Dark Perceptions (Mystic's Carnival Collective) by Debra Kristi Page A

caressing the sides of my face, his breath heating my skin. “If that’s what you really want.”  
    “You’re not mad are you?”  
    “Why should I be?” His lips twitched, curving into a smile. “I still have you. You’re the only fix I need.”
    “Lame,” I whispered.
    “Yeah, but you liked it.” His forehead pressed against mine, bringing his lips excruciatingly close. I wanted to kiss him with every cell in my body, and yet ― if relationships were doomed to end in destruction worthy of an apocalypse, why purposely put my heart through the pain?
    My hands trembled as I traced his arms up to his hands. I didn’t pull away, nor did I advance. I remained still on the point of indecision.  
    His lips grazed across the top of mine ever so lightly, inciting an eruption of chills all over my body. I ached for him. And I ached to pull away from him. Run away from him and every relationship that could ever hurt me.
    A thump rang through the peaceful night, then a bump, and another bump. A car with its radio beating at a deafening volume pulled up and parked several car lengths away. The couple inside ignored us, but continued to serenade every living creature within a half mile.  
    Matt studied the new arrival with a squint to the eye. He looked back at me. “Time to go?” I nodded and pulled the blanket off the ground, wrapping it around myself. “Okay,” he said, then held my hand and walked me to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for me.  
    After he slipped in behind the wheel and started the engine, he paused, shifting to look at me. “Don’t let your parents’ breakup define you, Sara. It’s not like divorce is genetic.”
    I stared at my hands for a moment before responding. “Working on it,” I said, and lowered my head.  
    The night was lit bright by nothing more than the full moon and the car headlights. The road was quiet, surrounded by endless acres of undeveloped land. A solo truck rambled by, kicking more dust into the air. Matt waited until the vehicle was a good distance past us, then pulled out onto the pavement, leaving the screech of metal music behind.

I sat perfectly still with my eyes closed and hands laid out flat in my lap. The darkness was all consuming. Not a single ray of sunshine penetrated the barrier my eyelids provided. I expected to hear my teacher scold, “Pay attention, Ms. Fairchild!”
    Except, I knew I wasn’t in class. The smell of greasy popcorn and overcooked hotdogs was all wrong for a day at school. The whispers weren’t right, either. No, I was having one of those stressed-out daydreams. Like when you envisioned yourself showing up late the first day of school with no books and no idea where to go. Or when you saw yourself walking into class naked. I hated that one in particular. Everyone always laughed and stared, making me feel more insecure in my skin than I already did.
    God, school could be so brutal. Thankfully I wasn’t there now. I was…
    I was…
    I was where, exactly?
    Light flickered across my lids, flittering through, turning them a burnt red. I bowed my head.
    Where was I? I couldn’t remember. Blinking the sleep away, I opened my eyes in search of the answer.
    The hem of my dress was frayed. Damn. Rubbing the edge between my finger and thumb, I tried to place the cause. Mom wasn’t going to be happy. I’d broken her down with a battle assault of beggage and this was my first time to wear the new dress. Her disappointed face already burned an imprint into my thoughts.
    A sound rose all around me and I realized I wasn’t alone. Not only was I not alone, but I could easily be lost in the crowd of God-knows-how-many-hundreds around me. Yet I recognized none of them. No family. No Matt. The people chuckled and whistled at something below. Something center stage. I peered down.
    My breath leaped back into my throat and my heart paused.
    Clowns.
    My last meal churned.
    Spotlights left, right, center, everywhere illuminated. And