Tags
Fiction, flash fiction, short stories, short story, story, writing
She sat in front of the mirror and bit her lip. Today was her big day. Possibly the biggest day of her life.
And so far, it was all going wrong.
Her alarm hadn’t gone off, and she had overslept. She had to look her best, so there was no time for breakfast, but her stomach was already rumbling. Her roommate, who had promised to help her get ready, was nowhere to be seen.
She sighed. She would have to do her own hair, as best as she could. She tugged at it anxiously. She had been planning a beautiful up-do, with her delicate blonde hair falling in curls from the top, but she couldn’t do it on her own. She’d have to do something simpler. She picked up her brush. She couldn’t do anything with her hair until she’d brushed it, after all. As usual, she closed her eyes and started with her fringe, then started to gently draw the brush through the rest of her hair. She opened her eyes and froze with a horrified gasp.
Her hair was going green. Bright, almost neon green.
She dropped the brush. A green patch spread out across the carpet where it landed.
She suddenly realised what was going on. She felt like crying. Her mysteriously absent roommate must have done it all. Her graduation was ruined. She felt like crying.
“How could she?!”
Abruptly, something inside her clicked. Her eyes narrowed. Her jaw hardened. She picked up the brush and pulled it through the rest of her hair. She opened a drawer in her dresser, found two black ribbons and tied her hair into pigtails.
She smiled as she opened the wardrobe. As expected, the pretty pink dress she had been planning to wear had been sabotaged. A dark stain was smeared across the front of it, positioned for maximum embarrassment. She shook her head knowingly, and reached past it for a long, fitted black dress. From a drawer, she pulled a bright green scarf that just happened to match her new hair colour. She slipped into the dress and tied the scarf loosely around her waist.
She painted her eyes with black eyeliner, and carefully applied black lipstick, a stark contrast against her pale white skin.
She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.
If they were going to call her a witch anyway, then she was going to be the best damn witch there was.
“Look out world,” she whispered. “Halloween Smith is coming for you.”
© Kari Fay
Quite liked this one — the range of emotions from hope and excitement through disappointment and betrayal and finally to revenge. Could make for an interesting longer work.