A Rose Painted Black || The Distortionist x Reader

⊱ ──.⋅Epilogue⋅.── ⊰

Belgium
16 August

My parents most likely sent me so far away because they didn't want to see my pathetic demeanor. To make me feel better they said they'd reside in the summer residence a while longer so that we could be 'closer'. They'd likely go back to the states soon.

Outside of the building, Miss Bennett, our instructor leads a game of croquet amongst the garden with large bur oak trees that provided the area with shade. The other girls were enjoying the game, but I only stared and wished for this to be over. I could've been doing something, like finding ways to track down the carnival's whereabouts. I didn't feel fully present in the moment when I was anxious and missed Chris dearly. I just wanted to know where they all were.

I suppose I've turned into somewhat of a pariah here. Though, that really must be because I made no effort to make friends or speak with the other girls. It was actually the girls' college the Marshall sisters go to, or the younger one now, but we only did the polite thing, said hello and made each other's presence feel valid, but that was it. After making friends with carnies who had varying talents and looks, the stories that these girls told bore me and everything was commonplace. Even with the rude people, here a group of four girls who did nothing but gossip about the others all day...

The days here mostly consisted of etiquette, basic academics, and occasionally some other form of activity, this time being croquet. I watch two girls play, and when I look up Ms. Bennett meets my eyes. Oh no, I think. She looks at me as if I were a piteous little thing.

"Miss (L/n), would you like a turn?" She speaks softly and looks at me as if were distressed.

I don't want a turn. I keep silent and step up from behind the group of girls. I lower the mallet I had forgotten I was holding. I try concentrating, but the four noisy girls won't stop their talking.

They stay quiet for a few seconds, and I take the opportunity to hit the ball. I do, but one of their loud laughs startle me, and the ball misses the wicket.

I turn back to the group of girls. "For goodness sakes! Do any of you ever shut your mouths!" I snap.

The girls gasp, and an even louder gasp escaped Miss Bennett, holding a hand to her chest, quickly lowering it to her hip. "Miss (L/n)! What an improper tone and usage of words!"

I want to scream in frustration.

"What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?" I only glare at her and at the girls. My grip on the mallet tightens, but I only do that so I won't say something even worse. "Head on to your room, Miss (L/n)! You will have no luncheon!"

I drop the mallet, quickly and eagerly leaving. I didn't want to play this game, anyway.

I calm down by the time I get inside, and pass through the hallway, passing a side table with the newspaper I've been trying to avoid as much as possible. But I don't skip it this time, bringing it with me up the double staircase and into the room I shared with three other girls.

I sit on the window seat, looking down and watching the occasional buggy passing by. I pull out the paper, raising it up, my eyes immediately catching on the headline.

A RAGING FUNHOUSE!
———————

Apprise On The Carnival Fire Taken Place The 30th Of July

I kept reading.

The fire has by now been given its name "Funhouse Fire", given by few of the guests who had been there that day. The authorities had been in an inquiry of what could have caused such a fire, but they have since closed the investigation. Now after an explanation of the funhouse itself which had malfunctioned.

It went on saying a few more details I already knew. I skimmed the paper, finding something and stopping to properly read it.

Three adolescents were trapped in this fire.

My head sprang up. Three? Who else was there? I looked back down quickly.

One of an unrecorded name, Christopher Pierre, and Shirley Lysestage. The named ones, being carnival workers. Lysestage, the one whose initial death was confirmed after the fire, who had somehow been unable to escape, unlike the others. There had been no other news of the other two adolescents. Then, unlooked-for, an inspector searching the nearby Greenwood by where the carnival was held came across a deceased body, the body of the young man Christopher Pierre who had been one of the adolescents trapped in the fire hitherto.