Dreamcatcher (ONC 2020)

5

It's her, I think, suddenly feeling irrationally scared. Why is she here? What is she planning to do to us? I look off to the side in a feeble attempt to conceal my expression; my fear is probably blossoming on my face and I can't have her see me like this. It doesn't matter if there's a hurricane of fear slowly clawing its way up inside of me. I won't let her tear me apart again.

I grab the chair behind the counter, dragging it toward me, then take a seat. The woman has the same unsightly scowl as ever, but at least she looks more presentable than yesterday. Her hair isn't unkempt and greasy anymore—and instead, it flows down to her chin in straight, glossy locks. She's wearing cuffed pants and a shirt, with an unbuttoned, dark gray trench coat.

"Didn't think I'd see you so soon," I say, eyebrows raised in faux surprise. "What brings you around here?" I manage to make my voice sound smooth and nonchalant, despite the constant shaking of my leg underneath the counter. I grip on tightly to the sides of my chair to prevent my hands from trembling.

The woman opens her mouth—an undeniably snide reply on the tip of her tongue—but before she can say anything, another voice interrupts her.

"Hyacinth, dear! Look at these lovely seashell necklaces!"

Another woman appears from behind a shelf; her arms are laden with the aforementioned necklaces. Another? I frantically glance around the shop. Just how many of them are in here right now? The rest of the shop seems to be empty, but with the appearance of this newcomer, I'm not so sure. The new woman wears a smile that makes my insides feel like pudding and her long waves of hair are the color of the daytime sky.

Could this... could she be who the woman from yesterday is bound to?

The blue-haired woman stops abruptly, catching me staring. "Oh. They're back. 'Scuse me," she calls out, waving the necklaces in the air. "How much do these seashell necklaces cost?"

"One dollar each," I say, my tongue feeling like sandpaper.

"Lovely!" The blue-haired woman beams. The woman from yesterday—or Hyacinth, I presume—is still staring at the seashell necklaces with rapt intensity. It's almost as if she can't look away.

The blue-haired woman sidles over to me, inching past various shelves and trinkets. She carefully puts five of the necklaces down, then slams a five-dollar bill onto the counter with a surprising amount of force, considering her previous daintiness. The entire counter shakes, but I still manage to look back at her unflinchingly.

"I'll take five," she says. Her voice is awfully condensed, like some sort of sugary monstrosity that shouldn't exist. Chocolate dipped peanut butter cup stuffed Oreos, perhaps. The syrup of it practically drips all over me.

I slide the five-dollar bill toward me and wave my hand over the drawer on my right. It opens with a click, revealing a bunch of money in a cashier-esque setup. I drop the bill among the other fives then close the drawer.

Hyacinth is still staring at the necklaces, which the other woman has now put on her neck. They jingle against each other as she skips back to her companion, beaming. "Don't you like them?" she asks Hyacinth.

Hyacinth doesn't respond. Her eyes are fixed on the five necklaces dangling from the blue-haired woman's neck.

"Oh, right, sorry," the blue-haired woman said, not looking sorry in the slightest. "You can stop looking at the necklaces, Hyacinth." As soon as the words are said, Hyacinth immediately loosens up and looks away. A drop of sweat is sliding down the side of her head, and it might just be me, but she looks terrified. And if there's someone who can make Hyacinth scared—the same Hyacinth who single-handedly could've taken down me and Bailee—then that isn't very reassuring at all.