The Scarred

Chapter 3

"The hell is happening?" Penelope whispered to herself as she stared with a wide eye. She carded her hand through her hair, unsure of what to do, what to think. Whoever was behind this, they were patient and calculative. It frightened her. It frightened her and yet she hadn't even met the person. That was the most unnerving part about it all.

Her hand moved to pick up the larger shards to throw away, then to grab the broom and sweep the rest. She scrambled to look through every hatch, every door, cabinet and closet for anything that might have been left behind. Yet there was nothing. Once more, the only sign that someone had been there was the face that had been cleared already. There was no lingering smell, not even a hair. Not a single spec of dust out of place.

"Okay," She muttered. "Okay - okay." Her mouth rambled on as she carried out her night routine, heart pounding faster than she would have appreciated as she tried to relax under the warm stream of water. Her feet padded against the cold tile as she tended to her formulating scars, pacing the small room before throwing on her pajamas. She raced to her coat, fumbling through the pockets for her phone and shuffled through her contacts. The coldness of it rested against her ear as she chewed on her cheek, wiggling the fingers of her hand absentmindedly.

"Penny?" The familiar voice made her perk up. "What's up?"

"I just needed someone to talk to..." The woman practically whispered. She made her way to lay on her bed, listening attentively to the shuffling in the background over the phone.

"Oh, 'course, hun," Emma had an underlying tone of understanding in her voice. "Did everything hold up okay at the shop?" Penelope thought back to the bald man.

"Yeah - everything went fine. Sold three vases." She started fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

"Three? That's amazing!"

The voices echoed in the auditorium, the petite woman messing with the tassel that hung from her head. Everyone migrated to their families after having all walked the stage, visiting friends from time to time to say their goodbyes or reminisce in their memories. The woman searched for a familiar brunette bun.

"Penny!" She turned to face the voice, but was soon met with engorging flames. They towered over them all, everyone screaming and scattering in a panic. "Penny!" The voice screeched again, but no matter how many times she spun around and searched, she couldn't find them. She started sweating profusely, both from the heat and stress of it all. Flames licked her skin, almost teasing it before it grew volatile.

Penelope's eye snapped open, breathing heavily. Her hair stuck to her skin from the cold sweat she was left in. She laid there for a moment or two, collecting herself as best as she could. She imagined wind humming through her window, birds chirping as the sun's first rays peaked through the clouds. She closed her eye again, imagining a bird.

What kind of bird it was, what it was doing. Perhaps it was a Swallow? It's boring, brown feathers smooth as they glided and fluttered. The curious black eyes that fidgeted as it cocked and turned its head.

She took deep breaths, opening her eye once more to sit herself up on the edge of her twin bed. She stared at the soft carpet below her, loathing herself for waking up at such an ungodly hour. The faintest shade of blue colored sky if she were to squint. Penelope then stood, stumbling over to her dresser to change out of her now drenched sleepwear. She thought about taking a quick heat dump to cool her off, but the amount of energy it took for her to get in the shower right now made her shudder, so she settled with splashing cold water on her face instead.

She trudged into the living room to her box TV, turning it on and having the low noise of the news play in the background as she migrated to the kitchen. She decided to simply pop an egg sandwich from the freezer into the microwave, pouring herself a glass of milk to go along with it. She bounced when she plopped onto the couch, pulling the lap blanket from the top of it to wrap herself up in.