Divine Deception "Masquerade" 
When I was young, I never would have believed that I would mask my true identity in a simple attempt at keeping my own name hidden. The Alto name was something I believed would take me places, push past lines and through the common folk that crowd the streets. To use everything it had to levitate me off the ground as if I was something special. I thought I was somebody. A young girl with the power over the men decked out in shirts and ties. And all too often, I fell victim to not being able to see reality. I was left in a wonderland where I once believed my life was paved out of golden brick from point A to point B. To happily ever after. And at the end, I would be able to touch the edge of greatness. Yet now I conceal myself behind the mask for fear of losing whatever little bit I still have. So as to not raise questions and be pulled back into the life in the spotlight. I am but a mere stand-in in a play meant for somebody else. This mask will tie to the back of my head and prolong the deception for those I pass by. It will be my comfort, my rock. Save me from the pain and sadness, and whatever else comes straight my way.
I glance to the driver's side of the truck where Nathan sits. He hasn't spoken to me since our argument last night. When I had gotten ready this morning, it was Jim who told me that Nathan was waiting to take me to the bus station. By the time I made it to the driveway, the truck was already started and warm, Nathan behind the wheel waiting. I climbed in and without another word we were driving out from the driveway and down this road and that.
I can't say that I blame him for questioning me. I'd do the same thing if the places were turned. Wasn't it I who lashed out at Alecia for keeping what I had believed to be a hidden agenda? I shake my head. It's a good thing I'm leaving his presence today. His threat of figuring out who I am hasn't been forgotten and I highly doubt they were just words to Nathan. He meant every last one of them last night and for how persistent he is, I don't doubt he'd find a trail and follow it just to prove a point. He's stubborn and annoying and I don't think I am any different. Opposites will always attract and those who are the same will continue to clash.
"This is it," Nathan says as he pulls into a spot and puts the truck in park. He gets out of the truck and I follow. "Through there," he points at the stone building, "will take you into the train station and over is where you catch a bus. "Make sure you buy a ticket before you board and enjoy your life in Bridgeport."
As he goes to head back to the truck, I call out to him, "Thank you... for everything. I'm sorry that I was such an inconvenience." I see him stall for a moment. His back is facing me and from the white air that rises into the air, I know that he's taken a deep breath. A part of me wants to believe that he's going to turn around, apologize to me too. There are enough people on my enemy list right now that I'd rather not add another one even if we don't completely see eye to eye. But instead, Nathan pushes forward again and before I know it, he's in the truck and driving off.
There is a group of people hanging out in front of the place, crowding the doors and making it difficult to use the doors. As I try and pass through, a woman with blonde hair stops me and tells me that the station is closed for the time being.
"Are you sure?" is the first thing that springs past my lips. The woman's eyebrows come together concerned. I clear my throat immediately. "I mean, I thought it was open today."
"It was until some idiot threw himself in front of one of the trains." The woman rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "Some people have no decency."
My own eyes narrow at the woman in front of me. I have a sudden urge to grab my knapsack and pummel her with it. Somebody had just died and there she is upset that she has to wait. That the world isn't revolving around her and that other things happen. The fact that this woman, and probably countless others standing out there, doesn't care about the person on the tracks. Or the family that won't be setting that extra spot at the dining room table.
"Then why are you telling me this?"
"I am telling you this because you deserve to know. I have played this game for a long time, Delilah, and I have hurt a lot of people, but what I've learned is that the only people who get hurt are the players."
"This is complete bull."
The memory of the last argument between Vita and me casts a sickening spell comes over my head. The woman in front of me continues to complain to her friend next to her, going on and on about how she was going to be late for her mani-pedi and my head begins to feel as if it is about to explode.
"I know this is a lot, Delilah, and I am so sorry for all of it." I wipe the line of sweat on the sides of my head and then cover my face with my hands.
"I know your father loved you, and as much as I don't want to say it, I know Sadie loves you too." As I pull my hands away and take a deep breath, I catch a glimpse of her. In the distance I can see her white hair. It's pulled into that tight bun she always wore with elegance. "Vita?" I whisper to myself. I step past the woman complaining next to me to get a better look. Vita's talking with somebody wearing a purple hat and jacket. Vita's still alive? A tingling courses through my veins the closer I get to her. I could go back home. I could continue on with life how it was before. Just the thought of it makes my stomach churn.
Back to Sunset Valley where everything fell apart?
And suddenly I hate this imaginary woman I know deep down isn't Vita. If Vita was alive, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't have left and why would she be here at this bus station anyway? I take a better look at the woman as I pass her to a police officer. It isn't Vita, just another woman who looks similar to her. I ask the police officer when he believed everything would be functional again and he lets me know that it won't be for a few hours. Just my luck. Now I just have to waste some time. "Thank you," I tell him and wander on down the road to see what I can do until everything is back and running.
