24. Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
Sunshine
Three Hours Ago
Snip.
Snip.
Clank.
Scissors drop into the sink with a metallic clank, landing on chunk after chunk of mix-length locks of hair.
In the mirror's reflection, I see my eyes staring back at me, but the woman there is not one I recognize.
She's frail, her skin’s gaunt with shadows bruising beneath pale blue eyes, chapped lips, and the tendrils of hatred oozing out of her.
Don't ask me when I turned into this...shell. I don’t remember.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped being Sadie and shifted through a painful metamorphosis. It stripped everything I thought I knew about me, and tossed every piece into a pit. All that remains is a small voice crying in some dark recess of my mind, and this.
Across the glass, my hand swipes for sharp edges of film someone stuck to it to fuck with me. It’s lying. The woman can’t be me. I’m not in this body. It’s just an illusion built by monsters.
When I don’t find the plastic-like fringe, my chewed nails try next. They’re raw; blood stains the corners where my teeth ripped keratin from the fragile quick last night. The very tips of the finger pads are growing thick with callus now that I’ve gnawed the flesh off the ends.
No, I think that was the night before. Maybe? They wouldn't hurt if they were that old, I think. So, it had to be today, but what’s today?
On the vanity where marble pinches the skin of my knees, I stand so my raw digits dig at the mirror's northern edge.
Simple screws and clear plastic mounts keep it attached to the wall, harboring the liar hiding behind it.
There's no other explanation—she's back there.
Warping the image I see in the glass, fucking with me.
I'll get to her one way or another, and when I do, I'll rip her fucking head off.
Heat from the glaring overhead light burns my eyes the longer I’m here.
I can feel my skin sizzle and writhe as the seconds pass.
To escape, I crouch to the right of the sink and snatch up the scissors—they’ll help me get to her.
My fist wraps around the metal shank and finger rings before the closed blades stab into the wall at the mirror’s brim.
Boring. Scraping. Gouging plaster out of the way.
Just a little further and I'll have it off and can squeeze behind and grab her.
At its sudden jerk, my heart rate shoots through the roof. I’m almost there, a little…bit…more.
Feeling the glass bow, I leave the scissors embedded as I twist to grip the edge of the counter and heave with everything I have.
My muscles strain as sweat begins to bead and trickle from my forehead.
The harder I pull, the less it moves, as if there’s a force sucking on the backside and it’s pissing me off!
Spinning, fury boils over, yet I come face to face with Kate. Seeing her, inches away from my nose, rips a scream from my abused lips that pounds against my inner skull as it echoes back to me.
My world tilts when I release the scissors and take a swing at Kate, the rapid movement confiscates my balance and knocks me back.
Pain shoots up my spine into my neck and head when I hit the floor.
To the right, I roll, groan, and raise onto my hands and knees.
The insides of my chest revolt, refusing me a breath I so desperately need.
I'm going to kill her, even if I have to cut her out of me—she's going to die. I loathe her, hell, all three of them. They've ruined me, condemned everything, and turned me into untethered outrage.
"Fucking bitch!"
Beep beep beep beep beep.
An ear-shattering screech wails through the bathroom without warning.
It grows louder and louder until I feel my eyes bounce inside of their sockets.
Involuntarily, my hands slap over my heated ears when my brain jerks away from the noise.
I sling side to side, futilely trying to throw the siren out of my head.
Beep beep beep beep beep.
"Stop!"
Please, please world, open and swallow me.
Curling into the fetal position, my head cracks against the cold floor as I cower beneath the air.
If I hide here, beneath the gale, I’m safe.
It can’t reach me if I stay low. The light, noise, nothing can.
I’m flat, an untouchable pancake of flesh.
All I have to do is breathe and focus on hiding from the demons.
A loud thump jerks me upward. Wild eyes searching high and low for the intruder.
Left, right, behind me—it's the cunt in the mirror.
Off my knees and back at the vanity, I fist the scissors and stab the glass two, three, four times.
