Smile: Part I

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Photo by meigsinha at morguefile.com

 

“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. Her giggling mother chases after her and my grasp flexes around the handle. When they’re safely passed me, I opt for the bike I rarely use over the Bentley I love. In the light of the full moon, I hang the knife on the handlebar and head around to the back of my house to the bike path.

The rocks in the asphalt feel like they’re coming through the soles of my shoes and I close my eyes, soaking in the sensation. I swing my leg over the bike coming down on my phone as it vibrates. Fishing it out of my pocket, I flip it open and read the message.

ElaRue Rd. and Manchester Pl.

“Showtime.” Kicking off against the pavement, I head toward the moon, my shining friend swinging as we go.

 

To be continued…

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