☆

"COME ON YOU LUMP!" ADA GROANED, as she lugged Clara into the home. The girl moaned through a foolish smile as her feet refused to cooperate. The older girl had her hands under her sister's arms as she attempted to drag her up the stairs. It seemed that Ada had immediately clocked what the girl had done because contrary to Clara's belief, Ada wasn't stupid. She always knew far more than Clara thought. "Come on, you baby, let's get you to bed."

"'m not tired," Clara mumbled, as she haphazardly stood to her feet at the top of the stairs, her knees almost buckling under her weight. The girl chuckled airily as Ada caught her once more, slinging her arm around her shoulders.

"Mhm...I'm sure you're not. But you need to sleep this off." Ada grunted as she opened the spare bedroom door and helping Clara cross the threshold.

"Sleep what off?" Clara asked with feign innocence as she attempted to bat her eyelashes. Ada shook her head as she led her toward the bed and dropped her onto its softness. The younger girl fell backwards with a gleeful yell before she was yanked up straight by her sister.

Tutting, Ada took off the girl's coat, her hand reaching into both of the pockets. Clara watched in confusion while Ada let out a heavy almost disappointed sigh as she withdrew two empty blue bottles. Ones that were filled to the brim when Clara had left earlier. It dawned on Clara that Ada had noticed the peculiarity in Clara. The girl frowned. She hadn't meant to take so much. She just wanted her woe to soothe. Was that such a crime? Clara was silent as Ada crouched in front of her, her downturned, saddened eyes desperately tried to meet Clara's.

"Clara...you have to stop," Ada pleaded, Clara bit down on the inside of her cheek. "It isn't good for you."

"Mhm..."

"You need to fight the urge."

Clara didn't answer, her head turned away from her sister as she avoided the guilt that slowly seeped through the cracks of her person. The girl felt her boots sliding off of her feet as Ada fell back into silence. The two sister's worked in silence, neither daring to look at one another. Clara slowly took off her suit jacket and allowed Ada to take it and place it on the chair across the room. The youngest girl fell limply onto the bed, her hands by her sides awkwardly. Ada sighed as she placed her hands on her waist and looked back at Clara.

"We'll talk in the morning then," the sister muttered, her eyebrows furrowed with worry as she flicked off the light above them. Ada moved towards the door, as Clara stared up at the ceiling. "Goodnight."

There was a beat of silence.

"...will you stay?"

Ada faltered in her movements as Clara's cracked and tired voice filled the room. The silence lingered as both occupants couldn't decipher what to do next. The youngest Shelby's eyes remained pointed towards the ceiling, the overwhelming feeling of regret crawling up either side of her body, engulfing her wrists and ankles and gripping them firmly against the bed, its tendrils slithering around her neck and snuffing out every breath lingering in her throat.

Ada was the first to move.

Without a word, the older girl made her way back towards the bed and her rigid sister. Clara didn't dare shift her still position, she wasn't sure if her body had simply given up function or if her mind feared that moving would disrupt the thick, unwavering silence that lingered. The girl felt the bed move as Ada moved to tentatively lie down beside Clara.

The silence remained and all of a sudden Clara was ten years old lying beside an eighteen-year-old Ada as the two comforted one another from the gloom and darkness of the war raging in the outside world. Clara remembered curling into Ada's side, each of them whispering silent prayers for their brothers' safety. Each would take it in turns to share tidbits of memories of their brothers. Clara would tell Ada of all the stories Arthur told her and of how Tommy had taught her to waltz; her feet upon his toes as they spun around the fire-lit living room. The younger girl would smile and giggle, only to fall into the pit of worry until Ada would cut in and tell her of all the stupid things they'd done in the past. Ada had told Clara of how she and their brothers had to run from The Garrison to their Watery Lane home with a bucket of beer clutched between them for their father. Clara had giggled at this, imagining all four of her elder siblings young and stumbling around like headless chickens carrying an overflowing bucket.

