The Perfect Curse

Kensington Park was the kind of place that was photographed for newsletters, where every pearly white shuttered home had grass of no more than a height of one inch. The small, close knit town rallied around their local high school, and everyone knew everyone. In a town full of bake sales, coffee shops, and football games, no one could have suspected the darkness that would soon consume this perfect little town. Rainden high school housed every walk of life you could imagine, the jocks, the school nerds, the band geeks, the goths, the cheerleaders, and the gamers. The interactions between them were as you would expect and as you would see in any teenage drama movie. “Are you going to Jameson’s party on Friday?” Francesca asked her best friend as she put on lipstick in the girls 3rd floor bathroom. Odessa, a skinny cheerleader with blonde curls flowing in all sorts of directions blew out smoke from a Newport 100 and replied, “I guess so Frankie, as long as Dean is going to be there.” “He will be Dessi, you slut!” Odessa put out her cigarette, sprayed her perfume, and the girls laughed as they left and walked towards their least favorite class, math. As they took a seat, another group was discussing the same party towards the back of the room. “Another Jameson party, where the pity invite comes our way, just so we can sit in the corner and pretend to like these people, let's just stay home and play minecraft. I’m working on a brand new farm” Nico said. “I still want to go anyway, maybe we can actually make a new friend,” Marnie said hopefully. Three p.m came around and the school doors burst open as if the students were running for their lives. Little did they know, the curse that would land upon this town would have these “innocent” children running for their lives. It was mid October, and a chill rolled through the town as the weekend approached. At nighttime, the streets of Kensington Park were usually quiet, almost to an eerie decibel. The noise occurred behind closed doors. To the world, these families were just as perfect as the town. To each other, the problems were swept under the rug and would soon runneth over. It was Friday night, and everyone was getting ready for Jameson’s party in their own way. Frankie was tearing apart her closet trying to find the perfect dress long enough to hide the scars on her upper thighs. Francesca Mione was one of the “populars”, a beautiful cheerleader captain. Everyone wanted to be her friend, or at least everyone felt like they needed to be her friend for a chance at an upgrade in social status. You could easily get lost in her tremendous brick home, which often made her feel lonely, although you would never know it. Francesca’s mom and dad usually kept to themselves and their work and came out to show their love for their daughter when it was necessary. In other words, when they were on display in the town. The only one Frankie really loved was her best friend Odessa. Dessi understood Frankie, but even Dessi didn’t know about the scars that ravished the perfect canvas that was Francesca Mione. She discovered the blade in 9th grade, the time she started to notice just how alone she felt in the world. How nothing she could do seemed perfect enough to fill that void of a family. She often wished that she didn’t have the parents that she did. She needed to feel something, and so she did. Frankie rolled her eyes, threw on some tights, a low cut dress, and some silver high heels. “Go ahead Dess, your turn to raid my closet,” Frankie said as she headed towards the mirror to check her hair one more time. “Oh come on, Frankie, like you even need to check your hair. It’s always perfect,” Odessa said as she looked hopelessly through her best friend’s closet. Odessa Trakos was also known to be popular, but usually in the shadow of her best friend Frankie. As mentioned earlier, Odessa smoked any chance she could get. While she thought this tamed her anxiety, it only fueled it to great magnitudes. She always had a fire under her feet and was never satisfied where she was, she longed to escape her reality whenever she could. Dessi loved Frankie too, but even best friends withhold truths. The girls hopped on their bikes and headed towards the Jameson residence, with a six pack each in tow. Dean, a defensive end for the Rainden Rattlesnakes, arrived at Jameson's with his bottle of Bacardi, donning his letterman jacket and perfectly gelled hair. Jameson, another blonde haired spectacle, turned on the music and motioned to Dean to set the alcohol amongst the copious amounts that were already there. “So whatcha thinking man, you gonna get with Odessa tonight?” Jameson inquired. “Psh I mean I can get that anytime I want, that girl is practically begging for it. If I do that, then you have to try with Frankie,” Dean said with chauvinistic confidence. The doorbell rang, Jameson yelled, “IT’S OPEN,” and then whispered to Dean, “Let the games begin”. Meanwhile, two blocks over on Carol Court, Marnie was yelling at Nico to hurry up and put the finishing touches on his minecraft farm, so they could head to the party. Marnie Teller, wasn’t exactly part of the popular crowd, however everyone always got invited to Jameson’s parties. It was almost as if the town was begging for drama or anything remotely interesting to happen. Marnie Teller was a hopeful 11th grader, trying to expand her friend group beyond Nico who didn’t see anything wrong with just having one friend. Marnie grew up next door to Nico, so they were practically built as best friends. Although, some have speculated that Nico felt more. However, Marnie never picked up on those feelings. She always had her eyes set on some football player, but always ended up night after night sleeping next to Nico, platonically of course. Marnie and Nico knew they would always have each other no matter what. Would this curse upon this perfect little town be the final straw to tear them apart? Marnie and Nico swiftly took two liquor bottles out of Nico’s parents' cabinet and headed to the party. All the familiar party festivities were happening, drinks being spilled, tongues and spit being exchanged, body parts rubbing against each other on the dance floor, all inhibitions gone. Drew the drug dealer made his appearance late as usual. Drew Wells always came to the parties although he never really got close to anyone, only for “business”. Drew was making his way through the dark, smoky hall, when he was grabbed by Odessa, with mascara running down her face. His usual response was to keep stone faced and not play into any emotion of a possible customer. “What can I do for ya,” he said to a panicked Dessi. “I don’t know, I just don’t know, I need anything, fucking strong!” Odessa said in between gasps for breath and tears. Drew and Desi stepped into one of the many rooms in Jameson’s house and he handed her a bag with a little blue pill. “What do I owe you?” Desi said, rummaging through her purse. “Ya know, it’s on me,” Drew said, almost shocking himself as he said it. Then Drew did something even more out of character. “What’s the matter?” he said. Desi popped the pill and laid down on the floor, “Dean is what’s the matter, why am I just not good enough?” “Oh Ms. Trakos, please don’t tell me you are wasting your tears over someone with the IQ of a rock.” At this comment, Desi laughed and looked at Drew, almost as if it were the first time. Why was she throwing herself at Dean, practically taking her clothes off for him, just to be rejected. He joined her on the floor, and they started to smoke countless cigarettes, and talk about their favorite bands, aliens, and what inspired them. Downstairs, Nico was wallflowering himself while he watched Marnie desperately try to capture the attention of Jameson. Frankie was in her usual spot by the shots table, doing what she could to become the popular drunk girl they all expected her to be. Then it happened, an ear splitting sound that could only be described as something you hear in death, spread throughout the party and the lights departed from the lamps, and soon from this perfect little town. The panic set in slowly, just as everyone was pushing each other to find the nearest exit, the lights came back on. Only everyone knew that something was different, the party that was happening before the lights went out, was not the same party that was occurring now. Although they all had this same sinking feeling in their stomachs, they partied till they couldn’t anymore. Everyone went home or passed out in their usual holes. The sun rose on the quiet town that was Kensington Park, but was covered by a cluster of gray, ominous clouds. Marnie opened her eyes, and looked to her left expecting to find Nico drooling. Only Nico wasn’t there. She got up, looked around. Everything was different, her room was different, almost empty. She felt different, like half of her was gone. Unable to shake this feeling, she ran downstairs, and out of her ripped screen door. “Where is Nico’s house?” she screamed, holding her hands to her head. “NICOOOOOO,” she started to panic. Nico’s house was gone, almost as if it never existed. Only, she knew it had, once upon a time. She looked around Carol Court, and the uneasy feeling started to grow. The once perfectly manicured block was now something she did not recognize. Mrs. Laken, who always was dolled up with the perfect makeup, was now sitting on her porch, her eye a deep purple and green, her face drawn and pale. Marnie always heard Mr. and Mrs. Laken fighting, but the way she was always so chipper and so put together, Marnie didn’t recognize the woman. Marnie started running, sweating down the block until she reached what looked like a cemetery. This had never existed here before, what was happening. She was running when she tripped over a cement marble headstone. “Here lies Nico Torren, 1960-1976” Marnie fell over at the sight of this. It felt like her soul was taken from her body. The sky got darker, and a unrecognizable, demonic voice came into existence, “Marnie, welcome to your personal hell, you wanted to run away from the love Nico gave you, now feel his loss forever” 

