Ignite These Somber Flames

I woke up the following morning to the savory smell of bacon, and coffee. I rolled out of bed with my stomach roaring. I glided down the stairs, skipping the last step and jumping to the bottom. I ran into the kitchen, knowing full well that if I wanted to eat, I'd have to beat the boys. Gerard stood over the stove, scrambling the eggs in a frying pan. Liam stood next to him, pouring coffee into three different mugs.

"Morning," Gerard smiled at me sheepishly.

Liam turned and looked over at me, handing me a cup of black coffee. "Good morning," he said. "Sleep well?" I nodded my head, too tired to speak. I walked toward the fridge, opening it. I poured some vanilla creamer into my coffee. I never could drink coffee black, unlike the rest of the group. Audrey could drink hers straight away- black no matter the temperature. Liam enjoyed some sugar in his coffee but otherwise black. The rest of the boys drank theirs black. Plain and simple. I, on the opposite side of things, enjoyed my coffee on the brink of being too sweet. And luckily for me, no one would dare try and drink it.

"Breakfast is almost ready," Liam informed me. He carried two cups of coffee, following behind me into the living room. Mikey and Ray sat on the couch, playing one of Liam's video games. Frank was nowhere to be seen. Not that I was hoping for his presence. "Here." Liam stood in front of the television, handing the two boys their coffee.

"Noooo," Ray shouted as his character died. He moved his head to the sides, trying to see past Liam. Once he realized his character was dead, he looked up at Liam. "Thanks," he grumbled, grabbing one of the mugs. Mikey paused the game, making sure his character was still alive. He took the second mug. Liam returned to the kitchen.

"You wanna play?" Mikey offered me.

"In all the year you've know me, Michael," Mikey cringed at the sound of his full name. "When have I ever played video games?" I asked, sipping away at my coffee.

"When forced," Mikey gave me a toothy grin. My eyes narrowed at him, challenging Mikey to a staring contest. Luckily for me, Gerard waltzed into the living room.

"Come get breakfast, you beasts," he sang theatrically. I tilted my head to the side and stuck out my tongue to Mikey before darting into the other room. Mikey was close behind me with Ray keeping his distance behind us.

"Hey! No running!" Liam shouted once he saw us. He wiggled one of his fingers.

"I swear you two were raised by wolves," Ray laughed. I sat down at the small yellow, mid-century dining table. Mikey made sure to sit across from me while Ray sat down next to him. Liam and Gerard sat down once they passed out everyone's plate.

"Where is Frank?" I asked. Curiosity got the best of me.

"In the shower," Mikey said, shoving bacon into his mouth.

"Can you go let him know breakfast is ready?" Liam looked over at me. He saw the hesitation in my eyes. "Please?"

I pushed my chair out, standing up and dragging my heels toward the stairs. I got to the top of them. The bathroom door was open, steam coming out and into the hallway. I turned to go back downstairs but stopped when I realized the light in my room was on. I scrunched up my face, remembering that I hadn't turned it on at all today. I didn't like the possibility of Frank being in my room. True, Frank had already seen my room; however, there was no choice in the matter and he spent the night sleeping. I walked into my room without bothering to knock.

"Frank what are you-OH MY GOD!" My hands flew over my eyes the moment I saw Frank in nothing but his boxers. "I'm so sorry!" I rambled on franticly.

"Sorry," he couldn't help but laugh at my reaction. "But you've seen me naked plenty of times," he pointed out.

I opened my mouth to rebuttal but the words escaped me as I lowered my hands back down. I felt slightly embarrassed and now awkward at this point. I tried to avoid looking at him, figuring out how to leave the situation as quickly as possible but remain calm. "Not the point," I let out, my voice shaking with anxiety. "Why are you changing here?"

Frank remained composed. "I left my bag in here," he said effortlessly. "Did you need me to leave?" I shook my head, my lips pressed firmly together. My eyes wandered over to him. Frank had thickened out over the last four years. He was a scrawny kid, not much bigger than me back then. He had a little more weight and muscle to him now. And tattoos. Frank's body was covered in them now. From his neck to his lower torso. He had full sleeves on both arms. "Marlowe?" Frank asked, pulling me out of my gaze. I blinked before looking into his eyes.

"Breakfast. Downstairs," I managed to say, my cheeks started to feel warm. I turned and headed back to the dining room, a mortified expression plastered on my face. I took my seat next to Liam quietly, stuffing food in my mouth before anyone could ask me a question.

The boys exchanged puzzled looks, but no one said a word to me. Frank joined up shortly after, fully dress this time and his hair still damp. After breakfast, the boys got dressed and ready while I sat on the couch, curled up in a book.

"We're leaving," Liam said, grabbing his keys from the end table next to me. "Are you going to join us?" He asked, sitting down next to me on the couch.

I put down my book, sticking my bookmark in before I closed it. "Thanks but I have a lot to do today," I told him.