In the bed, their worries had seemed so minimal. They were in their own little world, where a war wasn't on and they weren't struggling with money and where their brothers were tucked up safely in the rooms next door or the houses across the way. They had been safe in the bed. Safe from the outside world where people of all kinds posed millions of threats. It was in the bed that secrets were shared between the siblings, where Ada inevitably told Clara all about Freddie and their endeavours. It was where Clara had hidden the first night their brothers were back.

She had felt like a little child but she had felt safer than usual.

Clara felt Ada's hand carefully move and lay atop her own. The girl tried her hardest not to flinch but found herself wishing she had inched away. This urge seemed not to go unnoticed as Ada hesitantly shifted to move, but Clara had stopped her, turning her own hand to clasp her older sister's. Hot met cold as their fingers looped together, Ada's soothing hand warming up Clara's shivering palm.

"I didn't mean to," Clara whispered eventually. The silence in the room fell as the small voice echoed across each of the four walls. "I never do."

"You're sick, Clara," Ada swallowed as if tentative to speak up as her young sister talked. "and if you don't stop you're going to kill yourself, you know...you'll die."

Clara turned her head away from her sister at the words. Her words all rang true, of course. Clara knew that and there was no avoiding it.

"...I don't think I'll ever get better," the Shelby girl's soft and weakened voice murmured. "I...I take it and it makes me feel better. It makes my head straight and my body lighter. And when I stop...when I stop taking it, I tumble down, and down, and down. And I can't stop that either. And that tumble, I can't recover from because it just keeps going and going and going until I can't feel right, I can't see, I can't think."

A single tear traced its way down Clara's hollowed cheekbone as she verbalised her thoughts to her sister, who watched the girl with careful and sorrowful eyes.

"...and snow? Snow makes it all go away; the pain, the suffering, the sadness, the tumbling. It all fades until I'm back in the game. It clouds everything. And when I stop, it all floods right back in and I drown. I drown in the weakness and the tiredness of my body and mind. I drown and I drown until I throw myself a lifeline."

"You could've told me...you could've told me and we could've spoken and I could've helped," Ada's words were stammered and hurt. Clara couldn't decipher whether the hurt was from the secret being withheld or from the retelling of the suffering she endured. "I would've helped you."

"I don't want help. I didn't want help then, I don't want it now," Clara sharply cut in. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip; she could taste a sharp metallic twang flood into her mouth. "I don't want help. I just want everyone to stop. Stop treating me like a child, a convalescent, a caution. I came here to avoid that."

"Clara..."

"No. I said what I had to say," She paused, her heartbeat pounding painfully through her veins. "People are so quick to jump to my aid like I'm a damsel in distress, but when I actually was in distress, I hid it so well that nobody noticed...bar two people. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"But, I–" Ada spoke up once more, her voice low and wavering.

"Goodnight, Ada" Clara kept her hand in her sister's as she shut her eyes tightly. Her breathing was unsteady and shaky, yet she didn't dare reopen her eyes. She couldn't bear the look of pity so many wore when Clara spoke. It was an ugly look, a repulsive one even. It made the girl recoil into herself and curse any of those who adorned it. She soon found her breathing slowing and her eyelids growing heavier.

"I wish you'd have told me...I understand why you didn't but you're not alone."

Ada's soft reassurance was the last thing Clara heard before she drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

☆

CLARA OFTEN PRIDED HERSELF on her ability to master the art of avoidance. She had woken up long before Ada the morning after she'd stumbled home to her sister's townhouse. She figured her sister was exhausted as the elder didn't stir once as Clara untangled their clasped hands and sat up from the bed. Ada hadn't moved as the younger girl dressed and readied herself to leave. Her sister hadn't even woken up when Karl had started to play with his toy soldiers in the bedroom down the hall, commanding them to march in circles and obey his rules.

