Page 100 of Carnival
The longer I sit behind the dumpster, hidden, with only a part of my face peeking out, the less real any of this feels. It’s like time is passing by in slow motion; everything around me is getting blurry.
Six months ago, my biggest issue was whether or not James would leave prison. I remember thinking how much easier everything would’ve been with him by my side. Six months ago, my deepest, darkest secret was the fact that I killed someone and that I had no way of coping with the information in a healthy way.
Six months ago, I was willing to make all of this work.
Six months ago, I wanted to live.
Now, life seems pointless. Vivian planted the bombs on these people, and they either willingly took on the suicide mission, or they were forced to do it. Either way, tonight will end in the death of many people, and it’s all my fault.
If I hadn’t tried to escape Vivian’s clutches, she wouldn’t have gone off the rails, and none of this would’ve happened. If I had only played the part that she wanted me to play, these people here would get to go home tonight.
It took me seeing destruction about to happen to realize that I’ve been too selfish.
I was naive.
I thought that somehow, eventually, all of this would turn out to be okay. In a perfect world, I’d find a way to overcome my insecurities, learn how to live with the guilt I feel about killing Willow, and spend the rest of my life with James by my side.
But life isn’t perfect, and I don’t deserve one.
If I’d stayed put, I’d be the one to eventually die. Not all of these innocent people.
My eyes are glued on a couple nearby. They just exited the circus; the girl’s genuine laughter fills my ear. Her partner wraps his arm around her shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
My heart clenches, and on some level, I’m just thankful this event doesn’t allow children.
All of these people are someone’s children, someone’s family.
Although nothing has happened yet, the guilt is starting to eat me on the inside. A void appears, and it’s deep enough that it’s starting to swallow me whole. The monster that is the darkness of my mind promises not to leave anything alive until I’m drowning in the iniquity I’ve created.
I take a deep breath, glancing around for Maverick. Once I’m positive he isn’t around, I push myself off the ground, wincing atthe pain that shoots through my entire body. Days of continuous hitting, wearing heels while my feet haven’t recovered, start catching up with me at the worst possible time.
The snow beneath me isn’t lessening the pain this time. Instead, it reminds me of how much I’m struggling to stand, how much all of this is affecting me, to the point of not being able to take a single step forward without feeling as if someone is stabbing my legs with needles repeatedly.
“Excuse me,’’ I raise my voice a little when I reach a young woman, seemingly in her early thirties.
“Yes?” She turns to look at me, scanning me head to toe. A frown is on her face, especially when her eyes dip down to my feet. “Are you alright?”
I laugh it off. “Ah, I work here. This is just a costume,’’ I lie through my teeth. “I lost my phone. My shift’s ending soon, and I need to call my dad to pick me up. Can I borrow your phone?”
“Sure,’’ she responds, a bit uncertain, but whisks out the device from her purse. She unlocks it, and hands it to me. “Here. If you run away with it, let me warn you, I’ll hunt you down.’’
I give her a tight smile, stepping back just a little as I take the phone from her hands. My fingers tremble as I type out the only phone number I remember by heart and press the call button. I put the phone to my ear, hearing it ring.
It takes four rings for the call to go through.
“Arlo speaking.’’
“Arlo,’’ I whisper.
“Where the fuck are you, Rose?” His voice rises immediately, and a sigh of relief comes from me. He recognized my voice. He actually recognized my voice.
“At the Carnival. I don’t know the exact address.’’
“Still in New York?”
“Yes.’’
“Are you okay?”
