Light Her Up

An unhinged paranormal tale.

Bloom was running late again. She didn’t try to run late, it just happened, like one bad thing led to a consequence of four more bad things until she was fixing five problems before she had to be somewhere important. Always somewhere important! This afternoon she’d blundered a job interview. Frustrated, she went to get herself a treat, but she spilled the hot chocolate on her new cream skirt. She bought some sparkling water to try and recover the skirt as best she could, chucking the bottle in her bag and hustling back to her car to fix herself. Perhaps it jostled around too much as she rushed along, because when she opened it, finally at ease in the driver’s seat, it exploded right in her face, through her hair and all over the rest of her outfit. Drenched. Jesus fucking Christ. What a day! Then the message came through:

Bloom, where the fuck are you? It’s your best friend’s wedding and you can’t even be on time for her first dress fitting. God, I have no idea why you’re the maid of honour. It’s 2:30!!! You’re so late!!

That was Brina. Saved in her phone as: Beware Brina. Her best friend’s other best friend.

They met through work, and to be quite honest, Brina had never liked Bloom. She didn’t know why exactly, maybe some strange territorial instinct over Mara.

Bloom and Mara had been best friends since high school. A lot of women outgrow each other because they outgrow their old selves. Mara and Bloom seemed to grow together, not always at the same time, but that didn’t matter. Mara always made sure to cling onto whatever it was they had formed, always pulling them back together.

Brina was… well Brina kind of fulfilled that bitchy side of Mara’s old self.  When Bloom found herself third-wheeling their friend dates, she would sit silently as she listened to them moan about their coworkers and share petty gossip. Mara would later tell Bloom that she didn’t care what was happening with who, but that it made her job mildly more interesting.

They both worked in HR, and it scared Bloom from entering the corporate world to know how degradingly human resources employees spoke of their co-workers. But she needed the money, so she was trying her hardest to fit into a world she did not want to be a part of. Probably why she always absolutely fumbled her job interviews. Subconsciously, surely, Bloom was sabotaging herself.

This once, Brina was right, she wasn’t the most dependable friend today, and she was sure they were bitching about her right this moment. She texted back:

I’m so sorry. Afternoon from hell. I’m on my way. Xx.

She added those little kisses sometimes to feign affection for Brina. To try and be friendly. In reality, if Brina and Bloom crossed paths by chance, and Mara was not part of their equation, there was no way in the world they would be friends. Brina was a raging fucking bitch, and Bloom had to bite her tongue till it bled to keep her mouth shut. Especially for Mara, and especially during all these wedding celebrations, so that she wouldn’t ruin the event with unnecessary drama.

Today was the dress fitting, and she’d already fucked it by being late, but she would be there, whether she looked like she’d just been drowned or not. Tonight was a meet and greet, the wedding party meeting each other, at the least, she could get herself together for that! There was hope yet.

***

Bloom waited in her car a moment outside the bridal shop, assessing the damage she’d done to herself as best she could. It wasn’t cold out, but she grabbed an old, oversized, leather jacket she always kept in her backseat and chucked it on. It buttoned at the front and kind of looked like she meant to wear it as a dress. She smoothed over her copper locks in the rear-view mirror and decided this was as good as it was going to get.

“Finally,” Brina said with an eye roll as Bloom entered the shop.

Mara ignored her and skipped over, kissing her on either cheek, thanking her for getting there.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it was at 2:30, not 2! I had a job interview, don’t ask! Don’t worry about me though, I can’t wait to see these dresses on you!”

Bloom was truly excited for her. Mara was happy, and her to-be husband Marco seemed like a good guy, who adored her.

“It was 2:30! You’re only ten minutes late, don’t even worry about it. Always have to wait at appointments anyway right?” She waved her hand, and Bloom couldn’t help but look past her to Brina, who made it sound like Mara was already fucking halfway through her dress selections.

“Oh good! I didn’t want to miss any part of this!” She meant that.