Clara watched from the doorway to the boy's bedroom as the soldiers toppled one by one and as Karl cried out in frustration. It was an interesting sight and Clara felt the faintest hint of amusement flood her mind as the boy kicked and threw his soldiers repeatedly. His devil-like spirit had evidently not been outgrown. The girl silently shifted her position and retreated down the hall to the guest bedroom.

Ada was now sitting upright in the bed when the younger girl entered. Clara moved swiftly around the room, her eyes straying far from her sister. The heat of embarrassment clung to the skin of her neck as remnants of their conversation the night before drifted along the membrane of her memory. She grabbed her coat from the chair where Ada had placed it not so long ago.

"Good morning to you too," Ada grumbled as her eyes knitted together, "What are you doing up so early?"

"I'm going home," Clara briskly stated as she slipped her arms through the warm jacket. Ada seemed to snap to the reality of the situation as she jumped to her feet in concern. "I'm going to take the nine o'clock train."

"Are you sure?" She questioned, "Are you sure home is the best place? You're always welcome to stay here for a bit longer." Clara grimaced as she reached beside the bed to grab her muddied boots.

"There's no place like home, right?" Clara harshly chuckled, the bitter words felt foreign on her tongue.

"Don't forget that this was also your home for a short while,"

"This wasn't a home, it was a haven...Havens are temporary, home is unfortunately forever."

"Then make this your home," Ada argued, "Come stay here permanently. We have the room and I'm sure Tommy wouldn't mind you working from up here and if you're up here I can keep an eye on you." Clara stood up stiffly, her cerulean eyes locking on her sister's.

"No, I won't have you spending your days watching over me like I'm a threat," The younger girl concluded, "I'm going home."

Ada's teeth gently gnawed at her bottom lip, her arms folding over her chest tightly. Clara waited for a reaction as the two merely stared at one another in anticipation, the silence delving between the divide. Ada, as always, moved first, as she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Clara. The girl didn't pull away from the hug, yet she didn't reciprocate it. She merely existed within the confines of Ada's arms, allowing the warmth of her sister to permeate through her goose-bumped skin.

The two stood in silence in the hug, allowing it to linger for moments longer.

Clara, as usual, was the first to pull away from the embrace, and with a grimace she backed away from the woman. Silently, she took one last look at her sister, nodded and exited the bedroom, leaving Ada to frown and fret by herself.

☆

FINN SHELBY WAS IN A STATE OF DISARRAY WHEN he saw Clara casually strolling down Watery Lane. The girl had kept her head down throughout the entirety of her walk from the train station to home, keeping to herself as those around her got swept up in the hustle and bustle of it all. His steps were quick and unusually careful as he ran towards his sister.

"Clara!" He called out frantically, his hands on his knees as he gathered his breath in front of the girl.

"Finn," Clara grumbled in response as she paused in her path. Her younger brother flung himself at her, his arms dangling around her neck. The girl squirmed in his tight hold. "What's wrong?" The boy pulled away in confusion.

"What do you mean what's wrong? I'm comforting you," Finn's eyebrows scrunched together.

"Why?" She snapped, immediately feeling a burning guilt sear into her soul as Finn recoiled. The boy searched her face for any semblance of lies.

"Oh...fuck!" He swore, his hand atop his peaky hat. The girl shifted, now rather concerned as to why her little brother seemed to have grown worried. "You haven't heard?" Clara shifted her stance as she smothered the look of curiosity that yearned to plaster itself across her face.

"Spit it out already," she drawled monotonously, as her arms folded over her chest. Her chest was tight and almost concave as her heart fluttered with nerves. Finn sized up her stiff body, his eyes wide and questioning as his mouth opened and closed.

"Penny's getting married," he hurriedly answered after a long glare from the girl. Clara scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I know that,"

"No! She's getting married like now! Right now, down in All Saints!" Finn cried out interrupting Clara's bored tone.

