Chapter Two
Lyla
As I walk into the hallway departing my room for the first time today, I run my fingers over the dark wood stain, noticing both how slick it is and how soft the grain is. It feels smooth, grit-free, and gentle to the touch.
When I walk into the living room, my younger sister Niya, also known as Small Lyla, looks up at me; she has the same short red hair we get from the man, our family refuses to discuss, and the same green eyes mom gives us. Niya is three years younger than me but only an inch shorter, and I'm quite tall for my seventeen-year-old self.
Niya is playing the Xbox as usual and she wears the same strawberry perfume as I do, but somehow she still smells sweeter.
Our younger brother Bradon, frequently known as Brades, is browsing the internet for what appear to be Star Wars Legos. He is the only one who has inherited our mother's freckles. It became a running joke in our family, we refer to him as "the little sunspot".
Mom looks to be nearly finished with her book she reads it on the couch. When she glances up at me because she hears my footsteps.
Her voice is soft as sunshine, "Hey there, baby girl, rise and shine."
I respond, “Hey, Momma." Sitting down, the couch seems to embrace me and the softness in the fabric is undeniably warm.
“Have you changed your mind about prom, Lyla girl?” She asks the question with a hopeful look in her bold green eyes.
My Mother is a woman of eternal curiosity and trying new things. She is adventurous.
“No Momma, I’m still not going.” It comes off a bit harsher than I meant but it’s too late to apologize now.
“Fine, Lyla, you do not have to go I just think you would have fun and you should make some new friends.” Her voice is still light but it has a stern aspect. Her beautiful eyes crinkle at the corners into a space between very soft and very happy.
A controller hurtles across the room and smashes into the wall. Niya and Bradon are yelling at each other. Both Mom and I turn to look at each other in disbelief, moms eyes are wide.
As soon as I see the anger in her eyes I don’t want to be out here anymore, I stand up from the couch that has pulled me into it and return to my bedroom.
My mom and I have a lot in common, we bond over novels, almost always horror stories or romance. Sometimes fantasy. We share a love of art and jazz music, too. We have a really tight relationship. We like to go on long walks where we gossip.
She is tougher and bolder than most of the majority of women I know. She wears a sweet smile, the kind that makes you feel safe and loved and sheltered from any kind of trouble. She is poised and smooth, filled with grace and a seeming ease in her movements. She enjoys wearing bold cosmetics and colors, and she openly flirts with male individuals who find her attention appealing Even as an adult with five children out of the five only three still live with her.
I tend to be a more reserved, stay-at-home introvert. Like, my sister, Audrey she doesn’t leave her home either but my oldest brother Gabriel is more like mom.
I wear looser, more muted clothing. I rarely ever wear cosmetics, and I have no interest in the boy type.
Therefore, if it were Mom, she would unquestionably attend the dance; however, given that it is me, I will stay in and read about murder instead of being in the horror of a social prom.
But it's not like the prom would be a horror story; it is just socializing, and I'm not interested that's scary enough.
I did hear someone might be planning to hurt someone tonight.
In any case, it's all a ruse.
Probably just trying to scare the juniors away so they don't ruin senior prom.
Only rumors.
Our prom would be nothing more than a stupid masquerade ball.
Even if I did want to leave home, Evelyn is the only person I would talk to.
I actually have friends, contrary to what my mother claims... well, one friend, but one is better than none.
On my bed, the iPhone in a blue case phone is buzzing. I look down at it, the words "Best friend Eveey" flash across the screen, and a picture of a girl with long, dark brown hair and the most stunning, blue eyes fill the screen. Speak of the devil.
I've known Evelyn for as long as I can recall. We grew up together. She is my closest friend and the one I confide in most. She is the person who understands me the best, and I have complete faith in her. She serves as my best supporter, confidante, and my biggest advocate.
I pick up the phone, "Hey, Eve, what's up?"
"Hey, Lyla!" Her voice is a polite soothing tone, a breath of fresh air on a cold winter day. "Not much, I was just wondering if you intended to come to the prom with me or not."
I hear her move around on her bed as she lets out a deep sigh before continuing, "I heard that there will be a murder tonight." There's another pause, "Would you like to accompany me?"
She knows I won't want to go, but enjoys tricking me into going to these events just for fun.
"Prom?" I say the word like it’s a question.
"Yeah, I heard someone might be trouble tonight, so it's probably best if we go together, you know."
"I heard the same thing, Eve, but we ought to remain at home." I recline on my bed, the comforter is soft as a cloud. My heart beats with each breath I take. The rain taps on my window outside.
The softness of her breath as she speaks is like a sigh of euphoria.
I picture how lovely my most beloved friend is going to look in her dress.
I was with her when she purchased it, but I'd love to see her in it again.
Evelyn is a good few feet shorter than me, but that doesn't matter because she has breathtakingly beautiful long, flowing brown hair. And the most stunning face I've ever seen, with beautiful, almost-grey, blue eyes. Her skin is tan and smooth.
The dress fits her perfectly. It is a pale silvery-yellow fabric, the kind that shimmers in the light. The bodice is tight, but the skirt is loose and flowy.
Evelyn exhales hard, and I can almost hear her roll her eyes over the phone line. "But, Lyla, it's senior prom. Senior prom is an unforgettable occasion."
"No, Evey, I'm staying in and reading about something far scarier than being an element of a lame senior prom."
She chuckles and adds, "Alright then, it's okay girl."
"Be careful, Evelyn. I love you, but I have to go because I need to call Navianna, who I haven't heard from despite her promise to text me at six." I say once more, "Stay safe. I love you. Don't let them aim to kill you."
She states, "I will and love you too, Lyele," and then hangs up.
I love her nickname for me it makes me smile every time.
I run my fingers through my short, unkempt ginger hair.
I wrote Navianna a quick text message. Hey, it's 6:13 and you still haven't contacted me, usually when you say you wanna talk you contact me right at the exact time you say you are going to, how are you doing?
I press the "send" button and the text is read in less than two minutes.
I waited for her reply, watching my phone with anxious eyes. When there was no response after a few moments, I dial her number.
There is a message stating that my call cannot be delivered.
So I text again, but each time gets an error. After 7 tries, 5 different messages, and two calls with the same errors occurring, I stop.
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