They were walked through only two minutes later, all with champagne in hand, to a small dressing area. The only part Bloom was dreading about this was the moments where Mara had to go switch dresses and she’d be left alone with Brina.

Each of them selected a dress for Mara, and she selected a few for herself, and the fitting had officially begun. Bloom couldn’t help but think about that message she’d received. How completely unnecessary it was for Brina to make her feel like a shit friend… her eyes wandered over to the girl who tested her patience like no other. At first, Brina said nothing to Bloom, sipping from her champagne like a bond girl. Brina was beautiful, on the outside. Long legs, slim body, a brunette with blue eyes – appealing to almost everyone, even Bloom, until she opened her bloody mouth.

“No, absolutely no,” Brina said as Mara came out in the first dress. She hadn’t even stood in front of the mirror on that little platform yet before Brina was shooting her down.

“I don’t think so either, but worth a shot!” Mara had a way to always let Brina’s negativity slide off her. She looked at herself in the mirror, doubtfully, her hand playing with the tulle of the skirt.

“I like the skirt,” Bloom said, trying to point out a positive.

“Yeah,” Mara pondered a moment, “I like the material at the bottom here, something to keep in mind.” She smiled again, as she should be in all these dresses, regardless of whether it was ‘the one’ or not.

There were several more that weren’t quite right, despite Mara looking like an absolute Cinderella in them. Then she came out in the dress Bloom selected, and… not to toot her own horn but it was exquisite. Bloom had a taste for these things, despite her several failed fashion and jewellery lines. If she could be a stylist, she would, she was good at finding the things that made people shine. Brina hummed, unable to say something bad about it. Yet she wouldn’t let herself say something positive, would she?

“I love, love, love this one Bloom!” Mara said as she admired herself in the mirror.

It had a silk, corset upper half, sucking her already tiny body in beautifully and lifting her small boobs politely. Her pixie-cut blonde hair made it so that her sharp collarbones stood out with the strapless style. This dress with a bold necklace would be divine. The corset peaked down in the middle, the silk skirt popping out at the hips giving her the shape she had mentioned wanting. It flowed down and out, a few tulle layers underneath that peaked out at the bottom. It was classic, but there was something special about it on her. She made it special.

“I don’t know,” Brina piped in, wiping both Bloom and Mara’s smiles from their faces. “Bit plain, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s perfect, I love it too, you make it special,” Bloom said, ignoring Brina, for the tenth time that day.

“I think I’m done trying stuff today, I’ll sleep on it and come back and try my top three I think,” Mara concluded, a little deflated.

“I’m just saying, you want to wow Marco! Like WOAH, you know? You’re such a unique weird person, the dress should match that. Not you trying to be some princess.” Being a unique, weird person was a compliment to both Bloom and Mara, but it wasn’t when it came from Brina’s mouth.

“She’s a bloody Queen in that dress, literal icon,” Bloom said, not being okay with Brina trying to put down Mara in any way, even slyly. “But sleep on it, I’ll come back with you whenever you want.” She smiled and Mara went to get changed.

“I’m just being honest you know,” Brina started, the smell of too many champagnes on her breath.

“I liked it, and she seemed happy in it, confident.”

“Whatever, I think she can do better.” Brina rolled her eyes. “What the hell happened to you anyway? You don’t look your usual edgy self,” it seemed as if almost every word was tainted with micro-aggression when she spoke to Bloom. “Come from a one-night stand or something?” She scoffed.

“No, just had a few outfit emergencies.” Bloom swallowed.

“Oh, embarrassing.” She giggled at her, not with her. “Hope you don’t mess up the bridesmaid dresses too…” She looked Bloom up and down. “Your vibe doesn’t exactly suit a silk lavender maxi does it?” No. Bloom’s style was not a lavender maxi dress, but she’d wear the shit out of it for her best friend’s wedding, and she’d look bloody good in it too.

“Doesn’t matter what my vibe is.” Bloom shrugged. “It suits everything, and it’s Mara’s favourite colour.” She couldn’t let Brina’s words slide off her like Mara did. They sunk in like seeds melting into soil, and she was a little afraid of what they would grow into.

