Shark eyes were a good way of describing it. My pupils were so unbelievably wide that only a thin ring of color encircled it. And the weirdest, scariest, creepiest thing was that the color wasn’t blue, as it should have been. But brown. A golden brown.
“They’re brown!” I cried out.
“What?” Ada came over to me and gave me another examination. “No they aren’t, they’re blue. And horrifying.”
I looked back at the mirror. My pupils were stil huge but the ring of color was the cornflower blue of my own eyes.
The brown was gone. Maybe it was never there.
“What did you take?” she asked me. “You promised you weren’t going to do drugs anymore, Perry.”
I was shocked and actual y offended at her accusation. I wanted to protest angrily but I could see how hurt she was just by thinking it.
Looking at her honestly, with my funny eyes, I said “I didn’t take anything, Ada. I haven’t done drugs for who knows how long. Haven’t even touched the stuff. I’m not on anything. Not even those painkil ers.”
She was hesitant to believe me. I couldn’t blame her. I must have done a number on her back when I was her age.
I was one stupid teenager.
“But what if you’re sleepdrugging,” she said quietly.
I took one last look at my scary-assed face and brushed past her to my closet.
“Now you’re just being ridiculous. Where would I even get drugs from?”
“Where did you get the nail polish from?”
“Wel , I guess I picked it up at Walgreens,” I said, glaring at her, “right next to the crack cocaine aisle.”
I put a Baroness tee on and a hoodie and hopped back in bed. Ada was stil watching me.
“Aren’t you going out?” I asked her, not wanting her company anymore.
“Are you going to be OK?” she asked.
“I’m not on drugs,” I insisted, my tone laced with annoyance.
“If you say so,” she replied. “Cal me, though, if you need anything. Just try and make sure you’re awake when you do it.”
She gave me a compassionate smile and left the room, closing the door behind her.
“Patronizing bitch,” I mumbled in a strange voice. I quickly clapped my hand over my mouth, horrified at what came out of it. I didn’t mean to say that. I wasn’t even feeling it. Or was I?
I had to distract myself. The more I focused on what was happening, and the peculiar way I was feeling, the more scared I got. I almost felt there were two parts inside me arguing with each other. One was very mean and wanted to do mean things to Ada, Ash, my parents. The other side was fearful and cowering. At this rate, the mean side would win. I would be Mr. Hyde.
I picked up the remote and flicked on the TV. Though it was plugged in again, I hadn’t watched it since the incident the other night. A note of terror tugged at my heart in anticipation of something supernatural happening but everything looked normal and bright. The episode of Friends where Ross and Chandler have to pivot the couch was on and the laugh track was coming from the speakers.
I giggled despite myself and settled back in my bed, deciding to spend the evening watching sitcom reruns. I couldn’t remember the last time I had done something like that and mindless entertainment was long overdue.
After two episodes of Friends and two episodes of Frasier, I heard my dad pul his car into the driveway and a wave of relief rushed through me. Subconsciously, I must have been on edge, despite the antics of Niles Crane.
I heard the front door open and my mom saying something to him. Then I heard their footsteps cross the driveway and the car doors close.
“Nooo!” I cried out and ran to the window. My dad’s SUV
was backing up down the drive, my mom in the passenger seat. They pul ed onto the street and disappeared into the darkness and waving trees.
“Fuck,” I swore. They probably just went to a friend’s house or out to get food, but that meant I was al alone in the big house for who knows how long. The wind whipping around outside, the cold blasts, and shuddering windows weren’t making the situation any calmer. Of al days, I did not want to be by myself.
I tried to watch a rerun before prime time kicked in but couldn’t get into it. I left it on so that the voices would keep me company but my mind was al over the place. I kept relaying the events from the day over and over again and wondered what was next.
Twenty minutes later, an old episode of The Outer Limits came on the tube. Now that was something I didn’t need to see. I made the move to switch the channel and as I picked up the remote I knocked the miscarriage pamphlet off the bed. It made a solid sound as it landed on the floor.
Odd. It was essential y just a few pages and light as a feather.
I looked over the edge of my bed and saw the pamphlet sticking up at a funny angle, as if there was something under it. Curiously, I reached down and picked it up.