FALL FROM GRACE | SCREAM

one

In the late evening, in the chilly autumn air, Arabella Solace was walking home from her job at the town's local movie theater, or otherwise known as the only theater in town. The clothes she was wearing wasn't suitable for the change in weather, so ever so often, she pulled at the thin material of her beige cardigan.

Arabella didn't expect to get out as late as she did, seeing as her shift usually ended at eight P.M. on weekends and it was well past that. But unexpectedly, more people had shown up at the theater, leaving more of a mess to clean than usual, and it didn't help that during that rush, someone had accidentally knocked over the popcorn machine while roughhousing with his friend at the concession stand.

Nevertheless, after her shift had ended, Arabella still found herself on her usual route home, walking down the dimly lit streets of Woodsboro, and shivering at every small breeze that passed through her thin clothes.

"God, it's freezing." Arabella mutters to herself, once more pulling at her cardigan in an attempt to give her body some warmth from the approaching autumn air. It was moments like this where Arabella wished she had more of a say in factors of her life because, if it were up to her, she wouldn't be wearing a cardigan that did little-to-nothing to protect her from the cold weather. But in the end, it was her mother who chose her outfits, deciding on what Arabella could or couldn't wear.

When it came to anything in Arabella's life, it was her parents who made the decisions. Her parents nitpicked and chose everything for her so it would suit their idea of a perfect life. It was everything from her clothes to her hair to her mobile phone. Hell, even her so-called friends were handpicked by her parents, too. If it were up to Arabella, she wouldn't be caught dead around the stuck-up, never-have-to-work-a-day-in-my-life assholes that her parents chose for her. But once agan, Arabella did not have a say, leaving her no choice but to follow the rules that her parents delicately laid out for her.

Speaking of things chosen by her parents, the mobile phone that lay discarded at the bottom of her bag began to ring. Hearing the ringing, Arabella stops under a lamppost for its, surprisingly, luminous light and reaches into her bag, searching for a moment before pulling out the mobile phone she rarely used.

Without looking at the caller ID that lit up the small screen, assuming it was just one of her parents calling since they were the only ones to ever call her mobile phone, she answers and places it up to her ear, "Hello?" Arabella questions, her voice as polite as possible in case it was indeed her parents on the other end.

"Hello." A voice echoes through her phone that definitely wasn't either of her parents. Pulling the phone away from her ear for a moment, Arabella glances at the caller ID, only see that there was no caller ID at all. At the same time, the luminous light that shined above her began to flicker and falter, making the teen glance up at the dulling light before placing the phone back to her ear and continuing her walk home, no longer feeling the comfort the light once provided her.

"Hello? Are you still there?" Arabella could hear the voice question once she had put the phone back up to her ear.

"Yes, sorry. Who is this?" Arabella questions the anonymous voice with one simple question going back and forth within her mind. Just who was calling her? If it wasn't her parents, then who was it? Because sure enough, none of her friends, despite having her number for years, would ever call her, which would only leave the people she lived with as the caller.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I think I dialed the wrong number." The voice on the other end sounded genuine in their mistake but Arabella could see through their false confusion, making her furrow her eyebrows. Despite the distortion of their voice, their tone resembled the tone of voice her parents often used when they pretended to forget an event of Arabella's, which happened to be quite often.