Chapter XXXIV: Cracks in The Glass
The color of the walls hurts my eyes.
"...lin..."
They're all pure white and the lights up above reflect off of them, so they practically radiate, almost blinding you with the intensity. It's almost like staring right at the Sun.
"Gae..."
Were those black spots always there? I can't tell. It doesn't look like flies-they're not moving. Maybe I've been staring at them for too long. Maybe I'm seeing things.
"Gaelin..."
"Gaelin."
My concentration is broken. My eyes feel like I've been staring at that wall for ages.
I slowly look away from it, turning my head to the left.
Audrey stands in front of me, her arm gripping the fabric of her sleeve tightly. Her bottom lip is jutting out slightly, hazel eyes looking at me with...what? Pity? Worry? Sadness? I don't respond, just keep looking at her.
She shuffles on her feet, "I...Carter called your p-parents. They said they should be here in a few...in a few minutes."
I don't answer, just give a curt nod. I'm too tired to say any words. I turn back to the wall. There's something about the blank space that's oddly comforting. I can feel her gaze keep on me. Why, I don't know. Maybe she wants me to say something. Do something to try and calm whatever's going through her mind right now, if not in the slightest bit. But I can't do anything. I can barely help myself, never mind other people.
Finally, I hear Audrey give a little sigh, before I feel her hand on my shoulder. "I'm...I'm going to get something from the soda machine. Do you...want anything?"
I shake my head, continuing to look at the wall. The feeling of her eyes upon me strays a little bit more, before I hear her platforms walk away. My eyes start to ache from the wall, but right now it's the only thing that's keeping me from completely losing it after the whole shit-show that's gone down in the last hour.
They said Sadie was dead on arrival by the time they got to the hospital. That it was honestly a miracle she was still alive when the ambulance came. That if the blood loss or the shock didn't kill her, the collision certainly did. That there was nothing else we could do. That, if it means anything (which it doesn't) we should take some comfort in knowing that at least she didn't die alone, and had acquaintances with her in her final moments.
Yeah, right. What bullshit.
Sadie certainly didn't look like she was comforted, the memory of those wide, terrified gray eyes sending a chill through me.
Fucking good, something in my head suddenly sneers, 'Bout time that little cunt got out of the way.
I frown, Shut up.
What? Oh, come on. Don't tell me you're actually upset that she died?!
I am! I mentally growl, No matter what Sadie did, no matter how much we hated each other, she didn't deserve that! No one deserves to go through something like that, ever!
And yet just a few days ago, you were all the more willing to bash her skull in, the voice says smugly.
My fingers dig into the cushion.
T-t-that...t-that wasn't...I was mad at the time, I-I didn't actually mean it!
Sure you didn't, it says, unconvinced, Why do you keep lying to yourself? Admit it, you're glad she's dead.
Shut the fuck up.
Deny it all you want, but you and I both know the truth- when you saw her like that, it made your skin crawl with satisfaction. Finally, after all these years, after all these months of hell, finally her and the rest of those bastards are getting what they deserve! It exclaims, Give them a taste of their own medicine.
"Shut up," I hiss.
Oh, god, and the look in her eyes? Classic! You loved it, reveled in it, yearned more! If only we had been there to see as that pretty little face got sliced up one cut at a time. To see the first match lit, to see her wriggling around, begging-
"Shut up."
-Sputtering out half-assed apologies that she doesn't really mean in a pitiful attempt to make it all stop. But you wouldn't stop, would you? No, you would want her to suffer. Want her to feel your pain, your agony. You'd want to let her know just how you felt about her in every little inch of skin you'd rip off, show her exactly what you'd want to do to her, show her just how evil the little devil inside you really is-
"Shut. UP," I whisper harshly, putting my hands over my ears like it will somehow dispel the sound from within. But the voice is merciless.
You can try and ignore it all you want, but you and I both know what really lies under that little sheepskin. What really lies in your heart; your darkest desires, your cruelest fantasies. You can fool everyone else around you, but you can't fool me. And why should you? There's nothing wrong with how you feel. What goes around comes around, after all. And there's only so much cowering a whipped dog can do before it bites back.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" I mutter between grit teeth, digging my nails into my scalp.
"Gaelin?"
The sound of Mom's voice snaps me out of my mental argument. My eyes snap open and I look to the left. She's still wearing the dark blue cocktail dress and kitten heels that she had dressed up in for her and Paul's dinner date, her face still decorated with makeup. What is she doing here?
Dumbass, Audrey said Carter called them, the voice points out.
