[ON HOLD]
Carmen relished everyone's misfortune; better yet, she was the author of it.
After a childhood filled with hardships, conning people as a faux tarot card reader was the easy way out, and Carmen takes it. Being the bootstrapper that she is...
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10 Years Ago
Her luscious lips fidgeted over the warm porcelain mug, tracing the intricate details that stood slightly higher than the mug itself. Its pink base boasted patterns of the cherry blossom, something Carmen hadn't seen outside of pictures. The twirls of smoke emanating from the hot chocolate felt more enticing than the succulent drink.
Carmen had been... happy.
She was forced to see her grandmother every weekend - the sour bits of any week - courtesy of her father. Unbeknownst to himself, he had put his mother on a pedestal for caring for his daughter when he couldn't. Of course, Carmen knew otherwise.
Her grandmother was a little cuckoo, so unlike her father whom she was growing to love. She hardly understood where he had been all these years - something about a room entrapped by bars - but at least he was sane.
Carmen had often accompanied her grandmother on her tarot card trips. Each time, she sat in a corner, cringing at the odd faces the old woman made. She touched strangers' palms, blabbering on for hours on end as a line of customers trickled into her eldritch stall. Carmen didn't hear a great deal of what she said, but there was one word that stood out.
Misfortune.
She got up from her cosy spot, nestled between the plush sofa and the solid wall, and set her mug on the coffee table. Her grandmother had come for their weekly get-together. Carmen sometimes pondered why her grandmother enjoyed spending time with her.
As Carmen looked at her grandmother at the door, she realized that she appeared older. The bags under her eyes glistened as the light reflected off the salt water that surrounded her eyes. She was taking short, sharp breaths, indicating that she had run to meet Carmen.
That's odd. Old women can't run, Carmen reasoned.
After gasping for air, her grandmother suddenly collapsed to the ground. Carmen quickly rushed to her side, unsure of what to do. Although her father was skilled at calming people down, Carmen had not yet learned this technique from him.
So, she smiled. Her father's eyes always crinkled with joy at the sight of her dark lips turning upwards when she cracked a joke.
"What's wrong, Grandma?" she asked.
Her grandma's fingers curled around Carmen's bare shoulders almost instantly, her long nails digging into Carmen's smooth arms. A guttural wail escaped from her throat, causing Carmen to recoil at the wretched sound.
"Your father was at work, at the construction site," her grandmother said, hiccuping through every word, "Some idiot, he didn't do his job correctly. He let something fall."
Carmen kept her distance from the woman, afraid that her large and intimidating hands would cause harm once more.
"Your father's dead, Carmen," her grandmother screamed.
