Creative Writing Collection

Blue Fabric

       Blue.

       My bandana is blue.

       It has black and white swirling patterns with gold fringe. It used to be daddy’s, when he would go out to round up the cows or when he’d go into town.

       I use it, now, as my cover. T’hide half my face when I’m committin’ crimes. They don’t know what I look like; they think I’m a man. It’s not easy to hide my bust, but with a slightly oversized shirt or dark leather jacket, I was no longer Annie.

       I was known as Rattlesnake — my whip tends to be a quick thing. Ten strikes, that’s all it took. My ‘wanted’ posters are colored with a special dye to point out my daddy’s bandana — my reward was $1000. None of us wear the thing around town. The little ones question its existence, and the eldest sibling after me knows not to mess with it.

       Mama cleans it, refurbishes it; makes sure that blue fabric never fades out or gets soiled. I keep my hair unkempt, unwashed, and relatively short. It was gross at first, but I got used to it. And when I became Annie again, my hair was neatly pulled up into a small bun and hidden under a womanly hat.

       With my blue bandana on the cold Tombstone nights, the sheriff ’ll find himself with whip markings the next day. Hey, I take pleasure in my work. Venomous, cruel, inhumane, sick, snake… I got used to those.

       So long as I’ve got daddy with me, I’d be fine.

       That’s what he had always told me.