I wander for a few hours, looking over the little places that I'll probably never see again. There's a park that looks tiny in comparison to the one in Sunset Valley that I went to festivals as a kid. There's only a small pond here and a couple of chess tables under a roof. A man and a woman who I guess is his wife skate on top of it, their eyes locked in one another's gaze as they glide effortlessly across the solid ice. I can't help but think of my parents... My real parents and wonder if they ever had this kind of love between them. When I think back on it, Vita never had anything around the house that showcased any affection toward my father. Now, it seems appalling to the point of being contradictory. If they loved each other as much as Vita said they did, why wasn't there anything to show for it? A photograph. A letter. Something! Of course, maybe she'd gotten rid of everything once Sadie stepped on board. The more I think about it, the more I realize that it is a far greater situation than I am capable of understanding.
There's a small pub down the way. The lights on the sign out front has seen better days. Many of the bulbs have burnt out, though I can still read what it says: JJ's Bar. I open the door and step inside. It's like any pub one can find in a small town if they look hard enough. Cheap lines of wood run along the floor, chipped from many years of traffic and wear. Photographs of athletes with their signature litter the walls, framed in gold rimmed cases make it seem like they have actually dined here before and there's a oily smell in the air that reminds me of the diner back home.
I take a seat at the bar and place my knapsack on the bar stool next to me. The bartender asks what he can get me and I simply ask for a water. Within seconds I get one. He moves to attend a group of other thirty patrons and I pull out my laptop. I charged it before I left this morning. I've got some time to waste and, oh all right, I admit that I am just a little curious of what's going on with the world I left behind. The night I left I closed down all of my accounts on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. I've been gone for days and by now the lawyers have been to my house and gone. Hopefully nothing's gone haywire because of my leave. It's a silly thing to hope, especially when deep down I know my absence has raised some red flags somewhere.
And I'm right. There's a video online. I plug in my earphones and play it.
"... an amber alert issued overnight in Sunset Valley." A tall, thin man is on screen. His hair is dark brown, almost black, pasted to his skull with what looks like cheap grease. "
The FBI has now joined the search for seventeen-year-old Delilah Alto, last seen leaving her mother's funeral two nights ago. SVN's Gwen Abernathy has more on this breaking story. Gwen."
"Good evening to you, Stan. At least fifty police officers, including FBI agents, are searching overnight using search hounds for the heiress of the Alto's estates."The clips change to an image of me, taken from a few days back. I'm all dressed up in black, my hair curled and loose, held back from my face by a headband. It was taken back at the funeral. It's a bit grainy, but I'm unmistakable. A voice over has been added behind the video.
"A desperate search is underway for a seventeen-year-old that hasn't been seen in days. The last anybody had seen Delilah was late after Vita Alto's funeral. She'd left the service and drove home alone. The following morning she was scheduled for an appointment with her family lawyer where she was supposed to go over her late mother's personal belongings. But she never showed up."Another man appears onscreen.
"The amount of time between Delilah leaving the funeral and being contacted about her absence is huge. There's no telling how far she's gone whether she'd gone on her own or been taken."
"Delilah Alto is the daughter of Vita Alto, Sunset Valley's very own mayor of eight years before she joined retirement," the voice over returned.
"Delilah's father, Nickolas Alto, past away sixteen years ago, leaving her to everything the family owns. While no fowl play is believed to have taken place, officers aren't ruling anything out."The man from previously has appeared again.
"We don't have a person of interest, but we are looking at every angle and we will look at every angle multiple times."
"A beer, man," I hear next to me and I immediately close my laptop and pull the earphones from my ears. I spot the young man as I shove the laptop back into my knapsack. He sees me too. "Hey," he says while he pushes his long and straight hair from his sight, revealing his beetle-like eyes. "Can I buy you a drink?"
I shake my head. "No, thank you." I notice his eyebrows crease with confusion.
"Have I seen you before?"
"I don't think so."
He squints at me. "You around here?"
"No, from out of town. Heading back to Bridgeport." I take a sip from my water in hopes that he'll back off and walk away. He does no such thing. He takes the seat next to me once his drink comes.
"You sure?" He takes a sip of his own beverage. "You look familiar."
"As I say, all redheads look the same."
He smirks. "Do I look familiar to you?"
"I can't say that you do."
"Yuri Ivanov?" He motions with his free hand as if I'm expected to know who he is.
"I'm sorry."
"You aren't from around here, are you?" He doesn't let me answer. "Third Smis Pistols? Really?"
Now I smirk. "You're not going to let me leave until you tell me who the Third Smis Pistols are, right?"
"It's the name of my band. We're really big. I can't believe you haven't heard of us. Maybe if I play something, you'll recognize it. Come on."
He leads me to his table and tells me to take a front row seat. The people in front of the stage scream and yell for him, cheering as he makes his way on stage. Stage may too big of a name for it. Small platform with a guitar on it is better suited. Still, I can't deny that the people are excited for his arrival. He plays a song. He isn't half bad. Actually, he sounds very similar to Nickelback or maybe even Foo Fighters. When he's finished, Yuri comes and takes a seat by me. Girl's throw their books, pictures and tee shirts in front of him, asking him for his autograph. Some even expose some skin for him to sign.
