Black Crescent Bay

barren heart

A/N:

read and see, skanks

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I dotted my eyes with blue iridescent glitter, and I pulled on this skin-tight slinky blue dress. I strapped up my sparkly aquamarine heels that elevated my calves. I was showing off my legs tonight. I had to. I missed them. I didn't even know how much until now. My hair was curled into little golden ringlets. I was hot. I was stunning. I was glowing from within.

'He' would drop to his knees and beg for my forgiveness if 'he' could see me right now. Of course, it would not be granted. I would press my heeled toes into 'his' shoulder and smirk down at 'him', drool would fall from 'his' chin as I turned my hips seductively to music that wasn't playing, and I'd kick 'him' backward and strut away.

God, 'he'd' be devastated.

At the pounding at my door, I quickly kissed the mirror and giggled to myself. No shit, I giggled. Who wouldn't? I was proud to be back. I'd suffered enough to get back to this.

"Coming!" I shouted, before grabbing my mini sequin purse off the side table. I planned on opening the door and leaning all seductively up against the side, peering up at them from beneath my thick neon-blue eyelashes.

But when I opened the door, nobody was there. My smile fell, and I stumbled awkwardly out of my lean.

"Hello? Waverly?" I stepped outside and looked on either side of the walkway. The apartment complex was completely deserted. The only light was across the street at the other complexes, where someone had left a night light on for someone when they finally got home. "Heath?" I asked.

I hadn't expected it to be so chilly, as if Winter was hovering over us, waiting to steal Autumn's place. I backed out of the doorway with one last look. I quickly slammed the door and locked it, waiting in front of it for a few seconds.

I walked back to my phone and dialed Waverly's number. Surely this was one of her drunken jokes, and she thought she was fucking hilarious. I rushed to tell her just how unfunny she was and how she'd reached a new low on the humor levels.

The phone rang. And rang. Until finally her voicemail answered for her and told me to leave a message after the beep. I hung up instead.

I knew then who it must be. 'He' was messing with me. 'He' was angry that I'd survived his assassination attempt and 'he' was back to finish the job. I grumbled to myself. I turned back to face the door and pulled my skirt down as I unlocked it.

"Féilim!" I shouted out into the black night, "You're not fooling me! And I certainly thought you were above going back on your word! Whatever happened to staying away forever?"

A hellish giggle answered from my couch. A woman's giggle. A giggle I'd never heard before. Not Waverly's.

I jumped back and hit the handle of the door with my elbow. I grasped it to my ribs with a painful moan and turned to the atrocious noise. The Lead, Shelly Fisher, was sat on my sofabed criss-crossed-apple-sauce with a cup of coffee on her knee. She took a sip, staring up at me with her six black bulbous fish-eyes, each of them blinking at different times.

I slammed the door and stared at her silently.

She gestured forward at my armchair as if inviting me to sit down. In my own home.

"What the hell are you doing? Who the hell do you think you are? How the hell did you get in here?"

"Ha!" She nearly choked on her gulp, she was so shocked at my questions, "I guess you didn't give him a chance to explain much, did you?"