Chim - Traffic

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Kimba, help us with me hair and face please." I cross the room to Cheryl, who is sat on one of the dining room chairs we've brought into our front room. I tie her hair back into a pony tail, slipping that into the back of her suit. I take care with the parting above her forehead, before applying the gel. I then move to her face, taking the eyelash glue, applying it to her upper lip. Leaving it to dry for a few seconds, I pick up the short fake hair that we had cut off one of my old Barbie dolls earlier that afternoon, using tweezers to stick the short hairs to her face. When that is complete, I finish with a light line of eyeliner, framing her brown orbs. She stands as I begin applying my lipstick, finding it more difficult with the long, black pointed nails protruding from my hands, guarding the gaudy rings I had put on earlier, before making sure for the millionth time that my wig is straight and secure. Nicola glides into the room, the long white dress she's wearing rippling behind her. She had draped her mother's old veil over the white wig she bought, to give an eerie effect, and when she glides towards you, it's quite frightening. Every inch of her visible skin is painted white, and combined with her already pale complexion, she almost looks almost translucent. Nadine follows Nicola, sipping her wine through a straw as to not ruin her own coloured skin, leaving a green stain where her lips were. I use the eyeliner to draw on her fake eyebrows, colouring them in. She places her pointed hat on her head as I check the mole on her face, making sure it's still in place. Nodding, she heads towards the kitchen, probably in search of more wine, her black cloak and broomstick trailing behind her. When Sarah reappears from the bathroom, I genuinely jump. Her body has been wrapped bandages that we had soaked in water with used tea bags, creating an old, brown shade on the fabric. The bandages on the inside of the hooded part of her costume had been painted black, along with her face, and her hair dyed the same colour for the occasion. The only things you could see where eyes and her teeth, when she smiled or spoke. Even her eye colour had changed, swapping her usual blue for black contacts.

       Nadine reappears, smiling. "Kimba, we all look amazing. You should start doing this stuff for a living."

       The other three agree with her, and I blush, hoping my make-up is hiding it. "Thanks, guys."

       "Ok, seeing as I'm the only one without paint all over me, I'll call the taxi." Cheryl says, pulling her mobile out, calling the car before putting her top hat on.

       No more than ten minutes later, the speed surprising me, we're sat in the back of a large taxi, accepting the driver's compliments on our costumes.

       A while later, traffic and trick or treaters crossing the roads holding us up, we arrive at the club. A small child, probably five or six, passing with his mother, dressed as a devil, screams, pointing at Sarah. He only cries louder when she smiles, extending a bandaged hand. Sarah turns to apologise to his mother, only to see she is barely holding back laughter, hurrying down the street with her son. We join the line into the club, and after maybe forty-five minutes, reach the front.

       "Wow, ladies..." He double glances at Cheryl. "You look great!" He continues, unclipping the velvet rope. "I would ask for some ID, but I doubt I'd be able to accurately identify any of you." He laughs, gesturing with his thumb. "Photo booth to enter the competition is just inside, on the right. Enjoy your night."

       Cheryl, Sarah, Nadine and I walk past, thanking him, Nicola rolling past, causing him to let out a quiet 'wow'. We laugh as we enter the booth, beginning to position ourselves ready for the photograph. I watch Sarah close her eyes, effectively becoming invisible, before the flash goes off, and I silently commend myself, realising for the first time myself how authentic we look.

       "Right, we want four or five copies to keep girls?" Nadine asks, grabbing some change to pay for the prints.

       "Four." I answer. "Cheryl and I can share."