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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2126480
A teen plagued with insecurity masks her true identity in order to be accepted.
Desiree sat on the couch before the television, watching an old eighties flick about a toxic mutant. Steam hissed off its face as it peeled its flesh off its boiling skin.

After having pulled back the stringy cheese pizza she devoured, she grew instantly nauseous and tossed it on the paper plate. “Ugh... why do these movies have to be so graphic.”

“It’s all fake.” Her younger sister, Lizzie, by three years said. “You see the way the flesh is boiling like that, and you notice the hues of the skin, I mean even look at the cornea... Totally fallacious.” She scarfed down another bite of extra cheese pizza.”

“Well, Manny will be here in about two hours. Better get ready.” Desiree stands up.

“Manny? Which means you two will be going out for another three-hour thrill ride, leaving your neglected fourteen year old sister home alone. You’re lucky I haven’t told Mom and Pop about your escapades... It’s amazing how thin the string of your life hangs. Just a simple mention of what you’ve been doing, and you can kiss your teenage years goodbye.”

“You do know I know where you sleep.” Desiree smiled. Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Shit. I got pizza sauce on this blouse.”

“You only have five hundred articles of clothing in your room, Desiree. I think you can find something.”

“You don’t understand...” Tears well in Desiree’s eyes. “Tonight was going to be special... The competition is heavy out there, and Manny... He’s like any other guy coming of age... Doesn’t know what or who he wants... I notice him looking at the other girls... I wore this shirt the first time we met... I wanted to wear it when...” She feels the soft material between her fingers. “You won’t understand...”

“I’ll give you some sisterly advice...” Lizzie watched the mutant walk toward the screen, a cop in the distance, gun primed. “Screw him...” The mutant’s head exploded in green and red goo. Lizzie scarfs down another mouthful of pizza.

Desiree uttered beneath her breath. “Yeah...”

Desiree pulled down the chain that sparked the bulb in the empty laundry room. She examined the stain, at least four inches by diameter. “Such a pig...” Desiree tossed the shirt in the laundry machine. Never having really washed clothes before, Desiree was always told that bleach would be the best remedy for taking out stains. Thank God it was a white blouse.

She eyed the chemicals on the overhead shelf with no luck, just laundry detergent, fabric softener, bug sprays and whatnot. There has to be something she could concoct to take the stain out. Shrugging, she grabbed everything in the collection, and dripped a drop of each chemical, anywhere from detergent and fabric softeners to insecticide and mopping solution. People always said she swam on the shallow side of the gene pool. She never knew what that meant, but she was, if anything, resourceful enough to get her out of any situation.

Lizzie slammed the laundry machine shut and turned the silver dial to deep soil, water hot.

She returned to the room. Lizzie was watching another mutant gnaw off someone’s ear. “You want me to fix that shirt for you? This movie is beginning to get as stale as the pizza.”

“I got it taken care of... Threw it in the laundry machine.”

“You what?” Lizzie sat upward. “But we’re out of bleach. Only ten minutes, hair spray and baking powder will get it out...”

“I told you, I took care of it. Besides, I need to make my face anyways. You know how Manny gets when I am a hair shy of perfection.”

“Yes...” Lizzie rested her cheek on her balled fist. “I know.”

* * *

The dryer buzzed.

Desiree progressed through the living room, putting on ear rings.

A loud scream rang, which prompted Lizzie to jump off the couch and run to her rescue. “What’s wrong?”

“My shirt! Look!”

Lizzie cast a glance at the white shirt. “The stains are gone. What’s wrong?”

“It’s too white.”

Lizzie gave one more examination of the shirt, which looked no different than how it had before the stain was removed. “You’re losing it... White is white...”

“You just don’t get it...” Desiree switched shirts in front of Lizzie, and felt the fabric. “Well, it is... Softer... Huh... It worked. Go figure. Maybe I’m not such an idiot after all...”

