Small World

;note! this story contains drug use, insecurity, self-deprecation, mental and physical health problems. please do not read if these topics offend you.

this story is not meant to offend anyone or humor any sort of situation. It is fictional, but based off of personal issues.

sid wilson is the only real person featured in this story. the rest are original characters.

this is a three part story.

October 31, 1988.

The still air carried the scent of damp leaves and rainfall. Footsteps echoed across the damp asphalt and cracked sidewalks, each step resonating in the still night.

A pang of nostalgia hit Sigrid, memories of her childhood bubbling up with every familiar scent. This neighborhood was one she had lived in for all 16 years of her life. She loved Los Angeles, but there was only so much one could take.

Halloween-lovers and rejects littered their local neighborhoods and districts with a purpose. Many wore bedsheets with off-brand sneakers while others opted for celebrities and characters. Like every year, there was one haunted house or partying spot that bested the rest. It was Sigrid’s first time hearing about the party on Bear Avenue, a street that resided in the sketchy area of town. The house was known to be the craziest and chaotic one yet and an invitation for local musicians to let off some steam.

Sigrid always went out with her older brother Nathan, and Halloween was no exception. They spent the time going from house-to-house each year, something Sigrid enjoyed all the way up until she was 13. She had matured then, and she was craving a release more than anything.

She had never gone to a party. Partying was forbidden by her parents and by her brother. A party meant endless possibilities, possibilities they could not have happening to her. She didn’t argue, but she felt anguish for not being out there with the girls her age.

Maybe if I went out, the girls at my school would actually like me.

She was a misfit. Her health conditions showed and earned her plenty of teasing. Against the prissy pink girls and sporty jock boys, she stood no chance. She was thinner than all of them and she didn’t like pink. She didn’t drink or smoke or do things that were maybe meant for adults. She wasn’t athletic.

She knew Nathan only wanted to protect her, but she couldn’t bear the embarrassment and shame she felt of not meeting anyone’s standards and her own. She needed this more than anything.

Nathan was her big brother and senior. She had raised the love child of two religious saints since she was five. He was also a huge mother hen, which made her wonder if he was really her brother.

They were both raised beneath a brooding mother and father who did not accept anything other than religion. Any form of black was forbidden and Rock earned punishment. They lived like traditionalists. All colors and schedules. They were small-towners at that time, but Nathan had cracked the code. He played by their rules but left whenever they weren’t looking. In his world, he was able to let self-expression slip in.

Sigrid had gone under his wing soon after. The world of rock let her express herself in ways that no one else understood, because no one did understand. She didn’t belong in school, but she did belong in this world.

She stood in front of her mirror now, fixing the over-accessorized belt on her black denim mini-skirt. Black stockings clung to her legs underneath the skirt, and Doc Marten boots were snug against her feet. A black see-through sleeve shirt with a flower design engraved into it covered her torso and arms. Plenty of necklaces covered her neck and dropped to her chest, and black star earrings hung from the two holes that were poked into her ears.

Her bedroom was a galore of art. Photography and posters adorned her post-plain walls, each a contrasting color and picture. Her queen-sized bed sat in the midst of it, making everything seem like a feverish dream. A singular black dresser sat against one of the walls, storing CDs and whatever else she could think of.

She messed with the holes of her belt before turning to the door and hurrying out. Her boots clomped down the hallway with a purpose.

The brunette leaned over the railing that showcased part of the downstairs area and stared at the older brunette, her brother. He was focused on something, his head downward and his long hair brushed against his eyes. She stared at him and took in his features.

He was currently wearing a gray university sweater with a white base layer beneath it. His hair was a light brown color that cascaded down his back. Supporting his legs were a pair of black denim pants and white socks.

She turned away and sauntered away from the railing, proceeding down the stairs slowly. Her weight creaked on the steps, causing her breath to hitch slightly. She made it downstairs and walked around, her boots adjusting to the ground floor.

Upon entering the kitchen, she could see Nathan completely. He was cutting something on a cutting board, she assumed vegetables of some sort. She looked up at him, watching his focus quietly.

It took a few minutes for him to see her standing there, her demeanor something he was so used to it didn’t scare him. He brushed his hair aside and smiled softly.

“Hi sweetheart. How are you?”

“‘M fine.” She smiled back. “How are you?”

“I’m great.” He looked at the board and set the knife down before looking back at her and flipping his hair again.

“I was thinking we could watch a movie and eat the dinner I’m making.” He said. “What do you think?”

Sigrid felt guilt rush over her whole being. The thought of a movie would have been nice years ago, but she needed an escape. She felt bad for the amount of dishonesty she was about to give him.

“Um, y–eah. We can. I just need to do something.” She heard herself say.

“Okay. I’ll be waiting.” Nathan replied and flashed another smile.

She smiled back weakly before turning and walking out. She made her way back upstairs and back into her bedroom, and she knew what she wanted. The window was hidden behind the abundance of posters, one that never saw her face in her whole lifetime.

She swallowed and stopped, her legs wobbling. Her eyes could only burn holes through the window as her mind raced in thought. She was going to do it.

