MY CHILDHOOD FEAR WAS OF clowns. They absolutely terrified me. Their rainbow wigs, their red noses and lips, the white paint that covered their faces, everything about them kept me up at night. Their laughs frightened me the most. Mother would always convince me I was never going to be taken by clowns and they were never going to eat me alive. Clowns were terrifying to me as a child. Now, they were just displeasing to the eye.
But I never thought I would look like one.
My shoulders sank as I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering where I had gone wrong. I followed every step and I did it all correctly. Did I leave the dye in my hair too long? Or did I rinse it out too soon? Either way, my hair was still orange and I had washed it more than enough times only to fail. I closed my eyes and shook my head at myself. I was, of course, disappointed and having orange hair instead of red was only adding more stress to the heat of the moment. This day was not going well for me and I just needed to go to sleep and let it be over. Tomorrow was going to be a brand new day and I was going to be someone new.
I quickly changed into my pajamas—still a little damp from the rain—and climbed into bed. I stared at the black television screen in front of me and sighed. I never realized how lonely I was until now. When I woke up in the morning, I was not going to wake up knowing Harry was probably downstairs fixing us both bowls of cereal. He was not going to greet me with a bright smile or a warm hug that nearly squeezed me to death. I was going to wake up alone...just me and my orange hair.
Wonderful.
My phone started vibrating on the nightstand beside me and I rolled my eyes, ignoring whoever was calling me. I did not feel like talking to anyone right now. Was this what it felt like when someone put themself on lock down? Did they cut off all communication with the outside world? If not, that was what I was doing. The person calling me would soon enough get the message and leave me alone.
However, they did not.
They called me again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
I had finally had enough and picked up my phone, answering it, "Hello?"
There was nothing but silence.
"Hello?" I screamed.
Torturing silence.
"Look, if this is some kind of prank, you have a big storm coming your way—"
"Sydney?"
My free hand shot out to turn on the lamp and I sat up slowly, my heart threatening to give up on me. I moved my wet hair away from my face and continued to stare ahead at the turned off television. It was late. I knew this. She knew this. Why was she calling me? Better yet, why did I even answer?
"Olivia," I retorted.
"Thank God you answered," she said, choking up a little. "I just...I wanted to check up on you after what happened at the hospital. You stormed out without telling us anything and I asked Harry but he—"
"Don't say his name to me."
"All right," she sighed. "I won't say his name. But he seemed very upset that you left."
I laughed, "He was upset?"
"Yes—"
"He was the one who told me to leave!" I screeched. "He was the one who blamed me for Jillian's death and he was the one who told me leaving would do you all a favor!"
YOU ARE READING
Candles
Fanfiction[C O M P L E T E D ✓] They were curious. They both had their own share of secrets. He was a man living in the present. She was a woman living in the past. He was a candle, ready to see everything she was keeping in the dark. And she was the w...
