A/N/Disclaimer: So, there's going to be a Flash Fiction Night at my library. Under 1,000 words, poetry or short story, and you get to read it in the theater. I wrote this for that. (Otherwise, I'll use one of my poems.) I need some insight. I'm not sure if this is my best, mainly since I cut and hacked at it until I got under 1,000 words. I'm also not sure if the tenses are right (I'm horrible with that). Um. I've been working on it--getting rid of words, re-wording things--so much I don't think I can be objective anymore. So anyone willing to tell me what they think? If so, keep reading. (And please don't flip if it's not top-notch!)
SIDE NOTE: This piece of work in its new edited state is thanks to Bolshevik, who caught my many mistakes, and so is the fresh-and-shiny title. *claps*
#
TOPHAT
Codie padded to her window. “How’s the pretty bird doing today?”
she called. She finished putting on her coat, then looked out as light washed in. Nothing.
There was one thing that set her life apart from Anne down the street. There had always been a raven sitting on the holly bush outside of her window. It came by at five o’clock sharp and left at seven. She’d timed it.
All she could do was stare, Tophat's absence was beguiling.
“Code, your cereal is getting soggy!” her mother called.
She sighed; faint worry eating at her. She pushed it aside, “Why’d you pour the milk?”
“It’s the only incentive I have to get you to come and see your mother.”
She rolled her eyes, then glanced back at the window once more--he probably died, or was ate by a cat.
The thought process made her shudder. She’d got to thinking of it as her raven over the years. She’d even given it a name--Tophat.
She narrowed her eyes. If I find feathers, that blasted half-lion of Mrs. Thompson’s is getting its tail handed to it.
#
“Finally,” her mother exclaimed.
“I came down right after you called.” Codie frowned, then sat down on one of the stools. She glanced at her half-sister, Chels. They looked absolutely nothing alike. She felt a ping of annoyance--at her mother, not the innocent seven-year-old.
“Did you study for that science test last night?” Her mother tipped her head.
Codie swallowed a mouthful of soggy grain hoops while she nodded. “Yeah, for an hour,” she said, before cramming down another spoonful.
Chels giggled. “You eat like Mister Frank did.”
A tingle started down Codie’s spine as she watched her step-dad cringe. That caused another frown.
She finished her cereal. “Mom, can I have another bowl, how 'bout some bacon?” she asked, whilst kicking her backpack.
“Do you want to be as overweight as your father?”
She opened her mouth. She closed her mouth. “No.” Her mother turned, showing off her skinny, bony back.
Codie snatched an apple out of the fruit basket and crammed it into her coat pocket. “Bye” She gulped down her orange juice and walked off.
She heard a goodbye from her sister; no one else said anything.
#
At the school stairs, she ran into a former friend. “Hello,” she said, looking anywhere but at the blonde.
“Hi,” Lynn answered. “You know, a group of--”
“You kissed Joseph--step aside.”
She obeyed, hugging her pink coat closer, and Codie walked past without another word.
I really need to find better human beings. Friends kissing your boyfriend--vice, versa.
She shrugged as she hit the rest of the crowd. She imagined the people as fat cows moving to slaughter; the guards the wavers of the plastic bags. An amusing image.
She just tilted her head to one guard and wandered through the doors, sound lost in her ears. Voices loud, swears hissed, someone’s books tumbling down.
#
The second she reached Tawny’s locker she was shoulder-checked by a much heavier person.
She exhaled. “What is it, Maybelle?”
“It’s May,” the older girl growled.
Codie looked her over. Black clothes, white cloth-belt, ruby-red lipstick. She looked like a teen out of a club scene in a horror flick.
“Sure, Burns.”
May's brow wrinkled, and then she pushed Codie. Her shoulder blades hit the locker. Slam.
“Ouch,” she joked as she coughed. May’s hand twisted in the cloth over her stomach. “Gonna ask me for my lunch money now?”
“Well, I gotta buy liquor somehow,” May said. “Cough it up.”
“Seriously?” Codie’s eyebrows rose.
“Cough it up,” May repeated.
She rolled her eyes and pulled out a dollar bill.
“That’s it?”
“You think I’d continue to bring money for lunch with you being some normal-antagonist in an after-school special?”
The kick to the shin caught Codie off-guard, she dropped like a bag of rocks. Thud.
May grinned. “Trust me, I’m not normal--or maybe I’m too normal.” May seemed to mockingly ponder it.
Then Codie saw just a flicker at the edge of her vision--she tried to focus but that ruined everything. A face was overlying May’s.
Paler skin, different from May’s light toffee, blacker hair, eyes blue, a darker shade of green eyes.
And there’s red in the hair--creeping from a deep gash on the forehead. A deep gash.
She felt bile sneak onto her tongue. “Oh my gosh.”
“What?” May and other-May look at her.
“May, how many times do I have to tell you to stop messing with my girl,” Tawny said, her voice coming from somewhere. Codie can’t look away from May’s face.
“What’s wrong with her?” May asked, fists clenched.
“What do you mean--” Tawny inquired.
Codie didn’t hear the rest. Up and running; flying down the hall. Past security--yards down the sidewalk--plopped down, panting; her head in her hands, sneakers on the asphalt.
“No, no, no,” she muttered. “What was that? Who--”
“Are you all right?”
She froze, every muscle locking. She wet her lips. “Who’s asking?”
“Me.”
Her gaze focused. Feet--bare, size twelve. Maybe. Dark jeans and the black and neon-blue of a band t-shirt. She saw his face saw among others, shifting under the surface. She blinked hard. Then she saw his outstretched arm; Tophat perched on his wrist.
Her mouth went dry.
“You look upset.” His expression pensive, curious, but she saw other people. A girl, bloodied; a woman’s face, lax; a man, half his face completely--
She doesn’t respond, can’t, so she doesn’t. She sent two fingers down Tophat’s blue-black feathers instead. She noticed the crumbs he/she was eating and every line of the boy’s hand.
“Don’t scare it off,” the boy whispered.
“I won’t,” she said. “It’s mine.”
A spark lit his irises. “We should talk.”
She nodded.
“It’s a special bird you have here,” he whispered.
She glanced sidelong at his face. Everything else has gone. “Definitely.”
#
A/N: So that's basically it. If you have any better ideas for a title, that's welcome, too. Any feedback is welcome, but please, if you just hate it, think twice about commenting, if you would. Still comment if you want, but maybe it's not worth your time. Thanks.
