mimickme

mimickme t1_itco4f6 wrote

Deep breaths, deep breaths. Joanne took another peek at her daughter. The innocent girl who wore a darling yellow sunflower dress along with a pair of dainty sandals they'd bought her for her first vacation. Her auburn hair swayed in the wind, freshly cut just above her shoulders, adorned with a blue ribbon. That same daunting digit hovered a few inches on top of her head, coloured in a gruesome red.

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Joanne felt her legs begin to quiver but drew upon that self same courage she'd developed over her teenage years. The worse she'd felt had been seeing a man with double digits order a burger from the Wendy's she worked at. She hadn't managed to keep herself together but was young enough at the time that it could've easily been chalked up to a teenager's nerves at their first job. She had spent what seemed like an eternity after that locked inside her room.

"Mommy?" Elizabeth asked.

Joanne snapped out of her trance, years of practice slid on like a mask, donning a smooth composure as she replied, "Just looking at my cute darling. Where should we go for lunch?"

Her daughter replied with something and a sort of second persona continued to play the role of Joanne. They paced towards Victor road, no doubt aiming for a spot of burgers and ice cream at a local fast food. Meanwhile Joanne's mind retreated into herself, seeking any plausible explanation she could find for her daughter's sudden change.

Between yesterday and now there had been twelve...maybe fourteen hours when her daughter had left her. A simple sleepover at Terisa's house. Nothing had seemed of any bother when Terisa's mother answered the door, followed by Terisa herself and then finally, Elizabeth tailing at the end. No screams, no horrors, no police, no midnight calls. Nothing except the scarlet marking that Joanne had relied upon her entire life.

Two impossible realities began to clash with each other in her mind, either her five year old daughter had managed to kill someone in the middle of night, with none the wiser or maybe Joanne had really just been on the edge of insanity for all these years, picturing some non-existent numeric floating on top of people's heads that counted the individuals they'd killed. The more she compared those options to herself the more she found solace in her head.

But... her mind whispered.

And it was a sizable 'but'. The most telling experiments she'd run in those teenage years had been following streaks of murderers / rapists / car chases on television. Cross checking the kill counts she saw against what the police would eventually uncover. The most chilling confirmation had been when a little town's butcher had been found guilty of five murders but she'd seen three times that number. The extra deaths were later confirmed in a manner that terrified anyone who heard the news. Though they came as little surprise to Joanne who had known the facts, there were only so many ways to hide a body if you knew how many there were.

"Is it not yummy?" Her daughter asked her as she rejoined reality. "Would you like some of mine?"

Ice cream. Caramel ice cream. Joanne confirmed looking at her own cone, the sticky sugar almost gagged her mouth and induced a momentary panic. She hated all things caramel.

"It's fine," she said, "How was your sleepover with Terisa?"

"It was ok," Elizabeth replied, her eyes sparkling, "We played house, and helped Mrs. Greyf make cookies and...Oh! We played video games with her brother"

"Sounds like fun"

And very normal, that was good.

The conversation continued over the hideous caramel ice cream. Joanne pried gently for details here and there, piecing together the missing hours as best as she could. Nothing seemed off in the slightest. Maybe she could be wrong. After all, she'd only ever confirmed her powers with serial killers and criminals on television. She couldn't very well walk to a random passerby in the city and ask whether they'd lopped off two or three heads over the years.

The human brain liked the answers that it wanted. And as she filled in more of the gaps of her daughter's evening she found she could relax a bit more. She was wrong, her powers could be wrong, her daughter was fine.

And then the 1 became a 2

She choked on the remainder of her ice cream and coughed. Chips of half chewed waffles spewed into the air, and somewhere in the background was the yelp of disgust as saliva and food landed on her daughter's face.

Joanne had less than half a mind to care though. She spun about, scouring everything in their surroundings. The closest individual to them was a solid twenty paces away and he was well and alive, ordering his second serving of fries. No one had dropped dead anywhere within sight.

Exhaustion and exhilaration caught up to her simultaneously as Joanne collapsed back to her seat, to the bewilderment of anyone close enough to see, including her own daughter.

But that was fine, she was wrong, her powers could be wrong, that was a relief beyond all else.

"Mom, what the heck," her daughter shouted, her hands swiping at her face, trying to wipe off the dots of brown and white. Joanne found some cheer in her heart as she chuckled gently, "Sorry sorry, I choked on the ice cream. Here let me help you with that."

She spent the next minute wiping clean her daughter's face. The crimson number above her daughter's head seemed to blur into the void. Some semblance of normalcy was restored back to her life and maybe even improved. Now she knew she could ignore what she saw. It could be right, but it could be wrong, and for her sweet darling precious daughter, it was wrong.

And then her phone rang. The white bold text spelled out Linda Greyf, Terisa's mother.

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