Blurry Face [Completed]

Chapter 12 - Kacey

- I'm struck. By. Your e-lec-tric loooo-ve, lo-o-o-ove. Baby, your electric l-ove. - Waking up on a Friday morning always made me feel energetic, yet I had a bad feeling the second I opened my eyes to my alarm. I glance around as I realize it's empty, no Kacey in sight. Kacey. The bathroom last night is where I saw here last. I rush to the bsthroom, trying the handle. It was locked as I remember it was last night. Pushing around the clothes in my bottom drawer, I pull out a rake and tension lock picks. Using the classic jiggle method by sticking the tension one with some pressure and wiggling the rake at the top, the lock gives and I swing the door open. On the floor leaning against the toilet with the seat up was a sleeping Kacey. She wore nothing, being completely naked and exposing her almond silky smooth skin. On her skin bloomed blotches of blue, green, and purple, cluttering around her abdominal area. Some lay on her legs and arms, a brutal purple splotch lay on her neck. Passing by everything, my vision blurred, refocusing so all I saw was her wounds. Kneeling down quietly beside her naked body I turned her face slowly towards me. Her eyelids were surrounding by a soft greenish tone of brusing, circles dark around her eyes. They were puffy, dried tears and purple tinted makeup lay on her cheeks, leading down to her chewed lips with messed up purple lipstick. She had been crying until she passed out. Drool slightly dripped out of her mouth, her hair sticking to her face. I gently placed her back, pulling a soft rag and soaking it in warm water. I wring it and gently wipe off the dried tears and eye makeup. I run the cloth over her purple lips, revealing a small cut where she probably bit too hard. I wipe her face until she is clean, heading back to my room. Out of my drawer I feel for the familar feeling of soft cotton and satin, pulling out a cotton grey sweater with fluff inside, and a set of satin pastel pinkish purple sports clothing. I grabbed some fresh red silk undergarments for her and slip them onto Kacey gently. I dress her without waking her and then go dress myself, wearing a set of black tights and a black tanktop with a matching black sports sweater, all over my usual gear. I stuff the extra grey sweater into my backpack and grab my home makeup shit. I begin working on Kacey's face, neck, amd anywhere that might be seen by the public. I cover every bruise and blemish possible with my tattoo concealer. To think I'd ever use this on such a girl. Why . . . Did she know it was me? Did she want the pain? For sure . . . These bruises . . . are fresh. The makeup and the bruises hint that she is Violet. Why Kacey? Why would she have to work in this wretched job?  I rummage through the laundry and sure enough hidden inside is the purple suit Violet wore last night, all dirtied up. I put it back, finishing up Kacey's face to make her seem as normal as possible. Her lip was still raw and was trying to grow a scar over her cut, open wounds can't have makeup applied to them, ruining the look of a healthy, fine Kacey. It could be worse though. I gently comb her hair with my brush to undue tangles through her hair, her blond highlights reflecting the bathroom light into my eyes. I grab a scrunchie out of my bathroom drawer and tie up her hair softly. I pull slightly roughly to tighten her hair and leave her be, putting her bathroom necessities in a pile next to the sink to increase her time efficiency. I apply deoderant and brush my teeth, combing my hair roughly and splash it with water to take down baby hairs. Glancing in the mirror, I have similar eyebags to Kacey, but not as intense. Without the bruising. I hurridly brush on makeup in front of the small mirror, applying the dark blue lipstick and eyeshadow to my face messily. I put on my shoes and go to the kitchen where I simply grab a granola bar for Kacey and check the time. Glowing at me and threatening me to be late are the digits 7:45. It took that long to get Kacey ready? Heading to the bathroom I lightly shake the sleeping girl on my bathroom floor.

"Hey Kace, might wanna wake up or we will both be late." I quietly say as she flutters her eyes open.

Her eyes widen when she sees me, brown staring into brown. She backs up and stands up, glancing at herself. She looked pretty even without her glasses.

"You . . . You saw me like that?" She asks, mixed emotions surfacing on her face, along with confusion.

I walk back to my room calmly and retrieve her glasses. I look her in the eye and carefully slide her glasses on.

"There, we can go now. Grab your backpack and lets go." I say, going back to my room again and grabbing my shit without saying another word.

Thoughts race through my head on how I should behave.

Should I tell her I know? How do I act after I cared for her, even dressed her? Should I not question anything? Is she really okay?

I head to the garage, the familiar light thumping of Kacey's footsteps behind me, hitting the wooden floor. Heading to the first floor by elevator, I rush to the car with the silent Kacey by my side. I turn on the engine and open the garage door, driving out. - Click - The belt buckles break the eerie silence as I drive down the road to school. I look at the dashboard, green numbers telling me I have 10 minutes to get my ass in the fucking seat for first period. I step on the gas peddle, avoiding traffic and turning on my mirror's light system to find any nearby cops and such as I swerve through the roads like a maniac. We make it with three minutes to spare, not a word said to each other for the first few periods. I go straight to the art room, feeling full though I haven't eaten all day, perhaps just a loss of apetite. I grab my art peice from the drying rack and begin adding highlights and final touches with some acrylics from the counter and a fine tip #5 brush. The simple marigold and rose combination still life lay before me, seemingly blured as if the person viewing it was crying.

In this case, it was Kacey. It was all my fault technically. I had laced the souo not knowing she was Violet. Even then, why is she acting so silent? It's not like her to not even talk. Im the more antisocial one between the two of us. Should we tlak about it? Or is it too soon?

Kacey strolls into the art room as Im focused on trying to sign my painting. I was always bad at signing.

She sits beside me quietly. I feel her gaze upon me as I concentrate on every curve. After signing it off, I place it down, stand up and wash the brush and pallet. I glance from the corner of my eye to where Kacey sits, putting her finger up to the bridge of her nose as she closes her eyes in thought. I sigh as i let the cool water flow over my wrist. It's a neat trick to cool your body temperature quick. I grab my painting from next to Kacey and put it in the drying rack. I pull the chair from under the desk and sit, concentrating on everything but my thoughts. A soft scent of coconut wafted from Kacey. Her eyes held a chocolatey color, enough to entrance and sweets lover. Her gold highlights defining the bounce in her hair. The room was relatively warm despite having air conditioning. What if you never see her the same. What if you stop being friends with your only friend. What if. You never see her again.

"Rose, we need to talk-"
"Kacey, we need to talk-"

We look up to each other, trouble in both our eyes.