Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

2. Girl

I see a girl with bouncy, curly red hair. Like candy apple. She notices my gaze and stares back. There's a scar running from the tip of her lip to beginning of her collar-bone.

She smirks. "Looking at something?"

I avert my glance.

After a while, she says, "It's okay. I have a scar and it sure ain't invisible."

"I noticed."

"It's rude to stare at people, you know."

"Then sorry."

"Apology not accepted." She pretends not to see the surprise on my face. Who is she? If she stays out of my way, I'll stay out of hers. "But you can make it up to me."

"I don't have to make anything up to you."

She leans in closer. So close, our knees are almost touching. In a voice so low, she whispers, "I know what you did."

A chill runs up my spine. "You don't know anything."

"If you say so," she whispers. In one swift motion, she sits straight in her seat. Her posture straight, she copies down all the sums on the board --sums that most mathematicians spend years learning.

I focus my eyes to my paper. It's blurry. No matter how many times I stare at the blackboard, I can't digest anything that's written.

Inevitably, my eyes flicker to the seat three down from me.

She's gone.

More writing by this author

Blogs on This Site