The Pretty Poison

PART 27 - Chapter 17

PART 27 – Chapter 17

My hands can’t move fast enough pulling my clothing on. They jitter worse now than ever and my constant glancing at the door is tightening my neck. Since today was laundry day I only have old burgundy shorts left in the bottom of my drawer but they’ll do. Pairing that with a loose sequined shirt which looks more like a short dress, I grab the flashlight from the piles of trash that litter my room and check the window.

There’s only a small hint of Rachael’s silhouette walking absently into the forest. It’s still morning but the massive branches and their leaves cover the entire ground with a dark so uninviting. Still, Rachael ventures on. The way her arms move come across stiff and almost forced but her hair contrasts the robotic saunter, swinging wildly behind her. It’s as if her entire body is being pulled yet she wishes nothing of it. The tang of pity crosses my tongue before I spit it out. She’s the reason for this and I can’t feel sorry for her. She did this to me and to herself.

The door clicks open slowly under my palm and the squeak of the hinge makes me wince. I want to leave as quietly and as discreetly as possible. Kurt has already gone far enough away for me to leave unnoticed but halfway out, the corner of my eye catches Lightning Feather and Mr. Huntsdale coming out of the Ringmaster’s office. The two of them together make me sick and Feather alone is enough to set off every mental warning I have. There is nothing trustworthy about her and I’m sure she knows that. I need to be careful if I’m going to follow Rachael. Whatever is happening, they’re somehow involved.

My common sense reminds me in time to slide on my knee high boots before creeping the rest of the way out of my trailer. There is something so incredibly insulting about having to sneak around my own circus. But what I am to do needs to be done. I turn my eyes back to the ominous woods with anger boiling in my veins from the Archer and the Ringmaster.

Their presence distracted me long enough to lose sight of Rachael.

Shit. I keep repeating that word and it just feels right on my tongue. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! It’s hard enough as it is to keep my nerve and now I have to go in the woods blind. My feet hurry to the side of the clown’s trailer across from mine and wait there, my gazing locked to the front of the circus. The heavy stench of body odor spoils the air and pushes its way into my nose. I gag, remembering why I don’t go near the clown trio. They hardly do their wash and the opened window above my head makes sure everyone knows that.

Another string of swear words, being of cruder content, race through my head when Mr. Huntsdale returns to his paperwork and leaves Feather to wander back to her trailer. Not only do I have to now sneak out of the circus’s campgrounds unseen, I have to slip past Feather. And she’s parked right alongside the forest.

Now or never. My eyes watch her take the shorter way for her across the camp; passing the bathrooms and Mimi’s dying breakfast raid. If I get there fast enough, I might reach the woods before she sees the slightest bit of me. Giving all of my trust to the strength in my legs, I leave my crouched position and bolt for the trees.

My arms pump wildly at my side as I race against the clichéd time. Another group of uncaring people pass by making me dart for cover. Cast mates going about their daily business make me bang my head against the wall with envy. I don’t know why I hide from them exactly but the instincts in my muscles tell me they shouldn’t be trusted either. Another skip behind another trailer. Pause. The slow passing makes me twitch my fingers.

“Come on. Hurry up,” I whisper softly to myself but wishing they’d listen. I already loathe my inability to walk freely around and their leisurely saunter threatens my safety. The ticking of an internal clock irritates my lungs to the point of shivering my breath. Jagged gasps follow slow exhales. They’re finally far enough away and my hiding place is ditched.