***

That night, Bloom made damn sure she would show up on time and make a good impression and that everything would go smoothly and everyone would have fun. Whether she liked Marco’s groomsmen or not! There were only two of them, thankfully, so she didn’t have to charm the pants off too many people… not that she wanted to literally charm any pants off. Both the groomsmen were from Italy, Marco’s brother and a childhood friend. Only in town for the engagement party next weekend. Bloom wasn’t about a long-distance romance, and she didn’t do flings. She’d learned from her mother’s mistakes. At most, she would flirt if either of them took her fancy.

When she walked into the tapas bar, passing by a large mirror at the entrance with a painted flamenco dancer across it, she couldn’t help but notice her, so-called, edgy look. It worked, really well. Burnt orange flares that shaped her butt perfectly and matched her hair, a black halter lifting up her weighty chest and black strappy wedges that were thoughtfully chosen due to being her most comfortable heels to stand in. Back and arm tattoos exposed, just as she usually liked it. Why pay for the art just to hide it? Damn Bloom, she thought. Nicely done, much better than today… Her hair was curled and volumized and she wore simple make-up, confident enough to rise into the extrovert version of herself. She could do this, be the brightest person – make everyone happy.

Bloom was the first to arrive, and she grabbed a tall table not too far from the bar and ordered some starters for everyone. Mara came with Marco, and the two groomsmen, only followed shortly after by Brina. Everything seemed to be going relatively smoothly. Marco’s brother, Antonio, was basically a younger version of him, all dark-haired and dark-eyed and full of Italian charm. His friend, Dante, on the other hand, whilst dark-haired, had piercing green eyes. His skin was browned by the sun and his sharp angular nose gave him an interesting, rugged look. He had a neatly manicured beard, and both his ears were pierced. He had tattoos lining his arms too, some creeping out his button-down shirt, across his chest. They were strange though, not of anything in particular, more like swirling patterns. Bloom kept looking across to him, and they’d exchange a glance before he’d quickly look away.

Brina, of course, had her hands running down his arms any chance she got. Dante didn’t speak much so it wasn’t as if she could fawn over his great quips. It was bordering creepy how often she reached to touch him, and Bloom could see the discomfort in his low-turned lips every time her hand would jump toward him. He too, was swallowing down his disdain. Bloom could decipher what she knew.

“Bloom’s dad is from Italy too!” Mara pointed out somewhere in the conversation.

“Oh yeah, but I didn’t know him. I was a surprise from my mum’s little eat, pray, love journey.” She laughed.  Dante muffled a chuckle.

“Don’t tell me she was doñas de fuera,” he said and Bloom’s eyes snapped to his mouth and the words she couldn’t believe came out.

That is exactly what her Sicilian friends called her every time they wrote her or called her.

“She… was,” Bloom uttered. “She is known to be a bit flighty, bit off with the fairies.”

“Well yes, it’s the name we give to those who talk with the fairies.” He laughed, and Bloom realised this was the most he had spoken all night. “Unfortunately, crude men pretend to be from the other realm, tricking women into their beds.” That was so likely what had happened that Bloom could not even question it.

“Ew!” Mara scowled.

“I know.” He shook his head. “They’re called Fates.” Their fairies were referred to as Fates, Bloom had looked it up after she had read a few of her mother’s letters from Italy, trying to figure out who her father could have been – where she got her auburn eyes from. “Who knows, maybe she found a real one. You are quite otherworldly Bloom.” He smiled across at her and she smiled back crookedly, unsure of where this outward confidence came from.

Dante had been quiet all evening, avoiding her eyes, only now to tell her across the table, that she was other-fucking-worldly.

“Yeah, odd looking if that’s what you mean.” Brina laughed and again, went to slap her hand to Dante’s bicep.

This time, he moved away, looking at her as if she had just told him she made carbonara with cream. Italians care about those kinds of things. He was offended by her touch, and it made Bloom smile even wider.