It splinters into the most beautiful array of spiderwebs that arrive at the edges with ire.
Wait, where’d the beeping go?
Why hasn't the glass fallen?
It's glued together I knew it! She's over there, smearing paste on the back to keep it whole.
You've got another thing coming, bitch.
Rearing back to stab it again, the beeping shrieks and rattles the foundation but I pay it no mind.
Not when a black pitch wells thick at the fractures.
I‘m amazed by the way it boils and pulses as if it’s alive.
When it becomes too much to cling to the sharp edges of split glass, it spills over and leaks from the cracks.
Down, down, down it goes. A near transparent tail is left in its wake while heading for the counter littered with barely-there glass.
Millions of hair-like legs explode from the fissures. They race in a thousand directions to flee from the harsh light, skittering over every surface before I realize the faint kiss of their tarsi have begun to patter up my bare legs.
Panic worms its way into my body, seizing my muscles with horror when the swarm punctures itsy bitsy teeth into me.
Up, up, up they come but I can’t move. I’m bound to where I stand by massive silk manacles boil and pulse along mottled skin then burst. Rancid, puss-marbled fluid bleeds into puddles at my feet.
Beep beep beep beep beep.
Roars of microscopic keens erupt at the sonic shrill. Vibrating the silk, it snaps and cuts through the air like a whip. Droves of spiderlings sweep to the floor in a flood, clamoring over each other to get away.
The moment I’m free, I bolt out of the bathroom, tripping over rough carpet that snags my raw toes on the way out. When I could no longer rip the nails from my fingers, I moved on to the ones on my toes. They cry for aid that will never come.
Beep beep beep beep beep.
FUCK, it's louder out here!
"It is oh-eight-hundred."
"Who is that!"
Beep beep beep beep beep.
The carpet irritates my palms and my knees amidst my scrambling. I’m desperate to get to my feet and away from the haunting taking place in my bathroom. The second I feel the plush fibers tickle the bottom of my soles; I run.
There are spiders after me, a beeping robot counting down to the destruction of the world, and Kate’s hiding in the glass.
Through my room, the bedroom door crashes against the wall as it slings open for me to rush through. There aren’t any mirrors in here, no way for ghouls to bite at my heels or devils to skewer me with their tridents.
I disappear into the kitchen and drop on the opposite side of the island. Crushing my back to the small doors, my hand clamps over my mouth to muffle my heavy breathing. They can't get me here, the spiders. No, they're a hundred miles away. I ran so fast, so far.
Where's the beeping?
It died; it had to.
The robot doesn't have enough power to run this far. It must be charged in a safe place, a designated station too bulky to tote around. If it goes too long without the intense voltage, it crumples to its iron knees. Last time, it powered down after two days.
Two days, okay. It's been two. Maybe, I think.
Silence blankets me. Heavy and soothing.
It's over.
I must rest before I must run again.
A tightness in my stomach clenches and releases my guts like a stress ball.
Sometimes it speaks, not human language—what, you think I’m crazy or something?
It’s a low rumble that sends messages to my brain, like all my friends do, but at times I must punish it.
The whispers are dark. Manipulative. Wanting me to do things I’d never dream of.
Taste, lick, bite, chew, swallow—unforgivable things.
“Shut up!” My voice cracks painfully.
It protests by snaring the organs that cushion it from the outside world, then twists. Nothing stops me from doubling over at the waist. Not even when my hands wedge behind the lowest rib and smash the damn thing into submission.
Grumble.
"I said shut up! Why don’t you listen?”
Cold bites into my ass with razor-sharp fangs when I lower to the floor and sit. It feels so good here. Safe, small, firm. I think I'll stay for a little b...it. It won't hurt. My ba...tteries need to... be charged or I ca...n't run.
Shh, shhhhhhhhhh.
The mice are listening.
They've come for the fur blooming like grass inside the fridge. I hate when the door closes, the light goes away. I never see where it hides but I have to catch it— if not for me, for the fur. Helps it grow.
