Word #258

Dec. 1st, 2012 10:21 pm
[identity profile] special-sista.livejournal.com in [community profile] 15_minute_fic
Don't look at the word until you are ready to write. When your fifteen minutes are up and you have completed your ficlet, you may either post it as a response here, or post a link to the ficlet in your own journal. If posting on your own journal, please hide the prompt word in some way (ie. under an LJ-cut) in order to avoid spoiling it for others.

Today's word is:  Alone

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on 2012-12-02 04:43 am (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] veritas-found.livejournal.com
Title: "Hermit"
Fandom/original: Original-ish. (It started as original, but somehow by the end the girl was acting like Faith (Buffy), so. . .?)
Rating: PG-13 / Teen (on account of one word)
Word count: 467


Two more steps to clear the cafeteria…

Down the sidewalk, around the back building…

Chin up, shoulders back, pace measured, hand steady…

Five steps to reach the room…

Door shut. Safety.

Except it’s not really, because they’re still there in her mind. Their words, meant in jest but cruel just the same, cutting at her like shards of glass. Echoing and echoing, even in the sanctuary of her room. There’s no real sanctuary, but at least here when her legs give out and she collapses in tears they can’t see it and use it as more fuel for their barbs.

But what do they expect? She can’t stay around them. Let them think it’s because she’s working. Safer that way. They don’t know it’s because of them. Well, because of her. Because she can’t stand to be around her anymore and every time she claims to be her best friend she just wants to punch her in the face. Because she knows the truth now, that they aren’t friends – and the girl’s very presence makes her ill.

And the one person she could go to…the one person she would have gone to…well, thanks to her he’s not even speaking to her anymore.

No, no, no…don’t blame that on her. The girl may have been the match, but really she dug her own grave there. And it’s too late now to make anything right, so no use crying over it.

Except that it still hurts. Not all the time, but on those days…when she sees him, or when something happens that would make a great joke…when she’s reminded, then it hurts. And then she remembers why. And then she hates the girl all over again.

He used to joke she worked too hard. That he would find her dead in the library stacks one day.

She could still see that being her fate, but he wouldn’t be the one to find her now. A janitor would, if anyone. She’s doing a bang-up job of cutting people out these days.

A hermit, huh?

Maybe the girl’s boy was right. Maybe she was turning into a hermit.

But maybe being alone was better. Maybe she liked it that way. Maybe it was safer than laying her heart in someone else’s hands just to have it stabbed again. Maybe she was better alone.

Knocking. She wipes her eyes and forces herself to stand, unfolding herself from the crumpled heap she’d fallen in. Opens the door to see the girl standing there, looking perfectly contrite and remorseful.

“Hey. You left pretty quick, and…well, I haven’t seen you around much lately. I know finals are coming up, but…is everything all right? You ok?” she asked, looking the image of the perfect little friend. Bitch.

“Five by five,” she said and closed the door.


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