* * *
We arrive at a Victorian style home. A house that towers over my head and is nothing but dark maroons, browns and blacks, and juts out in awkward positions at awkward places. The window pane is a dingy sea foam like a misfit; which is pretty much how I'm feeling. The grass is a dark green with a tinge of brown at the tips, and the walk way has broken cobblestone.
"Come," Ms. Emeralds motions me to get out of the car.
Why I do this, I have no idea. Absolutely no idea.
The wind mercilessly whips me in my face as I step out in to the cold September air. Damn, I wish the old fart bag back in the hell cell equipped his 'merchandise' with a coat. Ms. Emeralds mutters under her breath as she searches through her key chain for the right key to open the door. I peer at her key chain with endless keys on them. All very big and extravagant, which is pretty much the word to describe Ms. Emeralds. Her brown frizzy hair going in all directions, but somehow, she makes it work pinning it in the right places making it into a unique up-do.
"Aha!" She lets a small pleased giggle out of her mouth. "Enter, Ms...."
"Broker."
"But of course,"
I walk into a dimly lit home with a tangy-musty sort of smell, like a sweat shop coated in perfume. Ew. I hear the click of her heels walk to the side of the room, my eyes following her bright suit as she flicks on the light switch. I get a full view of the house. It's actually quite beautiful, like a comfortable grandma's home. It's very antique, with flowers decorating most of the wall and even more fake flowers projecting beautifully from the ceramic vases (the only reason I know it's ceramic is because of that stupid home etc. class I was forced to take with the old, creepy guy who drops sexual comments on every female in the class.), and it's full of dark, mahogany woods. I spot a painted picture of a beautiful lady dressed in cat-like apparel and smokey eyeshadow with pink lipstick and her small tongue sticking out of her mouth. There's whips and chains behind her and she's perched on a bright red leather couch, her long legs dangling off. She looks very seductive, as if she's beckoning you to join her in the picture.
And I'm pretty sure everyone whose seen the picture that's of the male species would love to.
"Annie? You're home?" I jump at the sudden voice I hear. I glance West to find where it came from, only to find that there's a twisting stair case that I had no idea was there, but then again, there are a lot of small details in this house I haven't yet noticed.
Ms. Emeralds looks in the same direction.
"Yes, Malorie, darling come here! We have a new edition to the home!"
I hear Malorie grunt, but moments later I hear a soft thud coming down the hallway. I poke at the hole in my tank top, getting nervous about what is going to come down the stairs. The first thing I see is pink. A very shocking pink that stands out on the ordinary stairs. So bright and shocking that I have to squint. Next I see (yet another neon thing on her) a white tank top that's plain but it draws attention to her caramel skin. I trail down her body and notice black panty-hoes with the strappy thing at the top that reminds me of an old fashioned slut. Her all-white creepers making loud clacking noises as she trails her way down the stairs, a wrist full of friendship bracelets varying in colors and designed to look like tribal print. I've always wanted to know how to do that. My friend Abrannah and I once tried, but it ended up only being in knots, and very jumbled up.
A colorful mess.
Her hair is in a sloppy, but fashionable bun (I could never do it, so I kept my hair straight down or braided off to the side), but I notice it's frizzy. Just another cool thing about this 'Malorie' person. Her lips are bright red, and her eyes are round and hazel, thick black liner giving them this "Don't fuck with me," look.
She stares at me and it send volts down my spine. She holds it for a while, before dragging them to Ms. Emeralds.
"Who the hell's this?" her eyes returning to me, giving me a once-over. I gulp, or atlest try to before realizing I haven't had anything to drink in 7 hours.
"A new one I found! She'll be the opener for the show, and I thought you'd show her around and give her tips! Where are Delilah and Zoe?" Delilah and Zoe? There's actually more of these people?
But Malorie just shrugs, and shifts from one Creeper platform to the other.
"Yeah, whatever. Come on." She motions for me to follow.
Am I really ready for this? Then I realize I have no choice, and trail along behind her.
YOU ARE READING
Used. (EDITING)
Mistero / ThrillerEvalyne Broker isn't perfect, but try telling that to anyone who knew her in the small town she grew up in. Her friends think the world of her: a sassy, bold, and beautiful leader to their friend group. Evalyne is the girl who can call the shots and...
