Wednesday, October 26, 2016

#4 - Theatrics

Ava let her hands trail down the sides of her yellow dress. Maybe it was too bright, too bold for a murder mystery dinner. 

The invitation had arrived on her doorstep shortly after her brother arrived. She left him there, to unpack his things and catch up on sleep. She didn't want to go, really, but it was all anyone in the apartment could talk about. It seemed as though they had all been invited, and everyone was too curious to turn it down. 

When she arrived at the seventh floor storage room, it was no longer the vacant space she knew. A long, mahogany table stretched across the center of the room. The places were meticulously set, with white plates and shiny silverware to match. 

Her invitation indicated she was the sidekick, someone who was supposed to help discover the murderer. It was about 9:15 when the conversation and theatrics settled into full swing, and the clues were starting to make sense. 

Still, Ava felt unsettled. The unblinking eyes of the Ringmaster seemed to bore straight into her. They were supposed to have left the city already, she was certain of that. Yet, him and his striped pants remained, along with his shadow and his monkey. No one else seemed to question it in even the slightest way, but after the circus, his presence was enough to send chills down her spine.

Leaning against the back of her chair, Ava sat and watched, waiting for clues. She checked her watch. It was almost 9:30. 

A minute later, the lights shut off. 

Adrenaline coursed through her veins. This is it, she thought, this is when it will all come together. 

When the lights flickered back on, everything felt wrong. Across from her, a scream pierced the silence. The ringmaster’s sidekick was lying facedown in his soup, blood overflowing from the bowl. 


At first, Ava thought it was the dinner, the theatrics. Then Tom checked his pulse and declared him dead. She wanted to scream, to run out of the room with tears streaming down her face. She was just glad that she wasn't leaving the party in red.

#4 - Theatrics

Ava let her hands trail down the sides of her yellow dress. Maybe it was too bright, too bold for a murder mystery dinner. 

The invitation had arrived on her doorstep shortly after her brother arrived. She left him there, to unpack his things and catch up on sleep. She didn't want to go, really, but it was all anyone in the apartment could talk about. It seemed as though they had all been invited, and everyone was too curious to turn it down. 

When she arrived at the seventh floor storage room, it was no longer the vacant space she knew. A long, mahogany table stretched across the center of the room. The places were meticulously set, with white plates and shiny silverware to match. 

Her invitation indicated she was the sidekick, someone who was supposed to help discover the murderer. It was about 9:15 when the conversation and theatrics settled into full swing, and the clues were starting to make sense. 

Still, Ava felt unsettled. The unblinking eyes of the Ringmaster seemed to bore straight into her. They were supposed to have left the city already, she was certain of that. Yet, him and his striped pants remained, along with his shadow and his monkey. No one else seemed to question it in even the slightest way, but after the circus, his presence was enough to send chills down her spine.

Leaning against the back of her chair, Ava sat and watched, waiting for clues. She checked her watch. It was almost 9:30. 

A minute later, the lights shut off. 

Adrenaline coursed through her veins. This is it, she thought, this is when it will all come together. 

When the lights flickered back on, everything felt wrong. Across from her, a scream pierced the silence. The ringmaster’s sidekick was lying facedown in his soup, blood overflowing from the bowl. 


At first, Ava thought it was the dinner, the theatrics. Then Tom checked his pulse and declared him dead. She wanted to scream, to run out of the room with tears streaming down her face. She was just glad that she wasn't leaving the party in red.

Monday, October 3, 2016

#3 - Brother

Her roses were dying. 

They sat on the windowsill, brown creeping up the stem. The petals lay on the white wood, folding in on themselves. 

The cold was infiltrating everything. It crept into the walls, into everything it could get its icy hands on. Ava hated winter. It killed so much of the beauty in the world. That was why she moved to California in the first place, to escape the suffocating chill that never left her bones. 

Still, Ava didn’t want to be trapped inside her apartment. She was already alone enough as it is. Since she’s been back, it’s like everyone she used to know has become a stranger to her. After the incident, she didn't think she’d be able to come back. Maybe she shouldn’t have, after all.

The only person that she really interacted with was that boy from the tattoo parlor, the one who never seemed to pull his head out of the clouds. She spent all day trying to pick out photos to give to him to hang up in the store, and finally picked her favorite three. 

One was a picture she took from the greenhouse. It was the first time she was ever able to catch it while it was open. Rows and rows of flowers and beautiful green leaves, like a never ending maze of pastels.

Another was one she took of the mountains just outside of San Francisco. She wanted to remind herself, to remind everyone, that that kind of serenity—the kind found at the peak, watching the sun rise—is truly attainable. 

The last was one she took of her room. All the yellow glistened in the sun, and the clutter seemed staged. Clothes strewn everywhere, rolls of film left on the floor waiting to be developed. 

She was going to take them to him, but a knock echoed throughout her apartment. 

Someone was at her door for the first time. 

With hesitant steps, she opened the door. Her jaw dropped. 

In front of her stood her brother, just as pale and skinny as ever. His shocking blue eyes matched hers, except his lips pushed his frost bitten cheeks into a grin. 

Heart racing in her chest, Ava took a step back. 

“Jake?” she asked, breath almost catching in her throat. “You shouldn’t—there’s no way you’re here. After what happened… I don’t understand.” 

“That’s no way to greet someone, Ava,” he teased, patting her head. Ava flinched. “Why don’t you let me inside and we’ll… catch up.” 


Before Ava could even answer, Jake had stepped into her apartment and shut the door behind him.