Crimson "Dizzy" Holloway's Arc

Chapter 5 of 5

The pins felt wrong in Dizzy's hands. She threw the first one and missed. It clattered across the stage. The second spin came loose too. The crowd's cheer thinned to muttering. Somewhere in the dark tunnel, a drum stopped. She grabbed for the third pin and dropped it. The floor tilted under her boots. She had drunk the whole bottle to feel nothing, and now she felt everything sliding away. The crowd started to boo. A cup flew past her ear. Dizzy squinted at the bright smear of faces and saw one figure standing at the stage edge, arms crossed, grinning that dry grin. Jessie Pinkton. Her rival. The man who once sold her stuff, then pushed her to steal for it. He had gone before her tonight and worked the crowd clean. Now he watched her fall apart and loved every second. "Told you," Jessie called. He scratched his skinny arm, twitching. "You'll fall on your face." Something in Dizzy snapped loose. She staggered off her mark and lurched toward him. Her boots caught. The pins rolled from her fingers. She got right up in his face, swaying, eyes half shut. "Your mamma's so fat," Dizzy slurred. Jessie's grin froze. "What?" She never finished the joke. Her stomach heaved. The tequila came up all at once. She threw up down the front of Jessie's white tank top, then over her own coat, a hot sour flood. Jessie jumped back, arms flung wide, but too slow. Yellow slime dripped off his chest. "Get it off," he shouted, clawing at his shirt. "Get it off me!" Dizzy swayed once. Her knees gave. She dropped straight down into the puddle she had made and did not get up. Her cheek pressed into the warm heap. Her yellow eyes closed. The floor stopped tilting because she was part of it now. The crowd went wild, but not for her. They pointed and howled with laughter. Then the chant started, low at first, then all together, stamping in time with the drums. "You messed up! You messed up! You messed up!" It filled the tunnels under the funhouse. It bounced off the warped painted walls. Jessie stood over her, wiping the mess from his arms, and for a moment even he stopped smiling. He just stared down at the small red-haired girl passed out in her own filth. Hands grabbed Dizzy's ankles and wrists. They dragged her off the stage, her coat leaving a smeared trail across the boards. The chant did not stop. Somewhere above, Violent J watched from the shadows and shook his head. The runoff was over.