But that was...I look at the overhead clock. It's almost one in the morning.
Has it really been an hour? I swear only, like ten minutes had passed since we got to the hospital. Have I really been zoned out this whole time? (I get a dim memory of my old therapist telling me the word for this. Disassociation, I think it was).
"...I..." I try to start, but feel dumbfounded.
Mom runs over- her ankles look like they could break any second in those heels- before I can even get a second syllable out, throwing her arms around me. She quickly pulls back, putting her cold hands on my cheeks. "Are you hurt?" she asks, her brow crinkled in worry.
I shake my head slowly, and she nods back, her shoulders drooping like fifty tons has just been lifted from them. She fiddles with my jacket, something in her eyes, before they slowly slide back to mine, as she hesitantly asks, "And...Sadie?"
"She didn't make it," I say without missing a beat, instantly hating how insensitive it sounds.
Mom's eyes widen, a hand brought to her mouth in shock. She shakes her head, a sad expression melding her face. "Oh, that poor girl. I can't imagine what it's going to be like for her mother."
I nod. I'm a bit dismayed when I realize I don't feel very sorry for Mrs. Lancaster as I think I should be.
That's because it's not your problem, the voice comments, No skin off your nose.
Would you put a cork in it already? I think back.
Mom ushers for me to get up. I follow her out into another hallway, hearing Paul and Carter's voices engaged in conversation around the corner.
"-like I just said, he had called me over since he realized he had left his things at the office and asked me to come by to drop them off," I hear Carter explain. His voice has a noticeable edge of annoyance to it.
Paul's voice responds, equally upset, "And what, he just suddenly 'poofed' into your car that was coming from the opposite direction? He's grounded, you know. And his little sister is at home, all by herself. Please tell me how you explain that? In fact, why don't we bring him right here to see if your little story matches up?"
"Dude, fuck off of him, the kid just watched someone get ran over," Carter snaps, "Hell, he was nearly ready to have a panic attack when we got here. But I assume that isn't as important as proving your hot shot lawyer status, now is it?"
I turn the corner to see the two of them exchanging a glare with each other. Paul's brow is deeply furrowed, frowning so deeply it's bound to leave lines as he stands with his arms crossed; his stance for when he's really heated and ready to drag it out. Carter doesn't look like he's intimidated though, his hands shoved into his pockets as he just glares back, his head tilted up defiantly.
"Paul, we're ready to go," Mom says, seemingly oblivious to the slight tension.
They both break eye contact to look at us. Paul frowns deeper when his eyes land on me, but it seems Carter has managed to have the last word, as he just shoots him one last stare over his shoulder before he nods and gathers up his keys.
"Gaelin?" I hear someone say behind me, "Gael', where the hell did you-...go..."
We all turn. Audrey holds a bottle of soda in her hand, looking a little bit like a deer in the headlights when she realizes who's joined our company.
"A-Audrey, I-I'm about to leave," I stutter. Shit, if Carter wasn't a giveaway already...
"You know this girl?" Mom asks, and I freeze.
"This...Audrey...from school...she, um..."
"-I was on my way over- Gaelin and I are working on a project together and I realized there was some stuff I needed from him," she quickly picks up, seemingly sensing my need for an alibi, "I know that he was grounded, but I was too impatient and thought if I just went ahead, we could be done already. It was my insistence that I come over."
Mom narrows her eyes, probably not all too convinced; that, or she's just generally suspicious of why this strange black clad girl was going to come over to her house while her teenage son resided there, almost home alone. But she doesn't voice her doubts, only giving a curt nod and explaining that we need to get home. She grabs my arm, only giving me time to give both Carter and Audrey quick goodbyes over my shoulder and hopefully a grateful look to both of them. They wave back, nodding at me.
Neither Mom or Paul say anything me to as we get into the car- probably thinking that I need to be left alone for a little while after everything that has gone down (or with Paul, probably thinking over the information he's just learn and trying to piece together his argument to Mom of how this further proves I'm even more of a problem child than was already established). I pull my phone out, typing away at the keypad.
Thanx 4 covering 4 me, I send to Audrey.
Audrey: Aint no snitch. Plus I figured the last thing u needed was them on your ass
Yeah. Thanks :)
I look up Carter's number too. I figure I owe him this much after making him put up with my drunken laments and dragging him into this whole thing.
Thanks for picking me up from that place. And I heard you talking to Paul- thanks for trying to cover for me too.
Carter: Dude, your stepdad is a real hardass. How the hell you put up with THAT everyday?