I've already thrown everything else in the garbage disposal. It smelled weird, but now that mice are coming out of the drain I can't, because it will hurt them!
"Not my friends. Ohhhh, noooo. I'll save the mice from the spiders and the metal teeth inside the sink."
It's all gone, no more.
My stomach rumbles, wanting to take what's left. Sometimes I cry and lick whatever's next to me to get a taste. Anything to make the hands strangling my stomach go away.
The sun came up again after being gone for too long.
For a little while, I thought someone turned off my eyes and ripped the switch and wiring out of the wall.
I keep checking though, to see if they’ve fallen out or chose to dangle from my eyelids.
When I touch, on the hunt for blood's sticky residue and the smell of it on my fingers, I always come up empty handed.
Then, I asked the spiders.
Feather-light tippy-taps lurk along the skin of my neck, on their merry way to my ears. There, I can hear them. Faint, teeny tiny whispers but they speak!
It was taking a nap—the sun. Can you fucking believe that? Lazy. We need the sun, okay? What are humans supposed to do when it’s lollygagging around taking fucking naps?
Don’t get me started on the damn mirror.
Kate’s ugly face fills the reflection any time I pass by.
But the worst part is I’m actually sad to see the glass carving her features.
So, I pulled it all down and set it in a pile on the shower floor.
Once I wrenched the water on high, the pain and sadness that I watched fester in the broken shards went away. Washed down the drain—all gone.
Of course, it’s in my fucking way now. Everything is and it has to go!
For another sun-nap, I attacked whatever moved in my cave then banished it!
Outside, there’s a cliff with metal grates that let me see the sky and land beyond.
It’s so pretty; sometimes I want to squeeze through and frolic so my people can see me pave the way with glee.
But the high countess forbids me, therefore, it holds my court safe from invasion.
Further outwith and through the dragon-proof barrier, I cast out filth which has no place in my kingdom. In my royal chambers, chin held high like that of a queen, my subjects are rendered silent.
Good.
They fear me and what I may do. The man holding my coat was just sacrificed to a fire-breathing lizard. It would do the rest of my court well to stay in their place or suffer!
"Trick-or-treat!" I scream.
The door still refuses to open as I stand before it in the best costume ever!
I’m a kitty.
I look like Bruce.
Oh, Bruce... I miss him so much. I...it makes me sad. I should go to him. He needs his mama. We are supposed to exchange hugs and kisses every day, and I owe him! One, two, three, four...wait a second.
"Hey! Give me the candy!" My fist pounds on the barricaded door.
I can hear the rude lady hiding on the other side. Her dog begins to sniff at me from under the wood with huffs so hard dust kicks onto my paws.
That's it.
Giving the door my back, my right leg lifts and launches, slamming into the wood with my boot’s heel until the framework rattles.
I'll get in this damn house one way or another.
Back at the apartment, my candy held protectively against my chest, I twirl my extra-long kitty tail around and around as we plop on the couch and rummage through our spoils.
Kate keeps opening pieces and sniffing them, which makes me giggle.
She has the ugliest face; Liz just rolls her eyes and snatches away the sweet.
With a toss, it lands somewhere on the other side of the living room.
Why she won’t eat what she takes, I don’t know. Always so picky and specific.
“Me next!”
I rummage through the bag for a few seconds, on the hunt for my favorite tangy tablet candies.
When I find them, I can’t stop myself from shaking the container to listen to the pieces rattle within.
I flick my wrist and twist the top off so quick it launches.
In one massive kitty-gulp, I swallow them whole.
They're supposed to be sweet, sour, and fruity, but all I taste is chemical bitterness.
Fuck, these are disgusting.
Displeased, I snatch the bag from Liz and find another goodie—taffy this time. Unwrapped, my teeth grit as sugar punches through the enamel to my jawbone. An ache spreads far and wide; at least it tastes better than the pills.
This is much better.
This is the life.