The Bleeding Chameleon

It Never Snows in Berting, South Carolina

He ordered an egg sandwich and twenty-four ounce iced-coffee; the only incentive for waking so early. Despite the routine, his fifteen minute drive felt like thirty. Even as he zoned out the muscle memory lead him to his destination, and he thought, huh, didn't I pass that already? But alas, he made it to the lot, and it was there, chomping on his sandwich, that he remembered the girl in red.

He drove around the perimeter looking for any clues she had in fact been there. Something, anything. He needed to know that she hadn't been a figment of his paranoid imagination, that he wasn't going crazy. Finding nothing as he drove around, he hopped out of his car, figuring he might as well since he had to get out at some point. He checked for fingerprints around the fencing.

    Oddly enough, he expected to find a goo or some kind of supernatural hint that she had been there. He thought, strange, I never thought this could be something supernatural; it just came to me. So he brushed it aside. Red body paint and ribbon was cheap at the Berting art shop.

    He took a deep breath. The girl had to have been there; he heard the fence rattling in her wake. But it had rattled just the same before he had seen her; it was a windy night. Her red ribbon fluttered gently in the wind like a stream of water, he remembered. She was there, whether the facts could support it. She was there. He could feel it in the way he shook where she stood, holding the gates just as she had. Her hair swam in the wind where his couldn't.

    And finally, his curiosity brought him discomfort. This girl in red, had she meant harm by breaking the dam? She had, there isn't a harmless way to break a dam. But had she broken it? He couldn't recall her touching the dam wall, only shattering it viciously. But no, that wasn't possible, not by only using your mind. And naively he thought she might have been innocent.

    Tired of thinking, he clocked in and waited for Matt to show. The night before hadn't all been terrible. Matt promised to edit his essay. Secretly he hoped that the older boy would just rewrite the entire thing, but he knew that wasn't Matt's thing. Matt was a person who would help you with homework but not give you the answers, wanting you to understand the problem rather than continuing to feel confused.

    They hadn't been in contact since Matt made his promise. Ian had fallen asleep the second he got home. Typically, on late work nights he'd stop and get something to eat and sneak up the stairs so his parents wouldn't hear. After that he'd slurp down an energy drink and finish reading a book or watching a movie or sometimes staying up for no reason at all. Maybe just to think. But the prior night hadn't been that way at all, the girl drained him of all energy.

    And there he was thinking about her again.

    "Shut up," he said aloud.

    "What did I do?" Matt asked.

    Ian jumped, having apparently been so deep in thought he hadn't noticed him walk in through the back door. He noted his messy hair and substantial lack of computer paper. Hmm, must not have been in the mood to edit yesterday. Ian chose not to mention it for the time being, but if it went unspoken for too long, he'd bring it up. He didn't want to push any buttons since Matt was doing him a favor, but he at least needed to know if he had changed his mind.

    "Hi!" Ian cheered, happy for his presence despite the essay situation.

    Without greeting, Matt pointed to Ian's iced coffee. The ice liquidized, a ring of melted condensation forming circles in the table. "Can I have some of that?" he asked tiredly.

    "You can have the rest," the boy offered. "You sleepy?"

    Matts brows hunched in stress. "Yeah, but I slept pretty well last night. It's just one of those things, ya know?"