All Alone | Stanley Uris

Chapter 9 : Clumsy/Winner Winner Chicken Dinner

✎ 𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓭

I had trouble sleeping through the rest of the night last night, every time I closed my eyes I thought about that creepy clown and he was all I saw. Everything from its odd limp to its glowing yellow teeth was sharp in detail still. It's almost as if he was real and not simply something my imagination made up. 

I look out my bedroom window and squint, but see no balls of colour, indicating no cars were in the driveway. My parents both left for work thankfully. I'll be able to get to the quarry with the boys without as much difficulty. Oh, great, how am I supposed to bike there when I can hardly see three feet in front of my face without my glasses on. I guess they'll just have to be worn, cracked and all. 

With a deep sigh, I begin to change into my bathing suit, a white two-piece called a bikini. I put some clothes over it. The colours seem to match so I should be fine. Yesterday, I called Stan and decided that he is going to meet me at my house before we go and meet up with the boys. This is perfect because he'll be able to help guide me when I can't see. 

I make sure to give Chucho an extra pat and give him some food and fresh water. I kiss him before I walk out into the driveway. I thankfully found my glasses on the floor earlier in the living room. Now, I sit and fumble with my them. There seems to only be a crack in one lens, I could probably wear them. I see Stan walking down the street to my house, with his bike next to him.

"Hey!" He calls out to me.

"Hey," I yell back. I get up and start walking towards him.

"Where are your glasses?" He asks, sounding confused and concerned. I pull them out of my back pocket and show him.

"They broke," I tell him.

"How?" He asks.

"I was clumsy and fell," I quickly say to cover up.

"Oh, okay," He frowns. I slide them on, worried about what I look like without them on. We walk to the quarry together. We make small talk.

"So, do you have any siblings?" He asks me.

"No, but I have a dog," I tell him. I smile, thinking about Chucho.

"Tell me about this dog you keep talking about," He asks.

"He is a Jack Russell terrier and his name is Chucho. He is the love of my life, just about the only thing I look forward to at home..." I mumble the last part to myself.

"Deirdre?" He asks.

"Yes?" I return, quickly throwing on a smile.

"If there was something going on would you tell me?" He asks, stopping in the road. I stop too and chew on the inside of my cheek.

"Depends," I bite my bottom lip.

"On what?" He asks.

"On what there is to tell," I answer simply.

"Deirdre, I'll tell you about me if you tell me about you," He fiddles with his thumbs.

"Okay... you go first," I cross my arms and look down, trying to protect myself. I'm vulnerable in this situation and nothing can protect me, this I know all too well. 

"Oh, right now? Okay um..." He gets flustered.

"I have anxiety. It's um pretty bad... Whenever I get nervous- which is practically always- my mind races and makes me think of everything that can and will go wrong," I blurt out, unable to stop myself from confiding in this boy I just met. I keep my eyes on the floor, so I don't have to see his reaction to my words.