Tbh I don't, probs gonna blow a gasket sometime soon.
Carter: Lol
Anyway, sorry about tonight. Didnt mean to ruin your night.
Carter:...what I said still stands, you know.
I mean it, anytime, anywhere. Even if its just for a few minutes. You ever need someone to talk to, I'll be here right here. Ok?
I stare at the screen. I don't get it, I just don't get it. Why? Why would someone like Carter go all out of his way...for me?
Aw, is someone feeling a little...touched? The voice says amusedly.
Didn't I tell you to shut up?
Paul pulls up to the driveway, and the three of us walk in silence up the porch. There is nothing to greet us, except for the dark and the silence of the living room.
"Why the hell does it smell like firewood in here?" Paul wrinkles his nose, "Gael', you be trying to rewire the stove or something?"
Why do you immediately assume I did it? I think a little bitterly, but just reply with a shake of my head. It does smell like something burning, the dizzying scent of gasoline strong in the air.
"Whatever it is, we'll figure it out in the morning," Mom says as she tosses her purse onto the table, pulling out a chair and plopping into it. She pulls off her heels, giving us a tired look. "Now, I want to make sure nothing happened to Josie while we were gone and just go to bed."
Paul gives her a look, and something tells me he's not quite welcoming to the idea. Probably wants to keep going with his suspicions and interrogate me on just how I ended up in Carter's car three blocks from the house. But he doesn't say a word, loosening his tie and pulling his coat off. He doesn't say anything as he joins Mom and they move towards the stairs. It isn't until they're both giving me their goodnight bids that he actually is bold.
"Remember, you're still grounded."
I have to resist rolling my eyes. Instead I just walk past him, going up the stairs.
It isn't until I get to the top of the stairs that I finally realize how exhausted I am. My eyelids are already drooping as I make my way down the hall, and for a second I think I'm about to fall flat on my face asleep. I run a hand through my hair as I fling open the door, slamming it shut behind me and making a beeline for the bed. Plopping down on the bed, I yank my shoes off and toss my jacket into some corner, before curling up and yanking the duvet over my head. This night was just one massive fuck-up after another, and I'm ready to just sleep and get some goddamn peace.
Except the moment I close my eyes, all I see is Sadie's burnt, bloody, mutilated face staring back at me.
My fists clench in the pillow, and I try to will the image away, only for it to firmly plant itself in front of my eyelids.
It's because you want to relish in it, the voice laughs, The look of what goes around finally coming around. Finally, she's shown she ain't all that. And not so pretty, either. Not so proud.
I grit my teeth.
"Why can't you just go away?" I snarl.
Hate me all you want, buddy, but you can't keep me locked away forever. I am you, after all. And I can see every little thought you have, even the ones you push to the back, thinking no one will ever know what they are-
I mutter, "Shut the hell up," as I sit up, putting my head in my hands.
It's not going to do any good to deny yourself. Admit it, you've been wanting every last one of them dead for a long, LONG time. Long before I showed up. And looking back, who could blame you? Anyone in your shoes for five minutes could understand- the name calling, shoving you into lockers, stealing your homework, pouring soda down your back and squirting ketchup in your hair- it's too much. Just enough to make anyone want to go postal.
There's a weird chatter coming from somewhere in the room. I can't decipher what they're saying, just a bunch of unintelligible white noise that at the moment sounds like nails on a chalkboard to my ears.
"I'm not to listening to this," I growl.
You LOVED it. You've been dreaming of these days for a very long time. All those fantasies of shoving Makoa from the railing so she broke her neck, the debating of bringing a knife with you so you could stick in Loftis' throat the next time he ran up on you, taking 'sweet' little Sadie and splashing that beaker of phosphoric acid in her face. You said you'd rue the day that the tables turned, so why are you denying yourself?
"Stop."
The noise grows, and the voice just keeps on pushing.
Why do you keep feeling bad for them? They don't give a single damn about you! You tried to be passive, you tried to be understanding and look where it's gotten you. Nowhere but deeper in misery. It's why your had is in that cast, it's why your precious girl is in that garbage can, it's why your father is now a rotting corpse in Baxville Cemetary-
"SHUT UP!" I yell, unable to take anymore.
The noise cuts out immediately. Its then that I finally register that there's no one here but me. Me and the silent insanity of my own mind.
Movement from the right catches in my eye, and I turn to see the puppets all gathered on the top of my drawers, looking at me with a little caution from my sudden outburst. I swear, realizing they've just seen me talking to myself for a solid five minutes. Because they totally need to think I'm going insane right now.
