Page 18 of Carnival
I almost screamed.
The walls of the tent are covered in blood, trickling down on the ground. Given that it doesn’t reek, I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt and hope it’s fake blood. All around are creepy, porcelain dolls with either an eye missing, their heads separated from their bodies, or the most bone-chilling smiles I’ve ever seen. The entire place gives me the creeps, and I start regretting ever walking inside.
In the middle of the small tent is a woman sitting on a deep purple cushion. She looks old, probably in her late sixties. Her hair is long, falling down to her waist, and in the purest shade of white I’ve ever seen. Her knees are tucked beneath her, a cat with the same fur color as her hair resting on her lap.
Her eyes are closed, and for a moment, I’m unsure if it’s a doll or a person.
“Uh, excuse me?” I take another step forward.
The woman’s eyes snap open, and I think I’m about to throw up. They’re entirely white. No irises, no nothing but pure whiteness in her eye sockets, staring right back at me. Breath hitches in my throat, and I take a moment to compose myself, swallowing the uneasiness.
Such cool contact lenses.
“Ah, my child,’’ she says, voice soft, yet with a certain rasp to it. “Would you like a reading?”
I’m reluctant but also curious. I nod briefly and take a seat across from her. Between us is a small glass table that is big enough to fit only a deck of cards. They’re on the side, and the lady reaches for them, starting to shuffle.
“Tell me,’’ she starts, still working through the cards. “Are you enjoying the carnival?”
I blink, thrown off by the mundane question. “I’ve just arrived. But I’m sure I’ll have a good time.’’
“We’ll see about that.’’
Why the fuck does that sound like a threat?
I try to shake off the dread that’s slowly filling me up and focus on the shuffling of cards. She splits the deck in two and pulls the top two cards of each deck, putting them down. I’m not sure if this is how a tarot reading is done; I’ve never had one, but it looks intriguing.
“Pick a card, child.’’
My eyes dart between each one, and my finger gently reaches for the card on the far left, tapping it twice.
She doesn’t waste a second and flips the card over. I’m staring at it, blankly, because, quite frankly, I don’t know what I’m looking at, and I have no idea what it means.
“Two of Swords,’’ she hums. “Reversed.’’
“And what does that mean?”
“It means that you, my child, are in a state of confusion, aren’t you? There are choices in front of you, and you’re uncertain which path to take. You’re likely scared of the unknown and what it might bring, but you’re also not certain about taking the path you consider to be the right one.’’
Breath hitches in my throat, and I try to reason with her words. I shouldn’t be surprised that she nailed it, but the shock is still evident on my face. That’s how this whole ordeal is making me feel — uncertain and doubtful of myself.
The answers I’m seeking are either to doom me or give me closure, and although I know that I should urge Aria to find out more about what happened to my parents and grandparents, the fear of what she might discover is holding me back.
I don’t get to respond to her, and she flips the second card.
“The wheel of fortune,’’ she muses, but there’s not a single trace of amusement on her face. Her bare eyes are making it nearly impossible to hold solid eye contact, the shivers continuously running down my body. “Inevitable fate,’’ her eyes flicker between the card and my face. “You’re bound to someone — a man — by fate. You can run, but you cannot hide nor escape him.’’
My body goes rigid at the words, and I hear ringing noises in my ears. For a moment, I’m somewhere else completely, because the first and only person that pops into my head when I hear the words is James.
What does she mean when she says I can’t escape him? What sort of sick, twisted fate would tie me together with a murderer?
“Does… does that mean he’s my soulmate?” I ask, voice barely above a whisper.
A deep, rumbling chuckle comes from her, and the cat on her lap purrs, snuggling further into the lady’s lap. Her free hand strokes the back of the cat’s head, looking at me, straight into my eyes.
“My dear, you two have been connected by the stars. You’ll remember soon enough.’’
A small frown appears on my face. Remember what? If she means the night when James took my virginity, there’s not much to remember. Yes, I was drunk, but I remember most of the night. In fact, the only thing I don’t remember is leaving the terror house, but given that I woke up next to Aria, I’d say that she brought me back to the place we were staying.