The girl straightened at her brother's rushed words. She felt her jaw loosen in shock. She looked around before she immediately pushed passed Finn in a hurried run. She could hear Finn's feet slap across the road as he followed.

"Finn! Don't bloody follow me!" She called back to her little brother, as she picked up the pace until she was sprinting through the streets of Small Heath. Hair whipped around her sunken face as her cold eyes remained dead ahead of her as she wove in and out of side streets and lanes. The church spire was peaking over the rooftops as Clara grew closer and closer to the church.

Clara noticed that the church doors were open as she slowed to a stop outside of them. Inside, dozens upon dozens of people sat mindlessly in pews, their heads turned forward towards the ever loving bride and groom. The Shelby girl walked forward slowly and surely until she was snug inside the church doors, slipping off to the left where people stood in tandem their teary eyes watching the scene ahead of them play out. The girl settled in front of the side door to the church, her head low as she listened to the priest give his speech.

For the first time since Clara had stepped into the church, she allowed her eyes to drift upwards and look towards the happy couple. Penny stood opposite Anthony Margrave at the top of the church. Penny looked angelic. Her white dress stopped just above her ankles, its lace hem skirting the floor. Penny smiled a smile that Clara recognised, a smile that upheld an image and hid thousands of unspoken words behind her closed mouth. Her beaded lace train flowed softly behind her, its beginning perched within a glittering silver tiara that perched and nestled within the golden tresses of her hair.

Penny Crawford was art; Only meant to be observed from a far and forbidden to be touched.

To most Penny must've looked overjoyed, her eyes brimming with excitement that stemmed from the phenomenon of young unadulterated love. She even had Clara fooled every few seconds. Clara didn't know why the scene ahead of her yanked at the essence of her heart, her eyes frozen on the scene in front of her. Clara had moved on. Clara had loved moving on yet, watching the girl she tumbled into love with, the girl who had witnessed so many changes in the Shelby girl, the girl who had once understood every morsel of Clara's being, Clara felt like she was mourning. Mourning the loss of what was; what could've been. Mourning the break of a nostalgic connection she had once treasured.

Clara Shelby was mourning Penny Crawford and she wasn't even dead.

"Do you Anthony James Margrave Jr. take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"" The priest questioned. The Shelby girl watched as the pompous man shifted and smiled towards Penny.

"I do," Anthony sighed, his eyes twinkling under the lights. Clara silently scoffed as she folded her arms over her chest.

"And do you, Penelope Elizabeth Crawford, take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Clara waited with bated breath as Penny nodded at the priest.

"I do," Penny eventually smiled, her wide eyes filled with emotions as she gripped Anthony's hands. "I really do." The two held hands lovingly, the sight causing Clara to feel sick to her stomach.

"Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace" the priest finally spoke, his eyes drifted over the crowd. Clara shifted and a part of her body urged her to step forward; out of jealousy or pure spite, she didn't know.

Her eyes glanced around as silence was cast over the church. She shouldn't step forward. She shouldn't say anything...should she? Clara didn't know what her body was doing before she was pulled back by a firm hand on her shoulder. Before she could even decide what to do the ceremony had moved on, and just like that she had missed her last chance. She didn't look behind her as she went to move forward once more, but this time she was stopped by a soft voice. One which had been so unheard by her. The person had said one word, and one word alone caused her to falter in her steps and remain planted to her place.

"Don't," the person whispered, and for once, Clara listened.

And she watched as Penny Crawford was pulled into a kiss sealing her fate.

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[unedited]

SO...HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL READERS!

It's been a while and I sincerely apologise, I've just been so swamped with everything and I've had a major case of writers block (which may explain why this chapter is so choppy!)

ANYWAYS, I HAVE ANOTHER SHELBY SISTER BOOK ON THE WAY! It's about Eleanor Shelby and quite like Clara she's the second youngest Shelby— however, that's where their similarities end! Let me know if you'd be interested!!!

I love you all and here's your weekly meme!