“Nose as round as a tomato,” I crouch to see my face in the bathroom mirror, straightening my green bowtie in the flickering fluorescent light. “Skin as white as death.” The butcher knife hanging from a rope on the doorknob gleams and sways in the breeze from the window. “And a smile to hide it all.” Adjusting the bald cap on my head, I put my blue and red wig into place and smooth the white makeup over the evening shadow on my jawline.
Sauntering into my bedroom, I slide the ugly yellow onesie splashed in purple dots up past my boxers. I reach for the oversized shoes that are stained in red and my vision blurs, making me hesitate. But ultimately I blow my nose on my sleeve and shove on the shoes. “Tonight will be a good night.”
I find it strange as I go back for my shining stainless steel friend. I feel like I might lift off the ground, my head buzzing, the weight of the smooth wooden handle seeming to be all that tethers me.
Outside, the wind whips, screaming, through the lifeless trees. Stripping them of the remnants of the past they try so desperately to hold onto. I duck back into the shadows of my porch, a little girl running past my house screeching with glee, a plastic pumpkin brimming with candy clutched in her tiny hands. Continue reading