Tori's Short Stories

Mia

For a while I had a group of friends that did writing competitions with me. We had a prompt set and a week to complete it. Here's one of the products:

Every morning, she wrote down another reason not to nuke the planet. Her counselor had suggested that writing down positive things would help her with depression. So far, she was not feeling improved.

"Mia, baby, are you sure you don't want to come with me today?” Her mother inquired.

Mia nodded soberly, motioning to her bed, “I'd rather stay here.”

Her mother sighed and nodded. Mia heard the SUV roar to life and pull out of the drive.

She couldn't tell if it had been 20 minutes or 4 hours when she heard her mom pull back up. “Honey could you please come downstairs?”

Mia groaned, but unhappily complied. Her mother didn't ask much of her. She trudged down to the living room and looked at her mother expectantly.

“Mia please, I want you to keep an open mind,” and she pulled out a new pair of sneakers.

“What?”

Her mother smiled and motioned downward. It was true, her old shoes were falling apart, quite literally.

“I thought maybe getting out and running, like you used too, might perk you up a bit.” she admitted sheepishly.

“Perk. Me. Up.” Mia growled. “What do you think I'm feeling? Crying over some break up?” Her mouth twisted into a grimace. “I'm depressed mom! Maybe you don't believe me but you better believe the doctor that's writing me these prescriptions!” Her body shuddered, and she fell back onto their couch. She looked up to see her mom crying, walking away from her. “No... mom..” she said quietly, “I'm sorry.” She sighed at the empty room.

Eyeing the sneakers, Mia moved closer. Hurt flashed through her again as she looked at them. Her mother knew her too well. They were light grey with a blue stripe, her two favorite colors. With a lump in her throat she kicked her tennis shoes off and slipped into the new ones. They felt good.

With a determined air she scribbled a message on a sticky note: Gone running, be home before dark.

She grabbed her earbuds and ipod and set out the door. She avoided eye contact as she jogged down the sidewalk, on a very familiar path. She wound through residential neighborhoods, barely registering anything except the wind on her face and the music pounding in her ears. She paused to gaze at a patch of wildflowers, swaying in the humid breeze. Sweat rolled down her forehead.

A few minutes later she found herself at the pond where she used to hang with… She shook her head. This was not the time.  She sat down on the lonely bench and watched the ducks flapping around. A shiny object at the edge of the water caught her attention and she sat up on the bench.

Unable to figure out what it was, she stood and kneeled down on the bank. A scowl covered her face. It was a green beer bottle. “I hate litterers,” she muttered, making her way over to the trash can, but she stopped short. A small detail in the bottle had caught her eye. Part of it was cracked, and the small fracture lines had filled out the shape of a heart, a broken one.

She felt her own broken heart shiver, and she reconsidered her decision. Instead she went into the bathroom and cleaned it off. When she came back out, she held it up to the sun. Emerald light illuminated the broken heart, making it that much more potent. A knot rose in her throat. Her favorite color….. she stopped the train of thought before it got very far. Anger rose inside of her. No, I can think of her. She was my best friend. Her name was Alicia. She died last year because…. Nausea rolled over her as she pictured the scene.

“Hey whore, I'm ready to talk about Daniel,” Mia stormed into her best friend's room like every other time. They didn't even call anymore. They basically shared parents. Alicia was laying face down on her twin bed, her cozy room chillingly cold. “Ally?” she said as she gently shook her friend, “wake up sleepyhead.”

Mia snatched her hand back from the cool, stiff body. “Alicia?” she asked again, her voice high and trembling. She forcefully turned the girl over, revealing her slack face and lifeless eyes, as well as a pill bottle.

Mia staggered back and screamed…

The rest was a mess of crying and talking to authorities and the funeral, all times when life seemed worthless to Mia. That was her best friend, since 3rd grade, what was left? They had survived everything together. She had known she was a little down but… to do that?

Mia came back to the present, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. She grabbed the bottle and sprinted back the way she came, dodging passers bys. Passing the same patch of wildflowers, she picked several and set them in the bottle, a makeshift vase. She set off again, turning a few roads before her own house.

Not far down the side road was a small two story white house, with an ivy filled trellis on the side. With practiced skill she scaled it, forcing up the window at the top. Mia ducked inside, finding herself in the exact same room of her nightmares for the last year.

Somehow, it wasn't as scary as she had remembered. Nothing had changed at all. Clothes still laid on the floor, the bed unmade. It looked like it's occupant had just ran down for a quick breakfast. Sunlight streamed through the windows, and generally made it feel warm and cozy.  With a dazed expression Mia set the makeshift vase on her friend's desk. The light shined through and displayed an emerald green broken heart on the hardwood floor. She found that the green glass complimented her decor quite nicely.