“No, I mean, stunning, hard to look away from, beautiful in a way that this world does not deserve.” Holy shit. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said about her. Maybe she could do a fling.

Brina frowned, her face flushed red with embarrassment, and it was amazing. Brina looked up to Marco, a pleading in her eyes, what will you do about your friend rejecting me? But he only shrugged at her.

“Wow, Dante, I knew you’d like Bloom,” Marco said, still looking toward Brina, and Bloom’s stomach suddenly fluttered, the floor unsteady beneath her bar stool.

Brina excused herself to the bathroom and Marco excused himself to get more drinks, quickly subsiding the awkward interaction that had Bloom wondering why there was that sharp pain growing in her stomach instead of being quietly smug that Brina had been so publicly rejected. Antonio made an extra effort to keep Mara occupied with chatter while Dante looked at Bloom with a wicked, satisfied smile. Thank you, she mouthed.

“I meant it,” he said, then looked toward the bar, his brows folding together.

Bloom followed his eye line and realised exactly what he was realising.

Marco wasn’t at the bar.

Bloom excused herself and went to the bathroom, not sure exactly what she was looking for. The stabbing feeling that filled her only grew, like heartburn roaring up her oesophagus. She walked downstairs, into a dim hallway leading to the bathrooms, only to be distracted by a whispering argument coming from a cracked-open storage room. She paused to listen.

“You had your hands all over him! What am I supposed to do, not get jealous?” It was Marco. No. No. Fuck, why did she have to hear this?!

“Well, no offence babe but I literally went wedding dress shopping with your fiancé today so… I think I can flirt if I want to!” That conniving, unloyal, absolute, total bitch.

“He’s not interested!” Marco was really jealous, and this was really bad.

“Maybe if that stupid cow wasn’t here being all weird and mysterious. She’s like a fucking succubus, tricking everyone into liking her.” Rude. Bloom didn’t have to trick anyone into liking her, unlike some.

“Bloom is just an innocent idiot, always looking at the bright side, even when her life is shit. That’s why people like her. Maybe you could learn a thing about that instead of being cruel all the time.” Also rude but okay.

“Well if I’m so cruel, then why do you call me every night when Mara sleeps? Why do you sneak around and have sex with me? Huh? Why?”

“You’re infuriating!” Bloom had just about heard enough.

She pushed open the door, allowing them to see her, seeing them.

“What the fuck guys?” Bloom’s voice was broken, for all she could think of was how torn apart Mara would be. Marco was supposed to be good, and she had looked so damn happy in that dress.

Both of them looked at her bug-eyed as if she was only a mirage and not truly there. As if, if they stared long enough, she would walk away thinking this was all too strange to be real. She stared back.

“If you say anything at all, I swear to God I’ll fucking kill you Bloom. I’ll make your life more hellish than it already is. You know I can!” Already with the threats, she expected no less from Brina. “You’re an absolute nobody. The only person in your life that means anything is Mara and I can make it seem like you’re lying just to make her as unhappy as you are. Then you’ll have no one for real and you’ll just be the giant loser you were destined to be. I can do that. You know I can!” She kept saying, you know I can, while Marco stood behind her like a putrid coward.

“I know you can shut the fuck up and listen to me,” Bloom blurted. “You go pull her aside, and tell her everything right now, or I will. I won’t let my best friend get married to one fucking idiot while a mindless whore stands on her other side.” Oops. Where did that come from?

Brina stepped forward and grabbed Bloom by the hair at the bottom of her neck, yanking her further into the disgusting closet of betrayal with them. Bloom lifted her hands, trying to pry open Brina’s grip, with no luck.

“I mean it, I’ll ruin you.” Brina’s spit hit Bloom’s face as she spoke, her mouth salivating like a rabid dog.

“Not if I ruin you first.”

Bloom could not exactly describe what happened next, only that she went to open her mouth to speak again, to say something truly fucked up, but instead of words, that burning inside her seemed to… erupt.

