Marietta (3)

“Dean dog face doesn’t want us to get too carried away thinking we’re people come on, we’re still slaves to the man. Get out of bed silly.” Charlotte tugged me out of bed and I plopped onto the floor, I looked up to see her makeup, hair, and outfit was all already done.

“When did you get up?” Her cheeks flushed a little and she avoiding eye contact she mumbled,

“I get up an hour earlier than everyone else everyday to get around.”

“What why?” she was so beautiful when we met, I didn’t understand why she felt the need to even touch her face in the mornings, she probably woke up flawless.

“I like to look my best you know, with my mom everyone expects so much out of me.”

“Wait, who is your mom?” She bit her lip like she didn’t want to tell me, she took a deep breath and let out a sigh.

“Amanda Crawford.”


Weeks went by and spring turn to summer, and summer slowly faded into fall. Nothing had changed between Charlotte and I, we were still the best of friends.

Wind was howling around me almost spinning. The air was cold and crisp and goosebumps crawled up my skin. I was alone amongst the tunneling clouds and grey skies. Suddenly a voice was behind me, whispering. “They will do the same thing to you,” it said sending chills up my spine, “They will do the same thing to you,” it repeated. I turned my torso, nobody was there.

“Hello?” I called. As I straightened back out there was a girl. Her long, straight, black hair blowing over her face. She wore the same dingy grey uniform we were given upon arrival, grabbing her head she dropped to her knees and started screeching.

Suddenly I sprung up, drenched in sweat. What was that? Who was that? I got out of bed and tiptoed into the bathroom without turning on the lights so I would not disturb Charlotte. My face was damp, eyes bloodshot, pupils dilated, if I did not know any better I could be mistaken for a hippy. I turned on the shower letting it heat up trying to come to grasps with that that was. It was just a bad dream I told myself, but it felt so real. I could feel the air burning my cheeks, the wind whipping in my eyes. It was just a dream. The shower was so hot it practically melted my skin off. Scrubbing the memories of the dream off with my epidermis my skin was raw. The water started to feel like ice pounding on my skin. “Kathryn? Are you in the shower already? You are never up this early.” I must have been in there for hours. Charlotte always wakes up with the sun, this way she has plenty of time to apply her makeup, fix her hair, and look perfectly primped to take on the day.

“I will be out in a minute.” The memory still resonated with me, who was the girl.

People say the people you see in your dreams are not just random people you have made up, they are people that you have seen throughout your day to day life. Memories of people’s faces you subconsciously remember. Storing them for later. Your mind can not just make up a face. When you truly think about it, it is terrifying. The strangers faces you make to think are going to murder you, take you, stalk you. Maybe not everyone has dreams like mine. Maybe some people think of their strangers faces as something beautiful, the people who save the day, the people who they marry. Random background characters without lines in the figment of your imagination. If you can not make faces, can you make voices, bodies? If you can not make faces of people, can you make up the faces of the monsters under your bed in the dreams you had as a little kid? Where does the limit end?

My dampened feet burn as they touch the ice cold ground. The combination of extreme heat and cool is something I have always despised. My sopping wet hair leaves a trail of water as I sling on a towel and open the door. Charlotte was still in her robe on the foot of her bed.

“ Bathroom is all yours.”’ She jumped a little, you could see how tired she was still drowsing off. Why did she get up this early everyday just to put on makeup? Her eyes lit up as they met mine shortly replaced,

“Kathryn are you alright?” She seemed legitimately concerned.

“Yeah, just had a bad dream; that is all,” I avoided eye contact. It was obvious she did not believe me but, she did not pry,

“Alright.” She left with a small bag of makeup and shut the door. I sat in my towel on my bed in a daze still thinking about the girl from the dream. Who was she? Before I could even get up my hair was dried Charlotte came out of the bathroom; she was beautiful without makeup, but the way the peach lip gloss made her teeth sparkle was mind blowing.

She waltzed around the room picking out an outfit. “You know normally I have to be so quiet doing this so I do not wake you up, it is nice having you up with me.” I have never in my life seen someone so happy before eight in the morning, it was astonishing.

“I will have to try that sometime,” I smirked. She held up outfit after outfit on her body, trying to see what one would look best, but all of them looked amazing. Settling on a box fit pink midi dress she dropped her rope exposing her naked backside to me. She was an angel.

“How does this look?” she turned around and I smiled.

“You are beautiful,” She smiled back. She primped her hair for another thirty minutes.

“You know what you should let me do?” Hesitantly I asked,

“What is that?

“Let me make you over. Not that your whole no makeup, not touched hair thing looks bad, I just want to see what I could do.” I pursed my lips with protest, “Please Kit?”

“Fine,” I exhaled. She sweaked in glee and ran to the bathroom to retrieve her makeup.

“Now I am a bit paler than you so my powder is not really going to match your skin so you will have to go without.”

“Oh how will I live? My life is over! I will be ugly forever!” I joked. She did not find it funny and began to poke my eye with small brushes. I tried my best to stay still and not flinch, but I did not succeed. Brushes poked my face for a good hour before she was done. I got up to look in the mirror and I was, beautiful.