FREAK SHOW

Chapter 25: Spiral

WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER

~"It always comes back to you, boils, circles, itches, its way back to you."~milk and honey

Charlie felt every muscle in his body shaking. Positively quaking, small in comparison to how the earth underneath him seemed to quiver. He soon realized it was because he was falling, his legs were too weak to support him, and he was forced to lean against the wall- but didn't want to touch the wall considering Noah's body had toppled over it only minutes before-, so he shifted to the floor. His stomach churned like it was being pulled inside out. He lay there, breathing hard; no air was reaching his lungs.

His perfect solution to that was to root his hand into his pocket and fish out a cigarette from his pack. He shakily put it into his mouth and lit it, taking the nicotine in as if it was going to bring Noah back to life. Charlie sat up, exhaling the smoke, taking a look around to see if anyone could see him on the black bridge.

No one was around him...but it felt like he was being watched. Paranoia was settling in; had anyone seen him do it? Was he to be punished? What was he going to do? Noah's body was currently drifting down the river or caught in some rocks for outsiders to see, right as he was sitting there.

Standing up, feeling weak in the knees, Charlie took another drag and threw it in the river. He stood there for a moment after, in hesitance, knowing what he was about to do was something he would forever hate himself for. He already hated himself.

Charlie felt like screaming with each step he took forward to his destination. Each step against the cobblestone of the black bridge seemed to create a resounding echo, one with finality. He clenched his fists to the point they turned ghostly white and cracked under the pressure, then releasing with fingers spread wide apart, bringing color back to his skin.

It was all over after this. He might as well slice open his neck this time with his razor, because even if she were back, she would leave permanently if she ever found out about this. It would be hard to find anything sharp, considering after his attempt, any pointy and possibly deadly object was stripped away from him and his vicinity, in fear he would try again. Why were they still keeping him here?

He was at the door now. Seeing the familiar maroon caravan door in front of him, was almost like staring into his fathers eyes. A violent shutter chased the nerves down his spine. He let his scarred and rough hands rub every inch of his face, scrubbing at the skin like it would undo what had happened on that bridge. His fingers scratched and itched to remove the skin on the face of a killer, trying desperately to remove the sensation of death upon his face.

He didn't like Noah, but he most certainly didn't want him to die. Nor did he want to kill him.

And Scarlett. Scarlett would never forgive him. Noah, who Charlie had to come to terms with..was what she considered her only friend in this place, and he was dead and mangled in a river because of him.

He was disgusted with himself. A dark red film covered his vision. This feeling...was like a breathing and living creature growing off of him, within the cranny of his ribs, crushing any free space inside him. Guilt. Hatred. Disgust.

He could practically feel his heart getting a little bit blacker.

Charlie took a shaky inhale as he burned his eyes into the red door in front of him. He shifted his feet a little, bracing himself, and then knocked on the door. The door seemed to burn into the skin on his hand as he knocked, like the devil was marking him through the wood on the door.