Fire scorched Brina’s skull, to a crisp, to nothing, ashes falling onto her limp body as Bloom stepped back to watch her body drop. Marco, behind her, had suffered the same fate, accidentally caught in the rage that had consumed Bloom. Holy shit. Yeah, they cheated, but she just fucking killed them! Shit. Shit. SHIT!

“Finish the job,” the rushed, quiet words came from behind her as she stared down at what she had done. Her mouth still hot like a furnace. “Quickly! We’ll tell the others they left. Ran off together.” It was Dante, so unphased by the fact both of the dead people in front of her had no fucking heads!

“Huh?” She said, not even knowing how to breathe again, let alone breathe fire.

“Here, I’ll do it.” He held her wrist and pulled her to his side while he gently lit the rest of their bodies alight, before blowing another lot of air to stifle the fire, leaving nothing but dusty ash on the floor of the storeroom.

“What the fuck? What are we?” She held her hand to her mouth both in shock and trying to prevent herself from vomiting fire again.

“Fire fae. You’re royal, can tell from the hair and the eyes, your mother snagged a special one.” He collected a broom and swept to ashes to the back of the room.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” She stepped back, removing herself from that room and staring at the ground, at the bodies that were now just grime in the storeroom of a tapas bar down the street from her house.

Bloom’s entire body shook, and Dante turned to hold her, pulling her head to sit under his chin, his arms wrapped around her, brushing her hair down her back. Soothing her as if he knew her. She let him, only because she didn’t know what else to do.

“No, but we cannot control when the fire first comes.” He sighed. “Mine was worse, and no one even threatened me.”

“What… what do we do?” Her words were muffled now by tears and the way her head rested on his chest.

“I’ll handle this.” He must have known the moment he saw her.

“Why is this happening?” She stepped out of his embrace and looked up to him.

“Rage, darling. Rage cannot be contained.” Bloom knew there was anger hidden deep within, knew that every time Brina spoke a new seed was planted within her, but she did not expect it to grow into this.

“Normal people yell. I yell when I’m upset. I’m… I’m not… an angry person. I’m not.” Her words fell into each other, her tongue clumsy with disbelief.

“We aren’t normal.” He tilted his head, and his lips tilted upward as if this was all amusing. “You’re a good person, a kind one, I can see. But people piss you off darling, that’s okay.” The way he called her darling was oddly reassuring. “Maybe just let them know as it happens, you don’t want to incinerate anyone else just because they’re an asshole now do you?”

“No…” she shook her head. “Of course not.”

He stepped forward and reached for her hand.

“We have to own our rage, not let the rage own us.” There was that gentle smile again.

She could barely imagine him raging… he was tender, not forceful at all. Even when he blew his fire, it was controlled – he could have blown glass with their remains.

“There you two are!” Mara exclaimed as she stepped into the corridor. “Everything okay?” She could see Bloom’s teary face and could understand the conversation between her and Dante was far more intimate than two strangers should be. Bloom dropped her hand from his, as he turned to face her best friend, a friend whose whole social circle she just burnt to a crisp.

“Marco and that other girl,” he said, Bloom was sure he didn’t remember her name. “They…” and Mara’s eyes widened, her shoulders dropped, because she knew what he was going to say. “They left… together.” He finished.

Mara’s eyes closed slowly, so slowly it was as if she was practising falling asleep.

“I knew there was someone…” her words were so low, almost indecipherable. “Ugh!” She turned and punched the wall, jolting Bloom back a step.

Her, jolting, at a punch in the wall. You just breathed fucking fire babe.

“They can burn in hell for all I care!” She yelled, like a normal person, then walked toward Bloom and yanked her to leave. “You can let Marco know when you see him that leaving me, at a meet and greet for our wedding party, is the most cowardly thing he’s ever done, and he can rot!” She laughed ravingly, again, a normal type of rage. “Brina will make sure he does, with all the shit she talks, his brain will be a sewer by the time she’s done with him.” No fire, still no fire. “You know, she told me it was you.”

