Dont Blame Me

Chapter 27

Ashley hums, and both of our eyes track over the houses. They're not lit up yet, but some of them make it obvious what the theme is.

"Our childhood," I murmur, noting the dollhouse dubbed Annie's Playhouse alongside a house called the Tea Massacre. The entrance is a massive teddy bear with a missing eye, a torn ear, and blood splattered across its fur while a bloody knife is gripped in its hand.

It gives life to a memory from my own childhood, alongside millions of other little girls, sitting at a table full of stuffed animals and empty teacups.
That house won't be a pleasant tea party, but one full of killer stuffed animals and creepy monsters.

"This is going to taint every single one of our childhood memories, isn't it?" I conclude.

"Oh yeah," Ashley says, her lips twisted with both excitement and dread.

I grab Ashley's hand and lead her towards the food trucks. We like to eat first before we get harassed by monsters. It makes it awkward when a corndog is shoved halfway down my throat while a creepy monster is standing over me and breathing down my neck.

"What sounds good?" I ask, my eyes roving hungrily over the endless options.

"How can you even choose?" Ashley whines, sharing my dilemma.

"We have to at least get a mean hot dog and the truffle fries. Oh! And the fried veggies. Oh, and maybe-"

"You're not narrowing it down like you think you are," Ashley interrupts, her tone dry.

"Okay, fine. That broken doll over there is eating a philly steak. What about that and some fries for now?" I ask.

"Lead the way," she says, throwing her hand out in an impatient gesture.

I don't even laugh-I take food just as seriously when I'm hungry.
By the time the lady in the food truck is handing me my food, I'm ravenous and shaking with the need to sink my teeth into something of substance.

Grease sizzles on our fries as we shove them into our impatient mouths, forcing us to suck in air as they singe our tongues. And by the time we find an empty bench, my fries have already been devoured, and I've taken several delicious bites of my sandwich.
Ashley's even further done than I am-probably because the wench has been relying on me to find the spot to sit.

Finally, I sit down and shove the sandwich in my mouth, not caring about the juices dribbling down my chin. In the back of my mind, I wonder if Lisa is here. Watching me like she usually does. Would she be disgusted by my lack of manners?
I fucking hope so.
Then again, the prick would say something about how she likes me dirty, and then I'd want to vomit in her face.
Liar.

Just as we finish our food, the haunted houses come to life, the lights switching on and signaling that it's time for guests to get in line. Ashley and I rush over to Annie's Playhouse first, nabbing a spot pretty close to the front. We're leaning against the rails when an icy feeling tingles at the base of my neck, traveling down my spine. It feels like holes are being drilled into my back.

"Rosie?" a voice calls from behind me along with a soft tap on my shoulder, just as I'm getting ready to turn around.

My eyes widen, and I whip around, coming face to face with Mark.
Oh, fuck me.

"Mark!" I exclaim in surprise, forcing a smile onto my face. I've never been very good at acting, especially when I have to pretend to be glad to see a pedophile standing behind me.
Make that four pedophiles.
With him is Claire, and three other elderly men. I vaguely recognize them, and assume they're politicians of some caliber as well.

"What are the odds? I didn't know you came here," Mark says, his eyes consistently straying to Ashley. "Who's your friend?"

Ashley smiles, though she doesn't even try to make hers seem genuine. "Ashley," she answers for me.