Three blocks over on Henderson Street, Frankie woke up to liquid dripping down her arms. Once she fully opened her eyes, she let out a blood curdling scream. She was covered in blood. The scars that once hid underneath a pair of tights had now covered her entire body. “SOMEBODY HELP ME!!” She screamed as she ran through the empty, almost haunted house that she had once called home. Blood splattered an artistic masterpiece upon the cream colored walls. She started to come to the realization that this blood was not hers. She ran outside, begging for anyone in what seemed like a lifeless town, to help her. She stumbled upon a cemetery, where broken pieces of cement lay in a pile. She frantically started to pull them apart, “Here lies Nancy Mione and Fred Mione” Red spray paint across their names tagged with “Worst parents ever” She screamed, knowing in her heart that it was her who had committed this unspeakable act. The sky got darker, and a unrecognizable, demonic voice came into existence, “Francesca, your deep desire for a family drove you to murder the only family you had. You are incapable of having one, welcome to your personal hell!” 

Dessi woke up out of her blue pill fantasy haze, and seemed to feel better than she had in a long time. That was, until she walked out of her room. Panic started to set in, her breaths got shorter, she started to feel faint, and dropped to her knees. All over her skin, were the words she had drilled into her mind over the years. Accept me, look at me, love me, fuck me, pay attention to me. She frantically tried to wash them off her skin, only to find how permanently written they were. She ran outside, and the sky got darker, and an unrecognizable, demonic voice came into existence, “Odessa, all you ever wanted was to be loved in the wrong way, now you must show the world how you so desperately feel, welcome to your personal hell!” 

You see, Kensington Park was the perfect little town. All of these problems were hidden under dresses, inside anxious minds, behind closed doors and closed eyes. This demonic presence that had descended upon Kensington forced all of these fears and realness out into the open. The real Kensington Park came out to play. The hold that this darkness had on this quaint little town would not be given up without a fight. The question is, how will a town full of bake sales, coffee shops and football games ever recover?