Second Skin

By Clare Castleberry

Brooke seems to have it all under control: a decent boyfriend, a job as a model and writer in Los Angeles--but her life spirals into a dark vortex of drugs and depression when she realizes how her agency deals with models who aren't picture perfect. A harrowing novelette of murder, drugs and mental illness.
Readers of horror, transgressive, and dark stories will enjoy this, but be forewarned that this story includes drug use and insight into mental illness, so it may be triggering for some. 18+.
Excerpt:
"The car purred and the intensity of the drugs soared. It was like diving into a pool of rich, warm Jell-O. Putting my hands on the wheel and keeping them there was quite the task; it felt like my elbows were being pulled down to the floorboard. I drove forward; at least, I think I did. Tail lights and headlights blurred together to create brilliant colors and auras. I pulled up to a stop sign and waited for it to turn green. It did. I didn’t realize until much later that stop signs don’t turn green.
I didn’t pull over until my breathing got labored. I let my head fall back into the headrest and slowly sucked in air, but it never quite seemed to fill my lungs. I felt like I was breathing through a pinhole. I began to panic and tried to scream at the cars passing by, but the only thing I heard emerge was a faint rattle.
The panic soon eased into a mellow, peaceful feeling. I began to let go. I dove further into the pool of rich, liquid nothingness. This time, I let the skin fall off of me, a scaly remembrance of the film and the corruption that had followed me here."

Trigger warnings (please do not read if easily triggered):

Abuse
Anxiety
Blood/gore/graphic injuries
Body shaming
Bullying
Death/murder/drowning
Depression
Drugs/addiction
Hallucinations
Manipulation/toxic relationships
Paranoia
Rape/sexual abuse
Sex/slut shaming
Trauma

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clare Castleberry
• Release date: May 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370413836

Clare Castleberry

Clare Castleberry grew up in the swamps, which fueled her imagination with stories and left lots of time for horror movies and books. Clare is currently a librarian and writer, and when she’s not traveling to strange lands, lives with her partner and cat in New Orleans.

Book preview

Second Skin

By Clare Castleberry

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2016 by Clare Castleberry

All Rights Reserved

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The photographer asked if I knew the other model they found off the freeway in Cerritos. She had been riding in a car and had either been pushed out or had tried to escape. By the time police arrived, the body had been reduced to pulpy, unrecognizable pieces. Other motorists thought they were running over road kill.

I left the shoot early.

Back home, I stared at the heavily made-up person in the mirror. Fuck, I said to my reflection. Mascara ran down my face in angry, jet-black tears. No matter what I used, I couldn’t seem to get all that makeup off. When you’re a model, this is what you do. You practically need a knife to scrape all the shit off your face. I brushed out my hot-rolled curls.

I even remember writing it down in my journal: it was my dream, to be out in California, maybe Malibu, and be a writer and have a hot guy and a nice house and a dream car, maybe red or black.  But I had a white hatchback, I lived in Venice in a one-bedroom apartment, and was a writer and modeled on the side, and I had an okay guy who I guess I sort of liked.  Sometimes.

Only thing was, I really didn’t know what I was going to do once I got all that stuff anyway.  Did it really make people happy?

Sometimes at night I would drive the white hatchback down the Pacific Coast Highway and go all the way out to Malibu.  And I would just sit there in the car, staring at the waves.  At the vastness.  At the emptiness. Then I would smoke part of a bowl, go home, get drunk on cheap two-dollar wine or bourbon or whiskey