Uh oh.

That’s not good. Don’t tell Bloom that.

“I told her I was suss, and she said, well is he into red heads? Cause that Bloom sure is pretty friendly with everyone isn’t she?”  The voice was an excellent mockery of Brina, and still, it did not do much to humour Bloom, it only… lit a fire.

“Stop!” Dante stood forward, lunging toward Bloom who was about to be dragged up the stairs by Mara.

“What?!” Mara turned on her heel, baring her teeth as if he was as much her enemy now as Marco.

“Just…” He looked at Bloom as if his beautiful green eyes alone could stop her from erupting. She focused on them, just as she suspected he wanted her to.

Brina was gone, there was no point now, no reason to want to explode because of lies she spewed, lies she knew she had always been capable of. Brina was gone, but Bloom was not, and she would not lose her best friend because she could not control her temper.

“Ouch!” Mara let go of Bloom’s arm. “You’re so hot!” She stared at her, worried, then moved to place the back of her hand on Bloom’s forehead. “You’re burning up. Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Bloom halted one step between her and Mara, one step between her and Dante.

“Dante offered to be our tour guide if we ever wanted to visit Sicily.” Mara gave her a stare that rivalled her old self before she launched into attack mode.

“Marco and I…” Dante stepped beside Bloom. “No longer friends really.” He looked at Bloom and laughed. It was too soon to laugh, and her squinting eyes told him so much. He stopped. “I can show you the Fates. The real ones.” He winked but it did nothing to melt away Mara’s fearsome glare. Her fists curled at her sides. Then… her head twitched, and her lips inched upward.

“What is this?” She gestured between the two of them. “You were basically a mute all night and now my best friend seems enamoured, unable to move from your side…”

“We found something in common, I think we’re friends now,” Bloom blurted, and Mara raised her brows.

“Do go on,” she pressed, smiling now.

“Well… it’s going to sound kind of mad,” Bloom said.

Then it was Dante’s turn to blurt. “She’s a Fate, like me, real ones…” Mara held her hands up, halting the conversation. Yep, it was too much, too crazy.

“Finally!” What did she mean finally? “Fire, right?” She prodded. How… “With a name like Bloom, I mean, your mother really gave it away, you little pixie you!” She let out a low, drawn-out sigh. “Took you bloody long enough! I’ve been waiting for ages; I almost thought I was wrong.” She slapped her knee, laughing. “I mean, I forced you to hang out with me and Brina just to see if she’d get you geared up enough to you know… I don’t know what you call it… be all fiery!”

Well, it worked. Thanks for making me a murderer, Mara.

“What are you?” Dante asked.

“Spring fairie, no fancy Italian Fate, but I know a fairie when I see one.” She looked Dante up and down, eyeing the tattoos that wrapped his body.

“If you knew… why didn’t you… say anything?” Bloom stammered.

“Yeah, like you’d believe me.” She threw her head back in laughter. “So, you burned them didn’t you?” Bloom’s eyes widened and she wasn’t sure there was any point in lying.

“Accidentally.” She gulped.

“Eh.” Mara flipped her hand through the air. “Was pretty boring being with a human anyway.”

Dante looked at Bloom, and Bloom stared back at him and suddenly laughter seemed an appropriate response. The three of them stood blocking the stairwell, cackling like evil maniacs, and nothing had ever felt so good, so… light.

“So, when shall we visit the Sicilian Fates?” Mara breathed out, her voice still stumbling on laughter.

The beauty about being a positively unemployed idiot, with an apparent ‘shit life’ meant that leaving tomorrow would cause no qualms, no hiccups, and absolutely no inconvenience to Bloom’s current situation. Perhaps… perhaps, on the other side of rage, on the other side of the world, on the other side of knowing, she’d find a life worth rooting herself into, a life where she had no reason to pretend to do or be anything other than exactly what she was.

“I’m ready when you are.” Bloom shrugged.