Refreshing
general trigger warning: the following is a horror story of sorts, contains mentions of cannibalism, body mutilation, mind games, talk of gaslighting etc.
I hide myself well.
Well, they put me on a committee. When such things are voted on popularity and friendships and networking, and considering that I loathe every one of them, my presentation is flawless. (As it always is.)
I am also organized. I keep all my notes here: charts of who I am supposed to be, who I'm supposed to like, and what flaws I have presented to the world to make myself normal. It also contains my five year plan, which began three weeks ago, and so far, is going quite well. After all, Laura and Dan went missing two and a half weeks ago, and no one knows where they are. (I am sure no one is surprised, if someone is reading this, that I do know, and that I am the cause of their disappearance, that I am the reason they will never put on their cap and gown. But no one else knows this.)
I hide myself well.
I volunteer for decorations, and my girlfriend is doing refreshments. Her dad works in a bakery, so it was pretty obvious from the start. Me? I'm known as a fashion plate, and anyone who has come into my house knows I know something about making things look good. (This part of me is a truth, because I like fine things, and I like looking at fine things, and there is nothing wrong or bad about that. It calms and centers my mind so I can do fine things.) I've been slowly guiding Kyla to my true mindset for almost a year now, and I think she's almost ready for the truth. There are times I think she will break, but others when I see the magnificent creature she will be, and I didn't make her, oh no, I help her become, even if she never knows it.
I hide myself well.
She comes to my house for the final piece, because I ask her to. I tell her I have a special recipe for the punch, she smiles and I know she knows. (Where are my parents? Of course I have parents, but they are on another one of their extended business trips and I am such a trustworthy child, so good, so lovely. By the time they get back their chest freezer will be normal again, and only Kyla and I will ever know it once held Laura and Dan.) Kyla comes and I already have the ingredients laid out, the strawberries and raspberries and ice and a hint of lemon juice, the sparkling water and of course, a bit of Laura and a bit of Dan. She looks at the counter, the frozen bits of body, and back to me. I tell her what it is and she laughs. We kiss, and bring out the blender. She puts on an apron, and it's almost domestic.
We will hide well.
That fateful night, she is in deep red, my tie and vest matching. We swirl across the floor, and she whispers how she'll flay Bobby Janson or roast Julie Norbent. I whisper back at her, and when the King and Queen are crowned we drink punch solemnly and promise one day we'll eat them, sashes and all. It is the best night of my life. Except the plan falls apart. She...she comes out of hiding too quickly. She's found burying Laura in a shallow grave next to her latest kill-poor Bobby-his pinky finger still between her teeth. She broke after all. I hear when they arrested her, she kept whispering about the ovary punch, and the cock cocktail (I will give her points for lovely names for my creations, and for the set up she gave me to be disbelieving friend who bravely defends her as long as they possibly can.) I play my role and life moves on, and to this day, she has never confessed my part in it.
After all, I hide myself well.