Writer's Games: Carnival

Quarter Finals [Female Entries]

ARWEN BLACK

Have you ever felt actually normal? Like you weren’t a freak? Could you ever look in the mirror and not be disgusted at what you saw? Could you ever go home safely without feeling paranoid about what was waiting for you there? Could you ever be confident just being you, and never have to hide away the parts of yourself you don’t like?

Me neither.

My nails dug into the hard packed earth, my body hunched over Bobby’s bloody corpse. His eyes, which actually looked like eyes a few minutes prior, were now nothing more than a mess of flesh and bone. His forehead was bloody and horrific, with several bobby pins stuck in the skin. I felt my breakfast threaten to make a reappearance, and swallowed down the bile rising in my throat, a shudder running down my spine.

Holy fucking shit.

What have I done?

That question bounced around inside my head like a game of ping pong. I felt the voices inside my head whisper constantly, never once stopping the constant chant. I rested my elbows on the ground and hid my face in my arms, feeling another wave of hysteria begin. Killing my father was one thing – I had been locked inside his basement for two months and he had persistently threatened – and attempted – to kill me. But Bobby was different. He was just a kid and – as psychopathic as he was – he wasn’t like my father. He was just another person trapped in this hellhole. Just another person trying to escape. And I murdered him.

Someone came to a standstill at my side, staring down at me with crossed arms. I barely registered their presence and continued to cower over the body, tiny sobs racking my body.

“Jesus Christ, move out of the way!”

Sayuri’s voice rung throughout the sky as she shoved me to the side, knocking me to the floor. She leant over Bobby’s body and began to rip the bobby pins from his face, oblivious to the blood splattering across her clothes. I whimpered and looked away, unable to watch.

“The bobby pins are now confiscated.” Sayuri said to me as she stood up, flicking blood off her face. “Callisto should have gotten them before. Never trust a man to do a woman’s job.” She smiled at me, although it wasn’t a nice smile. It was one that chilled you to the core. Then she turned on her heel, the bobby pins still in her grasp, and grabbed onto Bobby’s wrist, dragging the mutilated corpse over to the booths.

I didn’t even realize I’d thrown up until I looked over and saw the puddle of vomit. Acid burned horrifically in my throat, feeling like fire dancing along my oesophagus. I moaned and clutched my forehead in my hands, feeling my head pulsate with every heartbeat. I’d murdered this kid. I’d murdered a little kid. And I didn’t even know his name.

Wait, no. I did. Bobby Griffin.

Suddenly, my head snapped upwards, all thoughts of my burning throat gone. Bobby Griffin. Morgan Griffin.

Oh god.

My head snapped up to look at Bobby’s corpse as Sayuri continued to drag it away. Everything fit. The age. The ethnicity. The Griffin.

Shit.

As if what I had done wasn’t bad enough, God decided to fuck me over and add another dash of horror into the mix. I hadn’t just murdered a little kid, oh no. I’d murdered my best friend’s brother.