I stopped just outside the kitchen doors and looked back across the pizzeria, noticing Sybil being comforted by Montey. She was still wearing his jacket and had her arm looped around his while she stared up at him like a lost puppy. He gently brushed away strands of her soda-soaked hair and cupped her face in his hands. I felt a pang of jealousy shoot through my chest at the sight of them.
Despite hooking up all last summer, he never once looked at me that way…especially not in public.
“Fuck this.” I wasted no time rushing through the kitchen to the back alley door.
I ripped the neck ruff from my costume off and tossed it down with my clown hat before plopping down on the curb. My green hair was all messed up and wet, smelling of soda. A loud groan fell from my lips and my head sank. I felt embarrassed, ashamed, and rejected. All my old friends just stood there, thinking I was some kind of monster. A freak.
That look Montey gave me…I’ll never forget it.
I raised my knees and clutched them close to my chest. Tears burned my eyes and streaked the clown makeup that covered my face.
“Crissa?” Her voice startled me. “Are you okay?”
I sat up and lightly brushed the tears away, hoping she didn’t hear me crying and hoping my makeup wasn’t totally obliterated. “The fuck you want?” I snapped.
Lavender sat down on the curb next to me. “I’m sorry about Sybil. She really shouldn’t have said that about you.”
“And yet you let her.” My body shrunk into itself. “You all just let her do and say whatever she wants. Why?” My eyes met hers. “Why, Lavender? I was your childhood friend. Not her!”
Her blue eyes fell and the dark curls around her freckled face bounced as she spoke. “That’s not fair.” She picked at her fingers.
“Not fair?” I scoffed. “What’s not fair is how you guys dumped me for her?—”
“Can you just let it go, Crissa? Fuck.” Lavender sighed and stood. “Look, I came here to apologize for what she said and let you know that Sybil feels bad. Montey insisted on taking her home, but she wanted me to let you know she didn’t mean it.” I rolled my eyes at the bullshit answer. “She didn’t, Crissa. And as a peace offering, she wanted me to invite you to our party tonight.”
I looked up at her both shocked and confused. “I’m not sure which is more ridiculous…Sybil inviting me to a party or Sybil apologizing.”
Lavender huffed and crossed her arms. “Sheissorry.”
Considering how she just threatened to ruin my life, I highly doubt it.
I stumbled to my feet and grabbed the pieces of my uniform. “Thanks for the offer, but pass.”
Lavender stopped me from opening the back door. “Crissa, please. Just come to the party. It’ll be like old times.”
I stepped closer and looked straight into her eyes. “No, it won’t. You know why?” I leaned in and grabbed the handle of the door. “Because we’re not friends.”
Lavender eyed me as I yanked the door open and forced her aside. “Tawny!” I walked past my ex-friend and stepped into the pizzeria. “I’m going home.”
Light rain tappedagainst the window of my bedroom as I plopped down on my bed and fell onto my back. My wet, green hair sprawled all around me, no longer smelling of soda, but of my shampoo and conditioner. It felt great to take a nice, long shower and just take a moment to breathe and exist, giving me time to really think about Lavender’s words. “Sybil apologizes…Sybil is so sorry,” I mocked. “And she actually thinks I’d ever believe she wanted to invite me to a party? Ha! What a joke.” I rolled over and snatched the old book from my nightstand, flipping it open to my last journal entry. My fingertips glided across the old page, feeling it within my grasp while inhaling the old dusty pages. It had all become part of my daily ritual, and every time I partook, it sent a comforting wave down my spine.
It’s odd…this book gives me the same feelings I get when I talk to the little rats at work. I guess you could call it my friend too.
I flipped to a new page, picked up a pen, and began to write about my day. “Today was…well, another shitty day.” With a heavy sigh, I looked down at my sentence and blinked. Only when I looked again, my words had morphed. It wasn’t what I had written, but something different.
I read the new sentence aloud. “Sybil got what she deserved.” I stopped and stared at the single sentence, confused as to how and why it was different. It was my handwriting, but the words…they weren’t mine.
“That’s fucking weird,” I whispered, scratching the sentence out with the ink. I tried to rewrite my previous sentence, but when I lifted the pen, I looked at my words to see the same exact sentence written once again. “What the hell?” I angrily scratched it out and tried to write for a third time. “Today…was…a—” I blinked and the words changed. “What the fuck?!” The tip of my pen scratched through the words, spilling ink along the page…only the ink kept moving, like a liquid snake.
What the hell is happening?
The ink bled into the porous surface, forming odd shapes that began to fill the page…then the next…one after another as I stared in absolute horror at what I saw.
Written on both pages was the same sentence repeated…over…and over…and over again…and again…and again.
Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved. Sybil got what she deserved.
“What—” I flipped the page to see my previous entry gone, replaced with the same thing. “No.”I flipped to another page. Then another. And another. Every single page read the exact same thing.
