Sarah stood in front of her mirror. The black lipstick that Zoe made her put on made her look even more like a freak. "Ugh," she grunted. "Why is this happening to me?"
There was a knock, startling her. "Dinner's here," her little sister Melony said.
Sarah was hesitant to leave her room dressed like that. And besides the fact that she hated her clothes, she also didn't want to have dinner with her family again. It was bad enough the first time, when she wasn't dressed like a vampire-wannabe. But she ended up going anyway. She had to eat.
That night's meal felt more like a funeral. No one made any conversation, like they usually did. Her father was cold, her mother was silent, and Melony? She was actually about the same as before, maybe a little more reserved.
They had chicken. Sarah hated chicken. It was so greasy. But her mother insisted that it was her favorite. If she kept eating foods like these, she'd eventually become a fat cow. At least, that's what she thought.
After finishing the first piece, she asked if she could leave the table. But her father glared at her. "Eat," he said. It was an order.
She sighed and picked another piece of chicken out of the bucket. This one, she just nibbled on.
The silence was unbearable. Sarah shouted in her mind Someone say something! But no one did. At least not until a few minutes later when her little sister broke the silence to say that she painted a duck at school that day. Her mom looked at her and smiled. But when she looked back at Sarah, her smile faded away and she looked off in another direction, as if she couldn't even bare to look at her own daughter.
When Sarah was done with her second piece, she asked again if she could be excused. Her father grunted, but said it would be okay, so Sarah left the table.
After she turned the corner to go upstairs, she heard someone pound the table. Then her father spoke. "I've had about enough of her."
"Please, not now," her mom said.
"If someone doesn't fix her, then I'm going to."
Sarah leaned against the wall, as her eyes widened. What did he mean by that?
Tiffany sat on her bed, looking across the room at the witchcraft books on her bookshelf. She was still trying to cope with the fact that she really was a witch. Up until a few hours ago, she didn't even believe magic actually existed!
She wondered why her dad hadn't come home yet. And where was her mom? She assumed that she was out shopping, but she didn't leave a note or anything.
Tiffany left her room and walked into the family room. No one there. And there was no one in the kitchen either. Or the living room. It seemed like she was alone, until she heard something. Was it a TV? It was barely audible, but she followed the sound anyway. She ended up in the basement. Not long ago, her dad turned the basement into an "entertainment" room, with a TV and pool table. The TV was on, set on a sports network. She went over to it to turn it off, when she was suddenly startled by a noise. Her head turned and she saw her father, lying on the couch.
"Daddy?" she asked.
Her father coughed, then opened his eyes. "Hi ya, there, dear," he said, with a slurred voice. She bent down and grabbed a bottle from his hand.
"Hey! Gimme back," he said.
It was beer. Her father had been drinking.
"Daddy? Have you been here all day?"
"Of course, I have," he answered, still with a slurred voice.
"Where's mom?"
"I dunno. Working?"
"Mom doesn't work." Her dad was the one that worked, and her mom stayed at home.
"Of course, she dusss, honey," he said. "She wants to get away."
"Away? Away from what?"
"From you ..." he trailed off and then fell unconscious.
"Daddy?" she asked, shaking him. But all he did was snore.
Upstairs, she heard the front door close, so she ran up to see who was there. It was her mom, dressed in a professional business suit, something Tiffany had never seen her wear before.
"Hello?"
Her mother turned towards her and said "Oh. It's you."
"Daddy's drunk."
"When is he not?" She paused for a moment, then said "Did you just call him daddy?"
Apparently, in this reality, she didn't.
"When's dinner gonna be?" Tiffany asked, changing the subject.
Her mom walked towards her, then past her, saying "Make it yourself."
Tiffany just stood there. Her dad was a drunk and her mom hated her? What had happened to her family?
Melissa looked at herself in the mirror. Before Zelda left, she showed Melissa all the different colors of make-up she had. Blue, black, green, even silver. And now Melissa was wearing blue lipstick and blue eyeshadow. It was just all too weird.
Suddenly, she heard her doorbell ring and went to answer it. Her parents were on a cruise in the Bahamas, which was lucky for her, since she didn't want to deal with them and her current lifestyle change.
She opened the door, expecting to see Sarah or Tiffany or Jessica, but instead it was a girl she didn't know. She was wearing a bright red latex body suit and black buckled boots with three-inch stacks. On her lips was sparkly red lipstick and she wore red eyeshadow. Her hair was just as bizarre as Melissa's, maybe even more so. All of her hair had been shaved off except for what looked like a knotted red-dyed ponytail. But instead of going down in the back, the ponytail came down across the right side of her face.
"Are you ready to go?" she asked.
"Go where?" She was about to ask who she was, but thought it would be better if she didn't.
"To the club. Come on," she said, pulling Melissa with her. Melissa closed the door behind her and got pulled down to a car parked on the side of the street.
"Get in," the strange girl said. And Melissa did. Zelda had told her about the club. But she didn't think she'd be going so soon. Really, she didn't want anything to do with it, but she agreed to give this new lifestyle a try.
As they rode to the club, Melissa looked over at the strange girl quite a few times. She already felt silly wearing her latex body suit in her bedroom, behind closed doors, but now she was even more embarrassed. But then again, the girl taking her to the club looked as bizarre as her and she didn't seem embarrassed in the slightest.
"Why do you keep looking at me?" she asked.
"I like your outfit?"
The girl smiled, and kept driving.
The girl drove her car to a warehouse-looking building on the outskirts of town. Blue neon lights outlined the building's edges.
