Page 30 of Carnival
I already belong to this man, wholeheartedly, mind, body, and soul. He’s holding them hostage, with no intention of ever letting go. The darkened look in his eyes is a sadistic promise — for as long as I’m alive, I’m his.
“Because I’ve waited for so long for you, hellion,’’ he murmurs, my body reacting to his softly spoken words. “Because two years ago, you waltzed in, and you were already mine. I just need to remind you of that. That’s the best answer you’ll get.’’
12
Rose
Soft chirping of birds can be heard in the distance, the soft sunlight of a very warm spring day casting a beautiful shine over the grass. There’s a house in front of me, a bigger one, enough to fit an entire family of six. It’s beautiful, with a garden of bright red roses on each side of the porch. It extends back toward the woods behind the seemingly calm family home.
The lake is peaceful. The light hues of blue reflect from the sunlight, the clean water shining. The peaceful atmosphere fills my veins, and the soft breeze hits my face. Yet, there’s a foggy sense of unease as I skim my surroundings, my eyes falling on three children sitting on a small blanket near the lake, right across from me.
Their faces are blurred, but it’s two boys and a girl, seemingly around the same age. She has long, light brown hair falling down her mid-back. One boy is behind her, adding a lot of small daisies to her braid, decorating it with careful movements.
The girl stops for a moment and turns her head to the side and takes a quick glance at the boy. Although I cannot see their faces, I can hear her soft giggles reverberating all around us. The two seem to be in their own world for a little while, until the other boy that’s across from her clears his throat.
Something in my chest tightens.
I know these children from somewhere, yet I can’t pinpoint exactly where from. There’s something about this scenery that completely causes me to halt. Perhaps it’s the way the fog is getting thicker the louder the children’s laughter is getting. Perhaps it’s the chills that continuously run down my body, or the fact that I’m unable to move from this very spot.
Every fiber of my being is yelling at me to run forward, to cross the lake, swim through it, and go to the children. A wave of eeriness creeps up my neck, as if something terrible is about to happen. The longer I’m standing there, unmoving, the greater the hog gets.
The bright blue sky is replaced by different hues of grey, some dark, some light, and all creating a sensation that the storm is brewing. The wind starts blowing, the cold air hitting my face and causing the coldness to reach the depth of my bones.
The boy across from the girl leans forward and seemingly whispers something in her ear. They’re too far from me to even try and hear what they’re speaking about, and although their faces are blurred, I can read the body language of the boy behind the girl. He’s angry; he’s almost desperately trying not to lash out at the other boy.
The little girl’s laughter turns high-pitched, and my body all but recoils at the sound. My ears start ringing, and my visiongets blurry as I press my palms to my ears, crouching down, trying to block out the noise.
My eyes are squeezed shut, my head buried in my knees, and no matter how much I want to shake off the eerie sensations, it’s impossible. It’s as if she’s right there, laughing in such a creepy manner, right into my ear.
But when I force myself to open my eyes, there’s no one near me.
The fog is so thick that I can no longer see anything in front of me; the grass under my bare feet is sharp, wet, and uncomfortable to stand on. I push myself back into a standing position, eyes skimming around me.
The laughter has stopped, but the fear of being watched doesn’t leave me. Nothing but mass and masses of fog are around me, and with each turn I take, I’m unsure if I’m even moving or if it’s all in my head. The lake that was once near is nowhere to be found — which I should be grateful for. Knowing my luck, I’d drown.
The mist clears a small path in front of me, and I don’t hesitate to step forward. My feet are getting cold, palms sweaty, and goosebumps start appearing on my skin. I flinch every time I think I hear something, only to turn around and see nothing — no one.
Then, I stop moving.
My blood runs cold, my hands fisting by my side, almost unable to move them. My entire body goes rigid, breath coming out my mouth in short pants, my heartbeat picking up the pace. It takes me a couple of seconds to comprehend what I’m seeing — though I’m still struggling.
The little girl from earlier stands a few inches away from me. If I dared to reach with my hand, I’d be able to touch her. Her little white dress has the ends coated in a crimson shade of red, dripping down on the grass. Some of it trickles down her legs, her bare feet entirely covered in the liquid.
The daisies in her hair have wilted, some starting to fall out, the previously cute braid now a messy nest on her head. But that’s not what’s got me creeped out. It’s not the fact that she’s soaked, head to toe, as if she’d taken a dip in the lake earlier, either.
It’s the mask that she has on her face.
The same clown mask James has. It has the same crack, same details, and same face drawn on. Yet, seeing it so up close on such a young child causes my stomach to churn, the ache spreading all the way up to my chest, and I’m not sure how to explain the feeling.
Her eyes are pitch black; even the sclera of her eyeballs are in the same shade. I straighten up, my body unmoving. I’m paralyzed in fear, the sheer horror of what I’m seeing enough to freeze me. I swallow a thick lump as she takes a step forward, looking at me with those devil eyes, staring right into my soul.
“Why are you here, Rosalie?” She tilts her head to the side painfully slowly, and I don’t dare to look away. Her voice is sweet — almost syrupy sweet, to the point of causing a wave of discomfort to spread through my body.
“And… where am I?” I whisper slowly, not trusting my own voice.
She giggles, but it’s the darkest, most disturbing sound I’ve ever heard. It reminds me of the horror movies I used to watch,and judging by the way this is developing, I’d say I’m this little girl’s next victim.
“A dream.’’