Lizzie was turned aback. It was never like Desiree to down herself like that, at least not before she met Manny.

“Well I still need to do my face. He’ll be here in half an hour!” Desiree stormed off. Lizzie watched her blankly, and followed her into the living room.

A tingling itch began to creep on Desiree back and skittered on her shoulders, and down her midriff. She began to scratch ferociously at it. “Agh! It burns! Help!” Lizzie froze in her track as she watched Desiree scratch at her shirt, spinning. “Help me get it off!”

Lizzie ran up to her sister, and began to lift the shirt off. Desiree screamed. The shirt wouldn’t give. Lizzie tugged harder, and noticed the shirt was literally stuck on Desiree. Green pools began to soak on the white shirt, Desiree fell to her knees, as her skin boiled and popped. “Help me...”

In all urgency, Lizzie knelt down beside Desiree, who groveled, “My skin... My skin... What will Manny think?” She began to whimper.

Lizzie pulled Desiree up, “I’m taking you to the hospital.” Desiree launched at Lizzie, gnawing her teeth into her flesh. Lizzie screamed bloody murder, as Desiree began to feed on her younger sister.

In great distress, Lizzie ran to the front door. Desiree got up and ran to the kitchen.

Fumbling with the locks on the door, Lizzie was distracted by a loud growl from behind and turned to see Desiree, butcher knife raised over her head, pounce on her.

Kicking and screaming, Lizzie gave out guttural pleas for help as the knife hammered in and out of her. Splotches of blood splattered on a picture of Desiree and Lizzie, two young girls smiling with bright futures ahead, on a table beside the front entrance.

* * *

The doorbell rang.

Desiree touched up the last bit of her face. “Coming!”

She went to her purse, checked for everything, in stride across the living room. “I’ll be back later. No ifs or buts. If you tell Mom or Dad, I’ll kill you. Of course, you know, I’m just kidding.”

Lizzie, lain back on couch, wore a frozen face of terror, her stomach gutted, entrails spread about, before the glow of the television. “Don’t watch too much TV, either. It’s bad for you.”

The door slammed.

Manny, in the car, watched Desiree waltz up to the car. Brown tank top with flannel shirt. Something was off about her gait. No telling with women. A red glow beamed like a one-eyed bat from the end of the cigarette he sucked, and blew out a wad of smoke, playing tough guy. Girls ate it up, so he figured. “What took you so long?”

“You know...” She opened the passenger side door, “Girl stuff...”

“Something I’d rather not get educated about...” Manny slid an arm behind her shoulders. “Wanna grab a bite to eat?”

“I actually had my fill...” She looked him up and down, “We can just get on with it.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked, but her eyes said everything. He started the car and raced down the street.

Car going fifty down a twenty, Manny added, “I know just the place, there’s a strip of road about ten minutes away, leads to a lake. Perfect place.”

It took less than four minutes to get there, the way Manny floored it.

The car came to a stop before the black crystal lake. He looked Desiree up and down, legs crossed. She rubbed her hand up his thigh. “So, you want to” She planted a finger over his lips, and unzipped him. She noticed he was already ready to play, if not a bit prematurely. He reached for her blouse.

Desiree flinched back, and looked away through the passenger window. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

“What?”

Tears began to roll down her cheeks, she began to sob. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

“Babe, you’re a ten outta ten. No come on, before I explode.”

He watched her rub her tears. “Now, hey there... We can take a rain check. I do think you’re gorgeous.”

She turned, and Manny jumped back, bracing the door. Long streaks of claws flesh dug through Desiree’s bleeding, boiling, puss-filled face. She smiled, showing a jack-o-lantern sort of smile bearing missing teeth. “That’s all I needed to know. Now let’s fuck like an animal!”

The car began rocking, axles creaking, as loud thumps and bangs and muffled cries ringed within the vehicle. Blood splattered on the foggy windows within thick stream roiled.
© Copyright 2017 Dalimer Corwyn (deathmyrk at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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