eyes. Without an additional word, she quickly bounded towards the counter, taking a seat and quickly fixing her bed hair as best she could. Her stepmother quickly pushed past her, beginning her quick check around the room for the products that needed restocking.

But what had her so grumpy? That was the question that was on Marion's mind, one which wasn't going to go unanswered.

There were a few hints already on her mind. Her stepmother's hair was untidy, something that only happened if she was stressed before going to bed. Based on the process of elimination, it happened some time between when she had left to go play to when she had come home, otherwise she would have definitely noticed. Most importantly, it more than likely had to do with her alcoholic father. She didn't have any evidence, but it was a simple case of pattern recognition.

"Is it a divorce..."

"Did you say something?"

Despite barely mumbling her suspicions under her breath, her mother's hearing wasn't anything to underestimate. Marion quickly shook her head before reaching over to the shelf, pretending to be busy counting money to drive suspicion away from herself. After a few seconds, she peeked back over towards her stepmother who was preoccupied with counting the number of baskets they had left.

It was almost immediately apparent to Marion that her guardians weren't going to be divorcing any time soon, if the strings attached to her mother's heart were anything to go by. A thick, web like white string led from her heart towards their room where their father still slept, unwavering as it usually was. From her head were several hundred strings, some a pearly white, some a suspicious yellow and a few a deep, blood red. One particular string caught Marion's eye; from the back of her stepmother's head, a frayed white string reached out towards the kitchen. Towards the centre, the string was only three threads thick, barely holding together and beginning to sag. To Marion, the next course of action was obvious; it was time to go investigate.

Marion looked up once more to quickly glance towards her stepmother, who was grumbling to herself angrily as she checked the baby bibs they had left. Without hesitation, the girl quickly made her way towards the kitchen, etching the trajectory of the frayed string into her head as she sneaked through the creaky hallway. As she came into the kitchen, it became immediately apparent to her that the string had been connected to the garbage bin under the sink. Hastily she opened the cabinet to find pieces of ceramic that she hadn't seen in the bin the day before, glistening and shiny but also tacky and unappealing.

It was almost instantly recognisable to her that it was her stepmother's family vase. She almost immediately formed an image of what happened in her head; her father had accidentally tripped over and broken the family heirloom in one of his drunk stupors and her mother had cleaned it up and not mentioned it, not wanting to let her stepchild know too much about her relationship. Feeling oddly satisfied, she quickly tiptoed back to her spot on the counter, returning back to her seat just as her mother turned around to check if she was there.

"Alright, I'll be out to get some supplies. You mind the store, okay?"

"Okay!"

Marion replied in the most convincing energetic tone that she could muster, although her stepmother didn't seem particularly convinced. Taking one of the baskets with her, the stepmother quickly pushed the front door open gently and turned towards the village square, leaving Marion alone with the sound of a bell chiming from the top of the doorframe.

The moment her stepmother's footsteps were out of earshot, Marion slumped down onto the counter, her eyes drooping down tempting her to indulge in her dreams. She had never had a customer come this early in the morning in her life, so for her, this was a prime opportunity to catch up on the sleep she was missing. However, just as she began to drift off, the bell chimed once more despite her not hearing any audible footsteps.

Marion immediately shot up, praying to herself that her stepmother hadn't come back because she had forgotten something. Thankfully, that wasn't the case; the person who had entered was a young man wearing a floral shirt and baggy pants. A flower crown sat atop his head to complete the look, although the beauty of it was compromised by a few of the plants beginning to wilt. He looked up at the bell bewildered, but slowly became less interested in it, instead looking around him to see the products on display.

A weirdo. It had been a while since the last one, which made this particular stranger especially exciting for Marion.

"Are you looking for something?"

Marion hopped off the stool and made her way to the man, making sure to stay out of arm's reach, but close enough to see the individual flowers in his shirt.

"Do you have any clothes? Something fashionable would be nice."

Marion wasn't sure why the man would come to the small store that their family ran for fashionable clothes, but if her stepmother had taught her anything, it was to not question what benefited you too much.

"Just over there. I'd recommend getting a sweater for winter."

Marion pointed towards the clothes in the corner of the store, quietly anticipating for the moment the stranger looked away. She knew that most probably wouldn't like her taking a peek into their lives, but it was harmless as long as they didn't know. The stranger quietly crouched down and shuffled through the knitted clothing and Marion saw her opportunity.

Almost immediately she stumbled backwards, coming dangerously close to crashing into the aprons. Her knees shook like leaves caught in a hurricane and her body shivered as if winter had already come, with one arm propping herself up and another hand opened towards the stranger in a weak attempt to protect herself.

"Red... why... how many times have your arms and legs..."

The stranger turned around curiously with a sweater in hand, but seemed uninterested in Marion when he saw her reaction. He quickly walked towards her and crouched back down, before shuffling for the coins in his pocket and picking a few out seemingly randomly. Marion was frozen as he gently grabbed her hand and twisted it to face upwards, placing the coins on top and nodding to himself. Before she could blubber out a response, he quickly grabbed the sweater and left as swiftly as he had entered, leaving the girl on the wooden floor with seven times the amount of money the sweater costed.