It’s now or never. Do or die. Die lonely, or live forever.

She quickly rushed over to the window and shoved aside the many posters, nearly tearing them from her eagerness. She lifted the window with a soft grunt and hiked her leg over the window before getting her other leg over. She slowly gripped onto the other side, her legs dangling slightly. She huffed softly before dropping down carefully. The bottom of her boots smothered the grass, letting a loud crunch echo out.

Sigrid stood and hurried off into the night, immediately regretting not getting a jacket and flashlight. Cold air ran down her body and she felt herself shiver helplessly. She started to walk from the two story house in which she lived.

Getting onto the sidewalk gave her the ability to see all of the people, dressed in hastily thrown together costumes to well-thought out ones. They all had smiles on their faces and laughter spilled out of their mouths. She bowed her head and continued walking.

Libreta Avenue was one of the nice neighborhoods, and Nathan was thankful there was rent he could afford for the two of them there. Compared to the other rare spots of Los Angeles, Libreta was known to be the nicest one.

She looked down at the sidewalk, quietness filling her ears everyone once in a while until someone came along to take it away.

This quietness wasn’t one she was used to. Her brother would always be by her side to talk to her about whatever was on her mind. The house always had something happening to it. She felt even more guilt press down on her shoulders and prod at her stomach.

It would only be once, right?

She sighed shakily and looked up, fists clenched. She started to walk a bit faster, hoping she knew where she was going. If she went far, she was sure she would reach her destination…

The further she went, the quieter it got. It was almost silent, which made chills run down Sigrid’s spine. She knew she should be turning around and walking straight home, but she couldn’t help it.

Or could she?

I must be entering dangerous territory if it’s this quiet for a sketchy neighborhood not to be trick-or-treating.

She swallowed and kept walking, cursing herself again for not having brought a flashlight and jacket. The long sleeve wasn’t enough. She nervously tugged at her sleeves, pulling them down randomly.
She was able to make out a sign standing out on a pole. The words were incoherent, but like chicken scratch, she could make them out.

Bear Avenue.

She snapped her head downward and looked at all of the houses with their porch lights on. None of them had decorations despite seeming that way. Everything looked dead, despite Bear in the streets name. She opted to turn around now, but the state of the street pulled her in.

As she walked, she kept her eyes on the dead houses, the shivering make it all the more terrifying. Being cold and scared were not good feelings. She pressed her arms around her waist and walked a little faster than when she had slowed to see the sign and houses.

Sigrid knew there was no turning back now; she had to find it. She was hellbent it was here. Or was it just a rumor?

She tripped and gasped, body tumbling to the harsh concrete. The material immediately scratched her cheek into red marks that left her yelping softly. She weakly sat upright and touched her cheek before standing up quickly. Her mind felt fuzzy. Fuck iron deficiency.

But when she looked up, she could only assume it was the house.

A grey two-story house loomed ahead, adorned with black cobwebs and plastic spiders spilling from every nook and cranny. Bloodstained gravestones dotted the lawn, while skeletons littered the driveway, forcing people to navigate the gruesome obstacles carefully.

Groups huddled together, their costumes ranging from well-crafted to hastily thrown together like the ones back in her neighborhood. Sigrid stared at all of it in awe. She had never seen something so captivizing.

She whipped her head around to see if anyone had walked past her or was coming, but to no avail did she see anyone. She looked back and slowly started to walk toward the house.

Sigrid pushed through the clusters of revelers, (making sure to step over the skeletons with care) and stepped into the chaotic scene unfolding inside the house.

She walked into the house, immediately feeling the pulse of the music and the chaotic energy of the crowd. The room was filled with a mix of people, each more eccentric than the last. There were punks with neon mohawks, goths with heavy eyeliner and piercings, and rebels in leather jackets and ripped jeans. It was a scene straight out of a rebellious teenager's dream.

She watched as they danced with wild abandon, their laughter and shouts blending with the heavy metal blaring from the speakers. Sigrid felt a strange sense of belonging among these misfits. They were unapologetically themselves, and in their company, she felt a freedom she rarely experienced.

She quickly made her way to a wall by the snack table and stood against it, wary of the crowd she stood in. She glanced at the snack table and saw the order: a huge amount of alcohol and a scarce amount of snacks. A bowl of chips pathetically staled in the corner of the table, while the drinks were constantly taken ahold of.

For a while she watched, eyes glancing from left to right at the many bodies that she wanted to be. The things she wanted to have but couldn’t and the looks she wanted to have but couldn’t. She tugged at her sleeve slightly, insecurity dragging her back into its hellish pit. Less makeup, I’ll probably look less satanic. Some of the guys at school like more though.

She felt anxiety bubble up inside of her exceedingly, and too much she’d throw up. She felt her walls closing in, but she reminded herself that she needed to be here.

Everyone looked too busy for the pathetic goth girl, but then she cursed herself for the thought. Mean girls begged for attention, were practically on their knees for it. But she wasn’t mean, and she couldn’t be mean. She was being desperate, and that wasn’t okay.

Suddenly though, her meaningless prayers were answered.