WARNING: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, STRONG LANGUAGE & CHARACTER DEATH
word count: 4,708
title: the eighth child
entry for: contest 1!
nafragous , weavability
iT'S SO LATE I'M SO SORY BUT IT IS NOW FINISHED, THANK YOU SO MUCH AND I HOPE YOU CRY-
i mean, enjoy :))
• • •
"skip town! what do you mean? it's our senior year, you can't do that!"
"i have to."
"but at least explain why! i'm losing my best friend here, i deserve an explanation."
"i..."
"tell me. please, vienna. or else you lose me over keeping a secret, and i really don't want you to do that."
"i killed someone."
• • •
Sipping her coffee silently, she eyed everyone from the back of the room. Day 12. Her egg white acrylics clacked against the not-so-stainless steel of her thermos calculatingly, as her hazel eyes scanned all the little worlds, crammed into an even littler classroom. There was the one couple inconspicuously making out behind a backpack, their legs intertwined. There was the other couple where the boy's girlfriend was being balanced on his knee, as they were being berated by the boy's best friend. There were the superstars of the class, whom everyone respectable looked up to as academic gods. And there were the athletic superstars, who were shouting about some irrelevant, American football player completing some irrelevant, American move and winning the game of an irrelevant, American sport. Oh, please, these boys didn't even know real football.
"How's hating the world going?" A voice sweet as caramel giggled, claiming the seat next to the silent girl. Carmel Rice. 10 minutes, 57 seconds late. 58, 59, you get the idea.
"It's not hating," This voice was a lot less musical. It was more... simplistic. Simply indescribable as to how blatant it was, as it always was. Voices that conveyed too much emotion were dangerous voices, upon themselves and to others. "It's examining distastefully. There's a difference." She took another sip of her chocolate-mocha coffee.
"Well, if it isn't my two favorite ice creams," A male voice spoke this time, appearing behind Carmel with the dorkiest smile on his face. Vienna rolled her eyes at the blatantly obvious heart eyes that he flashed to her best friend. "And how are you sweeties doing today?" Though, it was quite clear that the question was intended only for Carmel to answer. Vienna shook her head and sighed, mentally rolling her eyes at the phenomenon that was teenage hormones, or as most people call it, love.
"I'm doing just fine, Tomás," Carmel chirped in response perkily, and Vienna chose that moment to zone out of the real world, and come back to the realm of her own head. It was far more intriguing than hearing the qualms of raging hormones versus fear of regret.
At approximately 2:31, school would end, despite the official time being 2:30. The bells had not been working, though no one really noticed. Nor bother to fix the one minute difference, though it aggravated Vienna. And at approximately 2:56, she would arrive home. And by 2:58, she would be in her room, a green apple in her hand as she began her homework. Despite the mountains of it, she will be done by 3:42. At 3:46, her mother will call her down for the first day of her... job. Vienna shuddered slightly. Not an internship for the C.I.A, or a planner for escape rooms but a... a babysitter. She will spend approximately two minutes complaining about how normalcy is simply a device used by society to enslave the common public. However, at 4:57, she will arrive at the house of the child, whom will open it at 5:00. Sharp. She had heard they were punctual, and expected the rumors to gleam true. At 10:00 pm, the parents of the child shall return, and Vienna will reach home at 10:12. Then, she will read yet three more of Sherlock Holmes' stories, completing them at 10:26. The rest of the night until midnight, sharp, shall be spent in her miniature lab before she rests for the night, prepared to awaken at 4:30 a.m. tomorrow.