"You have quite the following," I say once the crowd weeds out and everybody goes back to their business, order drinks and eat good food at a cheap price. "But tell me, if you're so big, how come you're here? Of all places, why Riverview?"
"This is where I grew up. This is home." He pauses. "And where are you from? You said Bridgeport, right?" I nod in response. "How are the upside down ducks?"
My brows fuse together. "What do you mean?"
"The duck joke," he answers me. "You know, why do ducks fly upside down? Because there's nothing worth crapping on? No?" When he sees me shake my head, he says, "Man, I thought everybody from Bridgeport knew that joke."
I look down at my hands. "Apparently not."
"Eer, don't worry about it." He nudges me in the arm. "Maybe you're just too young."
The hours wear on. We talk about mundane things. Yuri challenges me to a few games and I learn how much of a party animal he really is. He's had quite a few drinks and I have to be the one to tell the bartender to stop serving him. It's obvious Yuri can't handle anything more. Before he can say anything about my interference, he's dashing across the floor to the men's washroom. I try and speak with some of the other band members, yet they shrug and push me away. Supposedly it's normal for Yuri to drink his face off and pass out by the end of the night. Nobody seems very worried about him. So I take it upon myself to call him a cab.
Once I have set everything up and hang up my phone, I hear it. The audio that makes my heart drop to the pit of my stomach.
"A desperate search is underway for a seventeen-year-old that hasn't been seen in days. The last anybody had seen Delilah was late after Vita Alto's funeral. She'd left the service and drove home alone. The following morning she was scheduled for an appointment with her family lawyer where she was supposed to go over her late mother's personal belongings. But she never showed up."A few people stop and look my way and I immediately grab my bag and sling it over my shoulders. To try and convince everybody that all redheads look the same would take a lot of work and waste too much time. Too much of my valuable time. So, instead, I make my way through the aisle and head through the door. I swing around the back of the building in case anybody decides following me is a smart idea. There's a man in the dumpster looking for whatever he can salvage, though neither of us give each other more than a quick glance before returning to our business.
"Hey!" somebody calls at me from behind. "Hey, Bridgeport girl!"
It's Yuri. I know it is. He's slurring his words. But even so, I don't look back. I just keep moving. Suddenly I hear him yelp and a thump behind me. When I glance over my shoulder, he's tripped and fallen in the snow. He's now mumbling something and a part of me feels a need to get him back to his feet. If his band inside thinks this is normal behaviour of him, what's to push them to go find him? He might stay out in the cold for who knows how long. I grit my teeth and saunter back over to the man.
"Why did you lie to me?" he mumbles again. His eyes meet mine, blood shot and wavering. As we get him to his feet, it hits me before I can even see it coming. Both of his palms meet my chest and push me to the ground. "Why did you lie to me?!!"
I try to get up, but Yuri kicks snow in my face. My hands come to protect it. "What are you talking about?"
"I knew something was off when I mentioned the Bridgeport joke. I knew it!" Yuri tips from side to side slightly. "And then I saw you... on the tv... You're an Alto."
"Listen..." I start even if I haven't a clue where I'm going. Yuri's staggering towards me and even for how drunk he is, I don't know if I can get away from him. His blocky body seems to grow before my eyes and his gaze has torn through the mask I had hoped to keep on at least until the end of the night. "Yuri, listen to me--"
"An Alto?" he repeats. "You'd be worth a lot if I took you back." Yuri hiccoughs. "Or maybe I can get more for you in a different way."
"Yuri, get away from me!" I yell as he quickens his pace forward. He's not listening and as fast as I can I crawl backwards, trying to put as much space between the two of us. But I can't. The ground is slippery and it's as if the snow under me is trying to encase me for Yuri. Giving him easy access to me. I scream out right before he jumps on top of me. Sooner than I can yell again, his hand is over my mouth.
"Lie still!" he says under his breath. I twist my head instinctively, biting the side of his hand. When I think I've got one over on him, I am slapped across the side of the face so hard that I can barely keep the struggle. Everything around me is tilting from side to side and the sound of Yuri's voice has an echo to it. I swallow hard to keep my breakfast from making a reappearance and my body instantly goes limp. I can't move. Like a marionette whose strings have been cut. Yuri breathes heavily in my ear. I attempt again to call for help, but my voice is so hoarse that it barely makes it out. Yuri's weight digs my back into the cold earth... until it's gone almost instantly. I hear ruckus and then as I turn my head, I see Yuri hit the ground next to me. Somebody's yelling his head off, cursing and saying things I can't interpret. I stumble to my feet as fast as I can. The world is still turning this way and that, but I can see his face. I can see the man I thought I would never see again before I collapse into his arms and everything goes black.
