Also asks for calm and silence. Don't touch me. Don't speak to me.
[2] "Clarissa's dead..." you mutter. The pain claws out from behind your eyes. "Can someone turn off the music, I--"
clivedontClive shoves you up against the wall, anger and a little bit of fear in his eyes. Everyone's staring, a few of your enemies are smirking. Bystander syndrome in action. "What did you do to her, you fucking psycho!?"
clivecalmdownYou remember Clive and his mom pinning posters to poles, Clarissa grinning under a big red 'MISSING'. Just another string of disappearances in a town that gets a lot of them - Clarissa wasn't special. And here you are, the weird kid who has seizures in the classroom and keeps talking about dead people. Of course he thinks it's you.
babyimheredonthurtherThink fast. David starts spewing a stream of expletives and clutching his wrist, gritting his teeth and runs out of the room.
Let's pretend they didn't believe that. It doesn't matter either way, I'll just avoid them. I was going to anyway.
He runs out into the backyard, ignoring the screaming, hoping it draws enough people away to create privacy. He repairs his hand or wraps it in his shirt as a faux splint.
[5] You make both baby and regular Jesus weep blood from the curses you're roaring from the bottom of your lungs. In the backyard you set your hand back into position. You flex it a few times - yep, it was just twisted out of shape.
"Hey," says Jane. "You need a
hand with that?"
If Jane wasn't so smoking hot, those puns would place her at the rock-bottom of the social hierarchy. She's sitting on a swing hanging from the old oak tree. You swear quietly and hide it in your shirt pocket. She giggles and stands up, walking over to you.
"Hey, don't worry about it," she grins. "It's kind of cool, actually. How'd it happen?"
Look at the bottle cluelessly. Try and determine if I am drunk.
Surely that's why everything seems so weird right now...
[3] You think you're drunk. But you realize this is actually cooking gin. Maybe it's not real booze, then? Your legs are shaking and your vision is swaying but with the placebo effect... Even if this is real, your first time drunk is kinda shitty.
Freakin' Todd is freaking out (Heheh, see, cos he's named Freakin' Todd, hah) about that guy who broke his wrist, but you're watching him in the backyard. Shit. Jane's there!
And... She's talking to him?
And... She's
smiling?...
Maybe you should break your own wrist? Does she like dudes with broken wrists?
...
Maybe you should break
both your wrists.
Approach Anthony, still kind of shaking. Continue being awkward.
I head upstairs where I think I heard the scream.
Follow Anthony up into the bathroom, maybe the medicine is up there.
[Anthony: 1] [Riley: 5] Anthony heads up the stairs with Riley trailing behind him, asking him about some 'medicine'. Up the hall Clive's got that weirdo Louise shoved against the wall, barking questions at her.
"Okay, guys, let's enter a zone of chillitude," says Anthony, holding his hands out plaintively. Clive doesn't even acknowledge Anthony and keeps up the interrogation.
Riley tip-toes past Anthony and pushes open the door to the bathroom. When she wakes up thirty seconds later, she's laid against the wall. That girl from history class, Casey or Ciara or something, holds a bottle of hormone pills up to Anthony, still trying to get through to Clive.
"Are these smelling salts?" she says. "I can't open it."
Anthony groans and punches the wall. "For fuck's sake, guys, can we all just calm down--"
The wall panel falls down, along with the month-old corpse duct-taped to the back of it. Riley grabs the pill bottle off of Casey (Or Ciara or whatever, it doesn't
matter) and stands up, trying not to look at the body.
"Uuuh," says that girl from science class, let's forget the name thing. She's looking at Anthony, who's looking at the corpse like its a cat that shat on the rug. "What's with all the corpses in your house?"
Author
Topic: Sleight of Hand (Paranormal Minimalist) (Read 4958 times)