"We're here," she said, getting out. Melissa followed her and as they walked up to the building, she could already feel the thumping beat of the music.
After they walked inside, Melissa took a look around. It was crowded. Very crowded. Although, the room wasn't really big. There was a dance floor, where at least two dozen people were currently dancing, there were tables filled with laughing customers, and a bar. Neon lights lit up the room. And all the people looked like her, in general. Latex, vinyl, weird hairstyles dyed in different colors. It was all really weird.
"Melissa, come on," the girl who drove her there said. She followed her through the crowd and they sat at the bar. The music was so loud. And that beat was so pounding. Thump, thump, thump, thump. There was so much commotion, it was hard to focus.
"Come on, let's dance," the girl said.
"Uh, I don't dance," Melissa said.
"Yeah, right. You love dancing. Come on," she said, pulling Melissa out onto the dance floor. But Melissa just stood there. "What's wrong with you, girl? Dance."
She looked around at all the moving bodies. That and the flashing lights over the dance floor made it hard to concentrate. But she watched how the other dancers were moving and she mimicked them as best she could.
"That's more like it," the girl shouted over the music.
What Melissa was unaware of was that at this particular club, the owners pumped a gas into the air. It was harmless, but it caused a sort of ethereal state of mind when people danced. Something to do with adrenaline being produced. And as Melissa entered her third minute of dancing, it hit her. Suddenly, it seemed as though all the dancers were actually moving to the beat of the music. Like one great organism. She could feel the beat guiding her as she moved her body. There was no more confusion or sense of commotion. Everything was perfect and flowing. Suddenly, she felt perfect there. And she felt like she could stay there forever.
After one hour of non-stop dancing, however, she stumbled off the dance floor and into a nearby chair. She was exhausted.
The girl in the red latex suit sat at the chair across from her. "That was fun, wasn't it?" she asked Melissa.
"Yeah," she answered back, a little out of breath.
A waitress came by and asked if they wanted drinks. The girl in red ordered something, but Melissa wasn't paying any attention. Her eyes were locked on the dancers. It was like a rainbow dancing across the lake. The melodious music continued to blast over the speakers. Thump, thump, thump, thump.
"Melissa?" the girl in red said, breaking her out of her trance.
"Huh?"
"Did you want something to drink?"
"Uh ..." She didn't know what to order. "I'll have what you're having."
The girl turned to the waitress. "Make it two then."
A minute later, their drinks came. It was a blue liquid in a beaker-type glass. Thinking it was blue berry-flavored, Melissa took a big gulp. She nearly choked on it. "Is this alcohol?"
"Well, yeah," she answered, as if it was obvious. The girl leaned forward. "What's up with you tonight? You've been acting weird ever since I picked you up at your house."
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Melissa, it's me. Wendi. I'm your friend."
"No, really. You wouldn't believe me." Suddenly, a dizzy spell hit her and her head hit the table before she even knew what hit her.
When she woke up again, she was in Wendi's car. "Where am I?"
"Wow. I've never seen you pass out like that before."
Melissa looked out the window and saw that she was in her neighborhood. "You're taking me home?"
"That's right. Listen, girl. You really need some sleep. You can barely even stand. I had to practically carry you out of the club."
When they got to Melissa's house, Wendi parked the car on the street. Melissa opened the door and stumbled out.
"You need me to help?" Wendi asked.
"No. I got it." She walked up to her house, used a hidden key to get in, and watched her new friend drive off down the street.
Amber opened her window and lit up a cigarette. She really was addicted to these things. And she was almost out, meaning sometime she'd have to go get more.
She apparently didn't have a problem with breathing smoke-filled air, so the open window wasn't for her. She didn't know if her parents (who she didn't see the previous night) knew about her smoking habit or not and she wanted to be careful.
A few minutes later, she heard the front door slam. She immediately put out her cigarette and left her room to see who it was.
"Dad?" she asked. "Where's mom?"
Her father turned and glared at her. Then he rushed her and punched her in the face, giving her bloody lip. "Don't you ever mention her again!"
She looked up at him, on the verge of tears, then got up and ran back to her room.
"Don't be going out with your damn friends, bitch!" he yelled at her.
She ran into her room and slammed the door, jumped onto her bed and cried herself to sleep. Her father was never abusive. But in this new life, he was. Was Sabrina's life like this? Maybe that's why she turned against the world.
Jessica stood in front of her mirror. "Uck, black lipstick." She hated black, but black was all she was going to get. Her skin wasn't even pinkish. It was so pale, it was almost white.
From her bedroom, she heard her front door open, then close. Someone was home. She went to see who.
When she entered the living room, she saw her mom sitting on the sofa.
"Mom? Are you okay?" She looked around the room. "Where's dad?"
Her mom looked up. "Don't joke," she said. It looked like she was gonna cry.
"Mom, what is it? Where's dad?"
"Jessica, your father is dead, remember?"
"Dead? What are you talking about? I just saw him a few days ago."
"He died in the crash. You really don't remember?"
Her mom explained the situation, as much as it pained her to do so. Four months ago Jessica and her father were fighting in the car and he got distracted. Another car ran a red light and hit them straight on. Jessica had a few scrapes and bruises, but her father died instantly. The thing was, Jessica remembered that situation. But it turned out differently. Her father and her weren't fighting and he saw the guy running the red light and stopped, avoiding a crash. The guy that ran the red light swerved and hit a light post. There were no deaths.
Suddenly Jessica felt sick. This gothic lifestyle had completely changed her past. How was she going to go on without her dad?
She saw that her mom began to cry, so she sat down and put her arm around her.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Comforting you."
"Since when?"
