Page 12 of The Masks She Wore

?I changed into something more appropriate for the outside world. A pair of dark colored, acid washed, straight-legged denim jeans with a few large holes in them, over a pair of black fishnets, and an over-sized wool-knit light tan sweater, one corner tucked into the high-waisted jeans.

?I pulled my hair half back with a low big black bow, pulled on a pair of black booties and a white knit beanie before grabbing my purse and heading for the door.

?I slid in my headphones, putting on my favorite playlist as I stepped into the chilling October air. I loved Fall. I loved the fashion, the colors, but most of all, I loved Halloween.

?I loved the fear that came with the paranormal. I loved the adrenaline rush, I loved the high of it. I loved the thrill. I loved the idea that ghosts wandered this world, watching us in our darkest moments. I loved the idea of something from beyond terrorizing houses, asylums, hospitals. It was addicting, the high. The chill drifting over my skin, the goosebumps, the tingling spine.Fuck, I loved it all.

?I once confided with Viv that sometimes it turned me on, it made me want to do nasty things, that sometimes I fantasized about ghosts getting me off in the middle of the night or other dark things, and she gave me this look of pure disgust. That was the last time I ever told her about the fantasies in my head. She didn’t understand it and that was fine, I didn’t expect or need her too.

?I had done my fair share of research into paranormal kinks. I even had a collection of books of monsters and poltergeists doing unnatural things to the living. It wasn’t wrong, it was just different.

?Different was good sometimes.

?The only time it was wrong was when you shared it with someone. So, I would never share it with anyone ever again. My special-order monster toys were mine and mine alone. I could have my fun with whomever I decided to take home that night, andnobody needed to know that when I was alone, I had a different kind of fun.

?Speaking of fun, this month there was a carnival in town, the same one that came every year around Halloween.Cirque Du Amour. Viv swore she would never go, and I did my duty every year by begging her to go anyway because I knew it would be fun. It wasn’t as terrifying as she made it out to be, in fact, there were plenty of parents who brought their kids, and I didn’t want to ever go alone, even though that’s always how it ended up.

?But this year she hadfinallyagreed to go with me, and I couldn’twait! We were going to have so much fun. I got us tickets for the 28thand I had already picked out my costume. I was so excited that I could barely contain myself.

?Max had his own opinions on my obsessions though, almost ruining everything about Halloween for me. He thought it was sick and twisted that I was enraptured with all things horror especially since my mom had only just been murdered by a stranger in an alley, but this was how I had always been. Besides, my belief could lead to other things. What if mom had stuck around, her spirit drifting around this world, checking in on me every so often. The thought brought an immense amount of comfort, and I’d hold onto it no matter what anyone thought, especially someone like Max.

?I rolled my shoulders just as the sound of a motorcycle revving flew past me.

?A smile touched my lips as I watched after the male dressed in all black, his bike blacked out. I wondered what that high felt like.

?Maybe I should get myself a motorcycle.

?I rolled my eyes. God, I felt as if I were chasing a high I would never be able to catch. A high I wasn’t sure even existed. I had felt like something was missing from my life every single day since my mom was reported dead.

?It wasn’t her, of that I was sure, but it was something. As if something had been stolen from me and I hadn’t figured it out yet.

?Maybe those answers would come with me solving her case, but until then, all I needed was a coffee break and a sandwich.

4

Jack

October 20th, 2019

Ishut off the bike and watched as she walked into the café across the street. Fuck, she was beautiful. Even on this slightly overcast day, the streams of sunlight managed to find a way to light up her blonde hair, giving her a sort of angelic look as she walked with a kind of grace most people didn’t have unless they went through some kind of agility training.

?I waited until a few others walked in after her before I swung my leg over my bike, pulled off my helmet, leaving it on my handlebars, adjusted my bag, and headed across the street.

?The scent of coffee hit me as soon as I opened the cafédoor, a little chime sounding.

?“Welcome,” the barista greeted before returning to her customer.

?I found a seat in the corner, giving me a perfect view of the room, ordered a black coffee, and sat back, watching as she sipped at her coffee, ate her food, and scrolled.

?From the way she drank her coffee, it seemed like she almost didn’t like it, yet here she was, drinking it. It always seemed that way though. A strange little flick of her lips as if her tongue was disgusted in the taste but her mind was so used to the idea of it that she couldn’t help herself.

?I pulled up her screen on my phone and studied what she was looking at.

?Instagram at first. Scrolling through her own profile for reasons unknown to me. I hated social media. We were meant to be ghosts, unknown to the world, social media was the opposite of that, but fuck, she was beautiful.

?To the world she lived such a loud and amazing life, which wasn’t a complete lie. When she did decide to leave her apartment, she was friendly with everyone. She took pictures of everything she did, everything she saw. She documented her life as if she needed the world to believe she was someone she wasn’t.

?I wondered why she felt the need. Advertising on social media was the perfect way to be stalked, hunted, killed. Anyone could find anyone in this world of technology, which was why I specialized init. Hunting was easy when the prey flaunted themselves everywhere.

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