"Sorry about that, you guys," I say as I run a hand through my hair, "It's just...it's been a...really bad night."
They don't do anything to imply they get it. They just stare at me.
"What?"
Nothing. They're all huddled around in a little circle, like there's something they don't want me to see.
That's when I notice the big apparatus off to the right. It's some kind of table- like something directly out of Frankenstein- with some metal bolts at the top, a little pile of a random rubber tube piled next to it. I frown.
"What..the hell have you guys been doing in here?" I ask as I get up to further inspect it. They don't answer me.
That's when I notice something strange about their little group.
I pause and do a headcount.
One, two, three four...there's eight of them.
There should only be seven.
A glint of something round and metallic that's standing behind Blade makes me take a step back.
"Who's...that behind you?" I ask, pointing to it.
Blade raises his chin at me, looking a little over his shoulder before he moves to the side to let whatever is behind him face me.
It's the puppet with the metallic head. Only this time, he's standing on his own, his hands outstretched in front of him like he's still getting the hang of it. His head is slowly turning from side to side, like he's regarding me.
My eyes widen.
"You brought him to life? How?!" I question.
Pinhead points to the table. It only makes me even more confused.
"Wait a minute, wasn't that in the bottom of the trunk? That's how you brought him to life?"
They nod.
"But, it looks so...complicated," I comment, "And it doesn't look like it hooks up to anything. And our fluid supply is already low-"
Something makes me freeze at the mention of the latter. A thought comes to me, making a balloon of dread creep up in my chest. I look back to the table, my heart sinking when I see the syringe and now empty vial sitting next to the tube.
I rush over and grab it, looking it over in disbelief before I shoot the puppets a look. "You guys used all of it? There was barely enough for three of you!"
They shrink back like a bunch of scolded children.
"Why would you do that?! Without me here, especially!" I reprimand, waving the vial at them, "Now, what am I supposed to do the next time you need a refill, huh? I don't know anything about the formula your dad...creator...whatever used, and you guys didn't even leave a drop!"
I sound angry, but on the inside I'm actually panicking. I don't know when the next time the puppets will need a refill will be. Probably soon, but we have literally nothing left of the fluid.
And if my puppets don't get the fluid, then they'll...my precious puppets...
No, don't go there, Gaelin.
"That is precisely why I was brought here," a voice suddenly says.
I stiffen, spinning around. There's nobody there. I look suspiciously at the ceiling, gripping the vial in my hands. "Who the hell said that?"
"I did," it replies. That's when I notice the metal headed puppet is gesturing to himself.
I lean back, a little apprehensive.
"You...you can talk," I say.
It nods its head. "For the moment, yes. But I'm afraid I don't have long. And there's so much we need to talk about."
How, though? You don't even have a mouth! I think.
I can't go through with my follow up questions, though, as I'm suddenly froze when I realize that the puppet's face is...changing?
Before I can't even comprehend it, its round, shining cranium morphing into a face. Not just any face, though. A human face. Complete with wrinkles, grey hair, and a beard. Greyish blue eyes blink before they move up to me- causing me to take a step back in fear- before the face smiles.
"What the fuck?" is all I manage to say.
The puppet's...man's...whatever's...face nods, a chuckle coming from him.
"I know you must have many questions right now, Gaelin," he says, like some kind of old man wanting to catch up with his grandson. "My puppets have informed me the extent of your knowledge, but I suspect I will know what to tell you if I ask you myself."
I swallow, uneasiness crawling over my skin like a horde of ants. "Your puppets, what...How do you know my name? Who are you?"
"Aw, of course, we should probably start with the introductions, shall we?" he says. He gives a short bow, putting a gloved hand to his chest.
"I am the one who created these dear puppets, and the owner of that journal you tried to educate yourself with," he says, "I am Andre Toulon."
A/N: I really want to take a second and apologize for the sudden hiatus this story has been on. I'm afraid my schoolwork has pretty much skyrocketed from 0 to 100, and its made my free time and motivation both dwindle.
This chapter itself was supposed to cover more, but I thought it important to really illustrate the internal conflict Gaelin is going through as the story progresses (and because I love to tease you all with a cliffhanger ;)), since it will be very important in later chapters. In good news, though, if story flow goes according to plan, we have officially less than ten chapters until the epilogue! My goal is to actually finish this sometime in the summer- at the least, hopefully early summer.
Thank you all for sticking with me.