"STOP IT!"
Large hands grabbing and pulling.
"YOU LITTLE BRAT!"
"STAY AWAY FROM US!"
"AAAAHH—" CRACK.
Pooling. Shock.Hearts pounding.
Breath ragged. Feet running and running and running. Daylight.
"...Let—Scar... Scarlet! WAKE UP!"
Startled green eyes snap open. My chest heaves like I've just run a marathon. I blink up at David, his amber eyes locked on mine.
"Was it that dream again?" he asks.
I take a deep breath and flop back against the pillow, pressing a hand to my chest, gripping the fabric like it'll ground me.
"Yeah... You'd think after all these years, they'd stop."
My hand falls to my side. I stare at the ceiling—there's a stain spreading across the plaster. It started small, but over the years it's grown, slowly swallowing the once-pristine white.
I sit up and start getting ready. David's already fixing my bed, fluffing my pillow like some neat freak on a mission.
"You're such a slob. It takes literally two seconds to make the bed when you get up," he says, half teasing. "At this rate, I'll never marry you off."
"David, you're literally only two seconds older than me," I mutter. "Besides, what's the point? I'm just gonna crawl back in and mess it up again tonight. Pointless."
I glance in the mirror. A pale version of myself stares back. I don't look as dead as I feel, lucky me. Dull green eyes that used to sparkle, now tired and flat. Red hair that still manages to compliment the freckles across my nose.
With a sigh, I gather my things. I inhale deep, puff out my chest.
"Lettttss gooooo!"
Mask on. Push the nightmare back. Be who they know me to be: goofy, playful, the girl who never lets anything get to her. Glass half full. Always. That's the motto.
Scarlet is the name I was born with, the real me, the one who kills in the dark and doesn't flinch at death.But out there, in the real world, I'm Jade the seamstress with steady hands and a well-practiced laugh.
I am the mask, I am the mask, I am the mask.
If I tell myself that long enough... maybe I'll start to believe it. Maybe I can leave the darkness behind. The stain.
With a tap of my shoes against the floor, I swing open the door. David's standing there with that stupid grin.
"What?" I snap. "Why are you looking at me like that? You look like an idiot."
He walks ahead, still grinning. "Can't a guy just be content?"
I catch up to him, giving him a sideways glare, though a small smile tugs at my lips. I'm still trying to shake off the lingering weight of the dream.
"Hey, don't forget, we're meeting at 8:30 tonight. Charlie said he'd have the supplies ready at the drop," David reminds me.
I twitch. "Tch. I won't forget! Have I ever been late? Or not shown up? You really piss me off sometimes, I don't know why I keep you around."
Without warning, I'm ambushed. A full-on bear hug from the side, David rubbing his face against mine.
"Because you love me! You couldn't get rid of me even if you tried."
"No. More like I stepped in shit, and now you're stuck to the bottom of my boot," I growl, pushing him off. "Get off, you're annoying."
I fix my plain seamstress dress, patting down stray hairs. We step onto the main street, grab a quick breakfast. Still, something feels off. Heavy.
David throws his arm back dramatically, waving goodbye like a lunatic.
"Have a good day!"
I smile despite myself. He's a dork. He drives me crazy. But he's solid. I wouldn't have made it this far without him.
"Hey, David!" I yell after him.
"Yeah?" he calls, turning, hair blowing in the breeze. He looks confused.
I hesitate. What would I do without you?
"Nothing! Just... have a good day, idiot!"
When I walk into work, I'm greeted by the head seamstress and shop owner, Ida. Her salt-and-pepper hair is pulled up in a high bun, and the lines around her eyes tell stories I don't have time to hear today.
"Good morning, my dear Jade," she calls from behind a table, folding fabric.
"Good morning, Mrs. Ida. Ready for the day?"
"Of course. I've already pulled some of the fabric we'll need. We've got a few military personnel coming in today—they need formalwear for some political event."
I walk around the counter and grab my work apron, the one with the pockets stuffed with pins and measuring tape.
"Oh really? I hope they're not as uptight as usual. They always act so..."
I stop myself. I can feel the rant coming on, and I've only just pulled myself out of a funk. No point diving back in.
Ida smirks, clearly knowing where I was headed.
"And they always have an eye for you," she finishes with a chuckle. "Men can't help acting foolish when a pretty woman's around."
I give her the look. The one that says please, I'd rather eat glass. I'll never understand men. Even David turns into a complete moron around women, puffing himself up like a damn peacock.
They're only good for one thing, and it sure as hell isn't conversation. I've sworn them off. Emotions? Gross. Complications? No thank you.
Suppressing the urge to gag, I shake off the thought.
"Hmpf. Still annoying," I mumble, tugging at the corner of the apron. "I'll never meet a man worth my time."