FREAK SHOW

Chapter 5: The Cheshire Cat

Chapter 5: The Cheshire Cat

~ "Everyone wants to be the sun to lighten up everyone's life, but why not be the moon, to brighten in the darkest hour." ~ unknown

Scarlett didn't wake up pleasantly. She was woken up by a hard thwack on her face, followed by another on her arm. She instinctively covered her head as more hits came at her. They were forceful but not as painful of someone truly trying to hurt her.

The blows then stopped as if noticing she was awake. Peeking through her hands that were shielding her face, Scarlett saw Irene above her with her face screwed up in anger and a threatening pillow upraised in her hand. Startled and confused, Scarlett tried to stand up but Irene only pushed her back down onto the bed. What was happening? Did she do something?

Throwing the worn pillow onto the floor, Irene propped her hands on her hips and looked down onto the younger girl with a frown -one that was almost like a mother who was scolding her child. Scarlett gulped; that wasn't a good sign.

The woman's hand shot out and yanked Scarlett's wrist out from under the covers. Irene glared at the red line on her wrist, anger and disappointment evident upon her expression. Scarlett immediately felt heat rise to her cheeks with the shame she was feeling. She regretted the decision more than anything and having Irene yell at her about it would make her feel even more horrible about it than she already did. Because one thing Scarlett did know was that when Irene needed to say something she would do it in the most dramatic way possible.

"Scarlett, I thought you were different than the other girls, even if I didn't show it I truly did think that. I would've yelled at you yesterday if I wasn't busy with Bruce. How fucking stupid are you," she began, her voice high, "you think killing yourself solves all the problems huh? Do I have to babysit you now because of your attempt? Wow your life is so hard; imagine what we feel! I could strangle you right now." Please do. Scarlett bit her lip and tried not to meet Irene's darkened olive eyes, instead quivering them down to the woman's ridiculously purple high heels.

"This," Irene shook Scarlett's wrist violently, "doesn't do anything for yourself! It only makes it worse! You're such a little whiny bitch. Suck it up and move on, that's what we all do. This is your life now, deal with it; this is our life on the daily." Scarlett rubbed teary eyes with her free hand, flustered with emotion.

Exhaling out deeply through her nose, Irene straightened up and limply dropped Scarlett's wrist. "I want to see you at breakfast. I don't want you in here moping." With that, Irene fixed her red hair and walked out, her heels clicking against the wood floor.

Silence. Her rant was short but very effective...and loud. Scarlett was sure the others heard Irene's shrill voice with these thin walls.

She stared at the floor for a moment, unshed tears sitting in the pools of her eyes, blurring the sight of the dusty wooden floor panels. Knowing that Irene would come back in to yell if she didn't see her at breakfast, Scarlett was forced to get up, wipe the tears, and dress. This time, unlike the past few days, she attempted to make herself presentable: brushing her teeth with Irene's toothbrush (which she prayed that Irene would never find out), combing through her long blonde hair (it felt like navigating through a jungle because of the amount of knots), applying lip balm (her lip's have been dry and cracked from dehydration), and dressing up slightly with a sundress, despite having to wear ratted sneakers. And before going out the door, Scarlett slid a headband on, holding back her hair from her face. She wanted people to see her face for once, because it seemed like all she had been doing recently was hiding it. She didn't hide the scar on her wrist either; it would make it seem to people more of a thing to be ashamed of if she did that.