"Alright," he said coolly, standing back up. I could hear the rest of the boys coming down the stairs. They stood by the front door, waiting for Liam. He leaned over, kissing the top of my head. "See you later."

"Later," I waved.



Eleven years prior, 1995

"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Mrs. Fletcher smiled as Linda Iero sat down on the couch across from her. To Mrs. Fletcher right sat Mr. Fletcher, her husband. He had a stern look on his face. Mrs. Fletcher looked back to Linda. "We don't know what else to do about her," she sighed, referring to the rebellious teenager, Marlowe.

"Of course," Linda spoke. Her hands were folded in her lap. There was a heavyweight in her chest. "Tell me from the beginning?" She asked hesitantly. "You spoke rather vaguely over the phone."

"From the beginning?" Mr. Fletcher raised his voice, startling both women. His wife placed her hand on his arm, calming him down for the moment.

"Well, she's doing very poorly in school," Mrs. Fletcher continued. "She's been skipping classes, hanging out with the wrong crowd, talking back-" Mrs. Fletcher's started to cry. She leaned forward and took a tissue from the box on the coffee table. She blew her nose, apologizing quietly. "We just don't know how to handle her behavior. We're worried she's a bad influence to the other children."

"I see," Linda took in a deep breath and exhaled. "Is she home right now?"

Mr. Fletcher spoke up. "She's in her room. We've grounded her for the time being."

"May I go speak with her?" Linda asked.

Mrs. Fletcher nodded. She stood up slowly, her body shook as she did so. "I'll take you." Linda followed the elderly lady up the stairs and to one of the doors on the second story. Mrs. Fletcher knocked on the closed door but didn't wait for a response when she opened it.

On the bed, sat Marlowe, her hair sat above her shoulders but the ends were not neat. It looked as if she or someone else had given her a haircut with kitchen scissors. She looked skinny, as if she hadn't been eating properly. She sat with her knees tucked into her chest, trying to protect herself from the intruders. "Marlowe, Mrs. Iero is here to see you," Mrs. Fletcher spoke in a sweet voice. Marlowe cringed as the old bat's eyes laid upon her. Mrs. Fletcher didn't seem to notice and turned her attention back to Linda. "I'll leave you two be." She headed back downstairs.

"Hi, Marlowe," Linda smiled, walking into the room. She shut the door behind her. She didn't want anyone to bother them.

"Hi," Marlowe barely spoke. She still sat with her knees tucked in. But her eyes laid on Linda the whole time.

Linda remained un-phased by the young girls coldness. It wasn't anything new; a lot of foster children had trust issues with adults or with anyone for that matter. It was a harsh reality of the foster system. Linda took a seat in the wooden chair next to the desk. "I hear you haven't been doing well in school," Linda said, locking eyes with Marlowe. "I also hear you haven't been very nice to the Fletchers." Marlowe looked away at the mention of the Fletchers. Linda let out a sigh. "Do you want to say anything?" She asked. "Are they treating you well?"

Marlowe looked back up at Linda. She let go of her legs, letting them relax on the bed. Marlowe shifted her weight and faced Linda; she even sat up straighter. "The Fletchers are really nice," she spoke up a little louder than earlier. "I'm-I'm just struggling with school," she murmured.

Linda nodded her head, "I see," she smiled at the young girl. "What are you struggling with?" She asked.

"Everything."

"Okay," Linda said. "I have a proposition, Marlowe," Linda smiled at the young girl. "You will come over to my house after school three times a week-your choice which day of the week but you have to stick to it. You will study with my son for two hours. Afterwards I'll take you home. Does that sound good?" Marlowe bit her lip; she was trying to keep her feelings to herself. Marlowe was all too familiar with Linda's son: Frank. Frank was really good friends with Marlowe's foster brother, Liam. For whatever reason, Frank never wanted to include Marlowe, and for that, she hated him back.

However, spending three out of the seven days a week, even if only for two hours, at the Iero house sounded better than spending those two hours at the Fletchers. Marlowe nodded her head. Linda stuck her hand out and Marlowe took it, shaking on it. Linda stood back up and smiled down at Marlowe. "Which days will it be?"

Marlowe thought for a moment before responding. "Monday, Wednesday, and Friday," she said. It meant every other day except for the weekend she would spend over at the Iero household. It sounded like Marlowe's best option.

"I'll see you Monday then Marlowe," Linda responded. "I'll pick you up after school." Linda headed back downstairs, taking a seat again across from the Fletchers. "I've worked out a plan with Marlowe," she informed the couple. "On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for two hours after school, Marlowe will come by my house. She will study and work on her school work with my son. He's doing really well in school, and I think he'll be a positive influence on Marlowe."

Mrs. and Mrs. Fletcher exchanged looks for a moment. Mrs. Fletcher looked back at Linda. "Will you be home?" she asked. "We just don't want the kids to be alone."

"I'll be home," Linda reassured her. "I'll pick Marlowe up after school and I'll drive her home afterwards." The Fletchers, although very hesitant about the idea, agreed.