“Do you think it’s fake?” Shanna focused on the neon green moving in the breeze.
Dena’s eyes focused beyond the grass on one Ms. Leroy. She was tall, blonde and, as their mom said, “100% plastic”.
“Like a barbie.” Dena whispered.
Shanna tilted her head while staring at the stiff blades. No matter how she turned, tilted or squinted the grass looked nothing like a barbie.
“I don’t see it.”
Dena grabbed at her non-existent chest.
“But don’t you see? One day I’ll have some just like that.”
“Are you sure?” Shanna never thought her sister liked plants all that much.
PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio
Friday Fictioneers courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Word Count: 100
I used a first line generator for today. The line was “The night was dark and stormy.”
“The night was dark and stormy.”
That’s how these stories are supposed to start. They shouldn’t begin with butterflies and rainbows but life is a mystery, just like Ofelia. She was everything I wasn’t. Tall and beautiful with long legs and short choppy dark hair. Her parents even let her wear makeup and have more than one ear piercing. She could paint her nails black and her clothes …
The closeted goth inside of me died a little every time I saw her. She was perfection.
Next to her I didn’t have to be Danielle the red headed step child with glasses and freckles. I didn’t have to be the weirdo who couldn’t wear makeup or have earrings like the other girls. I didn’t have to explain my long hair or my modest attire.
Beside Ofelia I wasn’t my mother’s demon spawn daughter that needed saving. I didn’t have to worry about my CD’s being broken or my books being burned. I didn’t have to explain my art, my dragons or my demons.
To Ofelia they were all infinitely “cool”. Next to Ofelia I could fade into the light that surrounded her darkness. She protected me, whether she knew it or not.
Perhaps that’s the only way to explain why we were digging a hole in the woods on a humid July night; or how we came to the point of burying a body together.
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