Faces In The Closet Novels & Stories

“My mom. Was an actress and she kept almost all of her costumes. She was in some off broadway play where they dressed her as a pudgy boy. She had a wig and this band thing that went around her waist, kind of like a corset, that made her waist wider, so that it camoflauged her curves and made her look chunky. It will make me look thicker. I am hoping that will work in making me appear more boyish.” “It might.” Eddy concedes, “but I would have to see it on you. Where are her costumes at?” “In a storage building in Queens, where Fred put all of her stuff after she died.” Dani tells him bitterly. “Well, let's go.” Eddy tell her, grabbing her hand. He pulls her behind him, barely giving her time

Just then, a young, stout woman made her way out of the closet with a black dress in her hands. “You must be Sky. It's so nice to meet you.” Astrid waved at her with a smile. “Oh, my goodness. You're the lady who caught Mr Titan's eye! I've always wanted to see your face. Not many of us are this lucky. You're so much prettier in person.” Sky gushed loudly, clapping her hands. “Excuse her behaviour, ma'am. Sky's new here, so she doesn't exactly know how to act when she's excited.” Mary said, not hiding the glare she sent in Sky's direction.

Christian said, waving toward the wall. He led me into a huge walk-in closet, and I could already see a bathroom at the far end. It was more soft tones and an unbelievably thick and soft fuzzy rug under my toes. “Oh! I’m filthy,” I said, cringing at my feet. The carpet was a white cream and I’d tracked mud in, so had they. “Someone will clean it tomorrow, don’t worry about it baby,” Vance said, pulling me close and kissing my neck. Basically three-quarters of the closet was mine and then they had a corner with a few rows of drawers. They don't wear much clothes and they don’t wear shoes. Still so weird.

He was seated on the opposite end of four older-looking men, all clad in a similar robe-like piece of clothing with a shade of dark and red. The noticeable feature that could differ all four men was their faces which had no way of looking the same. The casual outfit of a button-down shirt and faded jeans made him stand out from the four men who had different reactions to staring at him. One had complete neutrality, another looked calm, the next one exuded creepiness, and the last looked a bit worried.

Ella I stare into my closet like it’s personally offended me. Which is ridiculous. It’s a closet. A collection of clothes hanging on cheap plastic hangers. It shouldn’t have the power to make my stomach hurt. And yet here I am. Frozen. Unable to make a decision. On one side are the hoodies. The familiar ones. The oversized ones. The ones that let me disappear. The ones that have gotten me through years of hallways, lunch periods, group projects, and every other social nightmare high school has to offer.

he grunted, as if I were an underpaid stagehand interrupting his rehearsal. Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. I slipped inside, eyes fixed firmly on the top shelf where the bleach usually sat, doing my best not to step on any discarded clothing or… fluids. The closet was narrow, the air thick with the sour-sweet tang of too many overlapping perfumes, and I had to brush past them more than once just to reach the mop bucket. Each time, I felt a prickle under my skin, like standing too close to a live wire of hormones. “Close the door on your way out,” Fitch drawled lazily, his voice low, commanding—almost predatory. The kind of tone that made half the girls here swoon and the other half sharpen

Up close, she looked older than me by a few years, maybe early thirties but it wasn’t just age that set us apart. It was the way she moved. Because if Lauren knew Enzo and still walked around here this calm, then she knew exactly what kind of man he was. I swallowed. She must have noticed my wandering gaze because she tilted her head slightly. “There are others in the walk-in closet,” she said casually. I blinked. “The… what?” She laughed softly and gestured toward the far wall. “The closet. It’s behind that panel door. You probably didn’t see it when you woke up.”

I slip the hanger back on the rack and move on. Halfway down the room I find a small, flat screen attached to the wall with a single button beneath it. Curious, I give the button a push. The screen instantly flashes to life. "Good evening, Ms. Cunningham," says a computerized female voice. Whoa. They have computerized closets in this place? A series of symbols flash across the screen. "What would you like to wear?" the voice prompts. I reach out and tentatively tap the icon shaped like a dress.

I could make as many keys as I want from the engraving but no one can take my single body out of my grave if he finds out. He returned to the room and was looking around. Suddenly his eyes stopped on the closet door. He started walking towards the closest and in no time the closet door opened and Zander barged in. He looked frantically everywhere inside the closet. His face turned to the column of clothes behind which I was hiding. He walked to it like a predator. I gulp down my nervousness . One big hand removed the clothes in front of my face. I looked up and gave him my best thousand Megawatt smile which he returned with one of his tight lip smiles.

A smile widens across my face as I watch the effects my touches have on them. A faint breeze from the AC has me glancing down at my exposed chest. The events from yesterday flash in my mind, and a blush begins to heat my skin. After spending only one day with them, they had seen more of my body than anyone else. I shuffle down the bed slowly. I need to find a shirt and clear my head. My feet touch the soft carpet in silence. I open the door to the room-like closet. Half the closet has women's clothes in it, and I smile. I wonder if they will mind me borrowing their relative's clothes.