The Case of the Puppeteer

Untitled Part 4

It was a good day. Except, well, it wasn't. It could have been a good day,great even: it had all the potential to be. The air was crisp, the leaves were satisfyingly crunching under my ankle boots (it was the first time since the incident that I was able to bring myself to look presentable), and the smell of bonfire was wafting to my nose, much to my delight. There was just something about the fall. It was nearing the end of September, and just as stores prepare in advance for Halloween, so were the people. It used to make me smile in amusement and fascination to see all the costumes people adorned, but now I was just paranoid and selectively focusing on the terrifying ones.

The night Spencer came over, unannounced but not unappreciated, was uneventful, and I haven't heard a peep from him since. I had a sneaking suspicion he was avoiding me and going out of his way to do so: it was a small town, and when I would pass him on the streets or see him at one of the restaurants since we didn't have much to choose from, he would slip right on out without so much as a hello. That kind of stung a little. Why, I'm not sure. I barely know the guy, but two can play at that game! It's just so confusing and now that I'm thinking it over, childish. Of both of us. I admit I'm guilty too. When my mind strays to the saying only because he started it I internally roll my eyes. Yeah, I'm definitely guilty of it. The night he came over he looked like he wanted to tell me something, but specifics of the case were obviously not to be discussed. They were confidential, and I annoyingly understood that so although I was dying to pry, I didn't. It proved a difficult task given my nature, but it was a feat. And I haven't had a victory in a while now, so I took it and ran with it. Well, running with it. Given the fact that's why I'm out right now. Sort of. I'm mainly out due to my limited interaction with the outside world. I liked my alone time as much as the next person, but I couldn't stay cooped up in my house forever. No matter how scared I was. The serial killer already stole some of my innocence, I wouldn't let him steal my favorite time of year. Or I would try not to.

Speaking of the devil, there was also no word on the puppeteer front. We were going on a week now with no new dead bodies, which you would think would be a good thing. Well it was , but also it wasn't. What was he planning? Something big? With an imaginary(but he wasn't so imaginary because he was real, but no one was actually behind me ready to kill me) killer stalking me, I sped up my walk and hugged my arms a little closer to my chest. It was a fake sense of security, hugging my arms to myself, and I realized that, but I was only human so I went with it. It was when I was pondering my mortality that I heard it.

The cranking of a chainsaw.

Before my heart had the chance to beat out of my chest, the laughs that followed the fear-producing noise reminded me where I was. A costume contest in the middle of the town square. Now, I know what you're thinking, why in the hell would they allow the show to go on when there was a serial killer in our midst? And who in the hell would willingly go? And honestly, as I see scary clowns and mask clad Jasons, I completely and wholeheartedly agree with you. I also don't know how in the hell I ended up here. It's not until I hear my name being called by Jessica- and apparently she been calling it for a while now- that I remember who in fact dragged me here (and when has her dragging me out when I was hesitant about it ever do us any good) . With an irrational, underlying, and quite unfair anger at my friend, I tear my eyes away from the clown who was now waving at me with a creepy smile.

"You know what? I think I'm going to head home," I'm waving my white flag at the universe and with pleading eyes for Jessica to understand (which I know she does because she hasn't been the same since that night either). I look over at the clown again before inhaling, "I tried, I really did." I can't hate them for their fun, as much as ill timed and placed it is; life goes on. But I don't think it has for me just yet, and trying to force it doesn't seem to be doing me, or anyone else for that matter, any favors.