Page 10 of Heart of a Killer

“A fucking rich bitch? You do realize we are in the same place, right? Your daddy’s money can’t help you here.”

A flash of emotions I can’t read crosses her face and transforms from her cold, resting bitch face to one of admiration. She smiles at me. Her whole demeanor changes as if she was only playing a part. I can tell. She’s one of those girls who will bully you till you bite back, but it shocks me when she starts laughing.

“I like you, trailer trash. We should sit together. I’ll fill you in on the people here.”

Astounded by her sudden change, my head only bobs in response and words stick in my throat. Does this girl know about Alex?

An aroma of beef stew fills my nose as the line moves closer to the cafeteria door. Following my new friend as we make our way through the lunch line, I see that it’s beef tips and noodles. I think I’m going to be sick from the smell of it. At least they give ice cream cups with a wooden spoon for dessert. That’s the only thing I’ll be eating for lunch today.

She guides us to a table in the back corner, and we sit side by side with our backs to the wall, giving us a view of everyone in the room.

“So, what’s your name, trailer park?”

“I thought I was trailer trash?”

She giggles, and her eyes light up a golden brown. She’s charming once she lets her walls down.

“You’re right.” She ponders on it with her index finger resting on her chin. “That does sound better. So, what’s your name, trailer trash?”

“Skylar.”

“Very cool. Boy name for a girl. I sometimes wish I would have been named Cody but spelled with an I. Just seems cooler,” she admits as she thrusts her hand out to me. “I’m Brieanna, but you can call me Brie.”

My palms are damp, and I try to wipe them on my pants before grabbing her hand. I don’t know if it’s this place, Alex being here, or the fact that she smells like flowers, but I’m sweating profusely. It’s not from the temperature, because it’s almost December, and they still haven’t turned on the heat.

“I mean, Skylar is a girl’s name, too. So, why call me trailer trash?” I ask out of curiosity, but it’s more about the paranoia which resides deep within my insecurities.

“I dunno, I was just being a bitch. It’s my way of fending people off until they meet the vibe check. Kinda like putting up walls.” I let out a sigh of relief until she continues on. “Your roots are growing in bad. Let me guess ...” Brie studies me with curious eyes. “Depression? Attempted suicide?”

I guess overtly blunt can be added to her list of traits, along with being mildly bitchy to strangers, but the real question is, how did she know? My unkempt appearance told her all that? I’ve lost considerable weight from not eating and letting myself go a bit, but I didn’t realize it was bad enough to notice. I guess Nicole was right to force me here. I need help if anyone can see that I’m damaged from the outside, too. After a long pause, my new friend goes on like nothing happened, my silence being enough for her.

“You should let me cut it.”

“How would you do that?” Skepticism pours through my words.

“Don’t worry, I have my ways,” she insists, with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Maybe.”

“Okay ... Well, I can tell you about everyone here. I sit here every day, and people watch.”

I must have a quizzical look on my face because she just waves her hand, blowing off whatever sarcastic comment I am about to make.

“You see Clarissa over there?” She points.

My eyes follow to a middle-aged woman with wild, curly brown hair sitting on the other side of the cafeteria. She seems zoned out, looking off at who-knows-what. There’s only a white wall in front of her.

“She says she’s a clairvoyant who can see into the future or some shit. She will randomly have outbursts, and sometimes she’ll even tell you when you’ll die.” Sorrow fills her eyes, and she admits, “Only one person has died so far, so don’t worry.”

She clears her throat and moves on. I wonder what that was about, and before I can think about it further, she points to the other side of the lunchroom to a pale person with blond hair. “There is Sam, really fun to be around, but sometimes the songs get a bit much. They say it helps drown out the voices.”

“I met them when I got the tour this morning.” Was that what they were telling me? Song lyrics?

“Oh yeah, they’re really nice but can be a bit much sometimes. I don’t think they can really help it, but they’re harmless. Just a very bold personality,” she says before moving on again. “Then there is Gertrude. Don’t get in her way. She will beat you with her cane. She’s really aggressive. I heard she killed her husband, saved his penis, and fed his body to her cats.”

“What did she do with the penis?”

Brie laughs. “You really don’t wanna know.”

---