Masks of Insanity | Probability.

“Come over darling,” Augusta calls out to the figure but it doesn't budge in the slightest.

She stretches her hands out and the figure moves towards her; although slow, it makes an effort to act. Soon a frame like Tony comes fully into view, only lankier.

Clarence is clad in jeans and a hoodie. His black-as-night hair, greatly in contrast with his ghost pale skin that screams inadequate sunlight, needs a visit to the salon. But with all these concerning pointers, I smile at him just as my job description demands I do.

“Hey Clarence. How are you?” I say. There's silence. Clarence does not even spare me a glance. He busies himself with the sight of his bare toes on the floorboards.

“Clarence tends to avoid human interaction. He only ever talks to I and his dad,” Augusta says with eyes on Clarence. Her eyes do not show irritation. They have worry stamped all over them instead. “It hasn't always been like this. Growing up he used to be lovely, he still is the sweetest boy I ever met. I can't pinpoint where or when it all went wrong but it for sure took us unawares, the change…” she trails off and I examine Clarence further.

“Come take a sit with me Clarence.” First rule of human interaction…try creating a bond. The amount of time you have cannot be a hindrance to you, only you can. He does not budge at my plea, just stands in front of us for the entirety of the discussion with his parents. I will have to overlook that rule now, won't I?

Throughout the interview I keep wondering about his legs, if they hurt or not because trust me, having his parents talk about their history with him is not something you wrap up in mere seconds.

What causes me the most surprise though is Clarence’s parents do not bother about him. They let him be and by “let him be” I mean stand for hours with his head down, staring at his feet and making no sounds.

The day flows into a cheery evening with a still silent, unmoving Clarence and his parents who have no more tales to tell.

“Thanks for having us. We should be on our way now,” I say with the last nervous laugh from Augusta.

Everyone follow my cue as I stand and soon we're shaking and hugging our goodbyes.

“We are more than grateful that you came,” Tony says.

“Yes, yes. Feel free to stop by some other time,” a happy Augusta chimes in with a smile so wide I fear for the safety of her lips at the edges.

“Thanks,” I say and turn to move out but stop with my remembrance of the complementary gesture that comes with my every visit which I did not remember to show.

“Oh yes!” I whip out our branded cuff bracelet that says happy people, happy places from my coat pocket and walk to Clarence. “Before I forget, I have something for you Clarence.” I wrap his wrist with the bracelet then proceed to show it off to both his parents and the camera. “This is our memoir for you being good. I would love if you kept it.”

I smile when he does a slight raise of his head and stares at his wrist. In my mind confetti is being sprayed around with balloons floating their way above.

“Progress!” I tell myself and fist pump the air in my mind.

“Okay then, off we go,” I say and Augusta gives me a final hug.

We climb the van and while waving at Augusta and Tony, I notice Clarence behind them. My heart sinks with fright from his strained stare on me and I'm more than happy when Mark drives away from their driveway that I almost miss the green Tundra parked by the side of the house.

“Phew! That was draining,” I say to Mark as we fall out to the gravel road an intersection away from Clarence's home. “Don’t you agree?”

“Well, having to watch Clarence stand throughout the interview was something. It drained me,” Mark replies and we share a good laugh at that.

“Can we make a stop at that store we saw on our way?”

“We sure can Sasha.”

“Thanks,” I say with relief, staring out the window as my heart beats in sync with the country music from the radio.

We approach the store and the first thing to grab my attention is a green Tundra that looks like the one from Clarence's yard. It sits to the right of the only available parking space in the lot.

My heart flips in my chest just as everything diminishes from my perspective. At that moment there only exists a green Tundra to me.

“I’ll go get gas,” Mark says, startling me out of my trance into coming to terms that I'm out of the van.

“Sure…okay…that would be great,” I stutter. “I’ll call you when I'm done.” He nods.

Grabbing my purse, I carry myself on legs that wobble into the store.

The cartons of cereal which are in neat stacks calm my nerves. I'm humming the tunes of baby shark just as soon as the nerves drop.

Picking the cartons of cereals I need from shelves, I hum even louder and move on to the wine aisle where I find just what I want. In an effort to reach for it, my eyes dart lazily to the aisle across from me.

There, standing unmoving, is a figure that has a hoodie over its head and has jeans covering its lower body. I notice the huge emblem stuck to the sleeves of the hoodie, the same with Clarence's sleeves.

As if reading my mind, the figure turns to me. I feel my eyes expand without my control and my lungs cease all functionality when Clarence stares at me from the gaps in the shelf I stand in front of.

Right in front of his blazing eyes my whole body shudders. Panicking, I hunch and move to the far end of the aisle. I don't see him when my eyes trace their way to his former position. It suddenly feels like he disappeared into thin air.

Without further ado, I escape from the store. Abandoning the cart full of groceries, I flee into the parking lot.

There are no signs of Mark's van or the green Tundra. My insides tingle out of fright, so does the sink of my heart.

Whipping out my phone I dial Mark's line and just like every horrific situation, my only hope of safety is unreachable.

The automated voice at the end of the line claims he is unavailable but I ignore it and try over and over again to get through to him.

I hope my luck changes as I pace the area of the parking lot with unsteady legs that threaten to crumble under my weight. That is when I bump into something warm and ruffled.

“Sorry,” I say, fright noticeable in my voice, and regret it straight away.

With his height advantage, Clarence stares down at me like a disgusting bug he is about to squash.

“I’m sorry.” A sob escapes with my desperate plea for something I don't even know.

I retreat, first cautiously then as quick as my skirt and heels will let me, from the close proximity. I look back at him but he is not chasing after me. He just watches me flee like a pathetic damsel in distress.

With a force, my ankles twist as I keep my focus on him in my race away and next I know I'm turning in the air and falling head first on the gravel terrain.

My head hurts from the impact in a way I think smashing it with a thousand mallets will feel like. The whirring that fills my ears and clouds my mind throws me into confusion and a darkness so foreign and so cold seeps into me.

Before it consumes me whole, I see the hulking silhouette of a figure walk towards me.

That's when I know I'm done for.