White as a Sheet

Chapter 2

"Rebellion is sweet!" I laugh, scrunching the back of my messy curly bun of bright red hair.

My Converses make slight 'padding' sounds as I strut along the street, bordered by suburbant houses and luscious trees shading the footpath.

"You really shouldn't have done that, Hani." Clarice goes on, struggling to keep up with me with her handbag swinging. Will she seriously ever give up with her nagging? Probably not - best friends unfortunately aren't like that. "One day I'm not gonna' be there to bail you out!"

"Whatevs." I smile devilishly, retrieving my red compact mirror from my right dress pocket, along with my lipstick.

I flip it open in the lovely summer sunlight, and apply another layer of bright red.

It matches my startling shade of hair colour and the blush on my high cheekbones. My skin's averagely pale and my eyelashes are curling out in long tendrils, coated in mascara.

The way I look probably shocks most people - especially my parents (cough cough) - but it resembles my 'out-there' personality!

Satisfied, I snap the compact shut and put it back in my dress.

The dress is pretty short I must say, and sky blue. It has short sleeves and sort of looks like it's tucked in at the waist so it resembles a shirt and skirt put together. My legs are bare.

Where as Clarice, she's just normal. Normal straight brown hair, normal face, normal clothes. She's very pretty, but that's what everyone expects. That's what everyone loves to see, and if you step out of line - say your hair's a bit frizzy or you're wearing cheap or un-stylish shoes - then bam! You're seen as uncool.

Me and Clarice are still the best of friends though; We have been since that day in grade 7 when I got into a fight with Benjamin, the pig-faced bogan. I seem to recall it being about vegetarianism... Ah, good times.

"Was it really necessary with all those... erm... carcasses?" She says.

"Perfectly necessary."

"What about the underwear?"

"Definitely."

"The makeup?"

"Yep."

"How about all that stuff with the candy store?"

"Ah-huh."

"C'mon! It was not!"

"If you don't like how I roll, you better get out of my way."

She rolls her eyes at my usual lame catchphrase.

"Everything was completely necessary! It got the feedback I was wanting. Did you see the looks on their faces?! Priceless!"

"But the thing with the butcher... He might even have to undergo therapy after what you did!"

"Serves him right! Murderer!" I cry. I'm a strict vegetarian if you hadn't picked up on it. "It was all in his karma! I was just helping karma out a little bit... Besides, I gave the money that they lost back!"

"Oh sure, sure. You're probably on the news as we speak!"

"I hope I look good." I wink.

We walk along in silence until we arrive at the apartment.

My legs ache by the time I get to the fifth flight of stairs. Grunting, we get to our level and I wipe a small bead of sweat from my forehead. We collapse against the wall.

"You... need... to... get over... your claustrophobia..." she says between gasps for air.

"Lifts... just... creep me... out... okay?"

"If I... have to climb... those bloody... stairs again... I'm... gonna'... cram you... into a lift myself!"

"Well... it's... not my fault... that you're unfit."

After she rolls her eyes and we recover from the exhaustion, we turn into our hallway that has lights in the ceiling and a grey-blue carpet. It stretches quite a long way. Each of the many doors is blue and I giggle to myself quietly. I run to a door and press my back against it, grinning.

Clarice turns around with a 'what-now' expression. It takes her a second before she realizes - my dress fits exactly in with the colour of the door. I'm perfectly camouflaged.

"You're so immature." she says, a smile playing on her lips.

"I'm not immature, I'm observant." I reply innocently. I peel myself off the door and follow Clarice to our flat - number 38B.

I watch her as she pulls out her keys, with the cherry keychain I gave her to celebrate getting her drivers license, one she got as a souvenir from Hawaii, the key for her car, the key for her parents place, the one for ours, and some other ones that I have no clue about on it. It jingles as if it's happy to be home, as she moves her arm up to the lock. She slides it in, turns it until it clicks and pulls it out, twisting the golden handle.

It swings open to reveal our little flat. I smile warmly. Home sweet home.

I must admit, it's not much, but I adore it.

My eyes look down at the floor - I never particularly fancied that periwinkle colour. But the yellow walls I love! Everyone knows yellow is the 'happy' colour of the rainbow.

I waltz into the lounge room and fall back onto the faux leather couch, taking my Converses off and throwing them near the coffee table.

"What shall we have for tea, Han-i?" Clarice says in a sing-song voice as she enters the kitchen.

"I'm thinking pasta? How 'bout you?" I strip my socks off and rub my tender toes.

"Mhm, sounds good to me. Then we've got to go to the library to pick up some books. Don't think that just because it's the weekend, that you don't have to study for uni!"

"You sound like my mother." I scoff. "I left home for a reason."

She laughs in response and I can hear the sound of the fridge shutting.

My right arm reaches out to the television remote and I press the red power button. There's a beep and the screen lightens as I begin flick through the channels until the 6 o'clock news appears.

Thats when I stop dead.

My jaw drops open and my heart skips a beat.

It can't be... But it is...

My throat manages to gulp in all the shock and all I can think of is one word:

"Shit."