Status: Finished! Thank you so much for reading!

Won't Turn Out Right

Chapter 1

My dreams start tired and dark. But, before you know it... before I know it they're magic. Coming in bursts are pictures of insanity. Colorful, quick, and inexplicable.

Here we go.

I tripped over my trunk because the mouse scared me. I'm an elephant and big and bumbling. The ringmaster found my secret stash of peanuts and took them from me. He's out to get me. He wants my ears so he can fly. He's always been selfish. His hat is fat. I don't like his pants.

The floors move when you're not looking. They're big spirals where we can dance and the clowns can trip over their stupid shoes. I hate their shoes. Never trust a clown with black lips and a jagged smile. The sky is a tent, folded over in layers, red as blood, bright as the sun, dark as the pit of my stomach.

Because I've seen what they look like, becoming perfect.... No, I lied. That's not true. I'm a liar if I've ever seen one. I stole it. I want my peanuts.

But, back to my ears and long nose. No. Back to the ringmaster.

I've never seen his eyes, but he's ugly and gorgeous like a high school romance. You know it's not going anywhere so why bother? But, he makes you want to try. Makes you want to cry.

Vampires are allergic to garlic? Ah... choo. Do they bleed? Have they ever fallen off a unicycle and scraped their knees? Stubbed their toe on the ringmaster's iron boot? Das boot. Your mom.

The demons are downstairs, but I'm not sure how they got in. Their hands aren't even stamped. They must have snuck under the curtains, those madmen.

Put on your rose-colored glasses.

Everything hurts. Even my throat is dry and scratchy. My legs feel like jelly, and my arms... I can't feel them. Are they gone? I must have slept on them funny. My feet feel kind of tingly, too.

I let my eyes open slowly to adjust to the light. Oh, never mind. It's pitch black. In times like this, one must ask herself...

"What the fuck did I do last night?" I sat up, but felt a little frustrated when I still couldn't move my arms. I gave up and sat there for a good five minutes. "Hello?" I sang out through my scratchy voice. "Is someone there? I seem to be in need of some sort of assistance."

Pipes banged and floorboards creaked above my head. That's when I realized how cold the ground was. It felt like solid cement. The air was musty and cold, too. I was in the basement. I lifted my arms again to try and get some blood circulating, but they remained pressed tightly to my sides. I groaned in horror as I realized any attempt at movement was futile.

There was a loud bang upstairs and the room flooded with light. I jumped, and glanced up at the shiny culprit standing in the doorway at the top of the stairs. I frowned when I realized that I had absolutely no idea who he was.

"Hey, buddy, can you help me?" The man gave me a sloppy smile, and descended the steps making sure to hold on to the railing tightly. He got closer, and I realized how much he smelt like alcohol. I wrinkled my nose with a sigh and looked away. I glanced down at my now illuminated body, and noticed that both my arms and ankles were wrapped tightly in duct tape.

Well shit.

"Werll, sure I can help you, darling. Ju-" He burped loudly, and I frowned even more. "Just give me a sec." He held up a finger, and cleared his throat. He looked at me and nodded in all seriousness, but couldn't hold it. He broke out into a fit of laughter and I sighed again in exasperation. The light was giving me a migraine, and my arms were completely numb still. My throat burned, and I tried to clear it, but only made the pain worse.

"I need help, please." I started to sound whiny, upset, scared. I thought I handled it pretty well...

I was a naive little girl. Very much so, in fact. You really can't blame me, though. It's just that I've never really been exposed to any of the sorts of evil in the world like drugs, death, hot pants, etc. My parents tried their hardest to shield me from the world, and in their treachery, created a sadistic, naive simpleton still living with her parents at age twenty-two. Blame them, damn it. Hate them for all it's worth, because that's all I certainly ever do.

Ironically, though, there is no place I'd rather be more right now than sitting in the sterile dining room at the beautiful, shiny wooden dinner table playing Monopoly or Sorry for our weekly Saturday game night being fed a hearty dinner of mashed potatoes, baked potatoes, and French fries. Does anyone else's mother do that, or is it just mine?

"Jimmy, is she awake?" There was another voice at the top of the staircase, and Jimmy stopped laughing. He shook his head at the voice.

"No, she's not." I raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, dude?" He looked back at me.

"Oh!" He looked surprised to see me. "Yes, she is!" The voice sighed.

"You have your mask off, don't you?" Jimmy rolled his eyes and let out a huffy breath.

"What, do you think I'm stupid? Of course it's on." He pulled his red bandana up from around his neck and tied it around his mouth and nose. He leaned down and whispered, "Don't tell Matty." He giggled and I smiled weakly to humor him.

"Your secret is safe. Now help me."

Someone stood in the doorway and I struggled a bit against the tape. The other man, who I could only assume was 'Matty', had rushed down the stairs and lifted me up with little to no effort. He stood me on my feet but I didn't stay that way for much longer. He grabbed onto the front of the duct tape binding and dragged me quickly. My feet were still bound together, though, so I couldn't walk. I fell forward and he kept dragging me. I tried to struggle to make it as hard as possible for him, but he didn't seem to pay any mind at all. My chin came in contact with the wooden steps a couple of times making me groan in discomfort. Jimmy giggled more making me angry.

"Stop it! Leave me alone!" Matty snorted and the black bandana that was covering his mouth moved a bit.

"No." We got to the top of the steps and he shoved me to the ground. He unwound the tape quickly from around my ankles, still leaving my arms useless. "Get up." I rolled my eyes, but stood up awkwardly without my hands.

"You couldn't have done that bef-" He backhanded me making me cry out in pain. He grabbed onto the tape around my arms and dragged me again.

"'You couldn't have done that before?' Blah wah wah. Stupid bitch." He mocked me, and I had to hold back tears that stung my eyes. My cheek hurt like a mother and I was unable to sooth it. I could tell that my chin was probably all scratched up, too.

"You're so angry, Matt. You've gotta chill." Matt ignored Jimmy, and dragged me into the living room. It was a mess. A complete terror. Mostly everything was missing, and the stuff still left was scattered about in heaps. They completely robbed us. He shoved me over to the wall, and stuck my face next to a painting, holding my neck good and tight. He flipped the painting off the wall. He found my parents' safe.

"What's the combination?" I remained silent. He growled and slammed my head against the cold metal. My temple was struck by the handle, and I started to see stars. "Need another memory-jog? What's the combination?" I groaned in pain.

"I-I really don't know." He threw me to the floor and I screamed. He kicked me twice in the stomach, and I heard Jimmy laughing again.

"You're such a hard-ass, Matt." Matt stopped, and sighed in frustration.

"Go get Gates, please, Rev." I heard Jimmy run upstairs to the second floor, and Matt turned back to me with an evil glint in his eyes. I whimpered and shook my head.

"P-please." He took my shoulders and hoisted me up onto the couch which actually had some seat cushions missing. He turned around and sat in the arm chair to my left.

"What do you want?" I heard a chilling voice ring from behind the couch. It was the man from before. Before before. I gritted my teeth, and turned around to face him. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses anymore, but he had a dark green bandana over his mouth. His brown eyes appeared black. He caught me staring and he looked at me and I could tell he was smirking by the glint that came to his eyes. "Hey, babe."
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Italics are always thoughts or dreams!

This is my first story on Mibba. I started writing it in early July, and I promised myself that I wouldn't post it until I had atleast 10 chapters written. Each chapter is going to be atleast 900 words, sometimes over 1000 : )

Starting my senior year this Thursday! AH! Super scary!

Once again, thanks for reading!