Short Story Collection

✘ Red ✘

"Hey-ya, Poppy! How ya doin'? Still as insecure as ever?" The voice crawled into my ears, and I bunched my hands into fists.

The hallway was empty; just me and the world and my worst nemesis.

"G'day, Nichole," I replied, my teeth gritted.

I brushed my hair out of my eyes, the act giving me something to do. I still hadn't turned around. I knew she was right behind me. But I couldn't bring myself to face her.

I shoved my last book (my maths book) in my locker and slammed it shut, my fingers whizzing the combo passed, and I heard the soft, secure CLICK as the padlock clunked shut.

Finally, my hands tightening on my backpack's straps, I whirled around to face her.

She swept her glistening gold hair out of her perfectly smooth face. Talk about luck. Fifteen years old this year and no acne.

I, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. Pimples? Definitely. Blackheads? Too many to count. I was plain and boring. I was background noise, irrelevant to anyone's future. But Nichole Jacques was the complete opposite. Everywhere she went, crowds parted like the Red Sea. Every head turned her way, and instantly, everyone fell under her spell.

Now do you get the kinda girl she is?

The kinda classical, classy bully I have to put up with?

"Pops, you gotta do something about your hair," she grinned manically. "It looks like a rat's nest."

I ignored her, exhaling softly. "I'm going home. Hope you have a nice day."

I tried to be cheery.

I tried to pretend like everything was fine.

I tried.

I pushed passed her and was about to exit when she crossed the line.

"Yeah yeah, run home to your pity pals! What are their names anyway? Was it... Emily and Sophia?"

I stopped dead.

She could see I was tensing. So instead of beating the cranberries out of her right now, I decided to let her off with a notice.

"Please, Jacques. Leave me alone."

I resumed walking.

"I bet they're as pathetic as you. Maybe more. No wait, that's impossible! But honestly, I bet they're as ugly and pitiful as you."

Her words squirmed and crawled like frost centipedes into my ears.

Did she just -

It took a minute for my brain to register what she had just said.

SHE DID.

I reeled around, baring myself on her. She looked at me and laughed harder.

I grabbed my bag and threw it against the wall.

"No one," I grabbed one of her wrists.

"Let me go!" She screamed.

"Insults," I yanked her towards me.

"My friends."

All I saw was red.

All I heard was my mind repeating the same sentence over and over: She hurt your friends. Make her pay. 

She hurt your friends. Make her pay.

She hurt your friends. 

Make. 

Her.

Pay.

I couldn't see what was happening, but I felt my fists slamming against skin and I heard her screams of pain.

When I finally regained my sight, I gasped at the mess I had made.

Her entire arm was COVERED it bruises and red marks. There wasn't a SINGLE SQUARE INCH that wasn't normal, untouched skin. 

She was shaking violently, and she stared in horror at her arm.

My mind was still reeling. My ears were ringing. I herd her look up into my eyes and scream.

I stood still, trying to clear my mind. What was going on?

I fell to my knees, a strange sensation brewing. It spread from the middle of my heart all over my entire body.

I felt my mind warp and bend, like it was trying to morph into something inhuman.

Suddenly, I heard a voice, far away.

"What's happening?"

I ignored it. I stared down at my right palm, smiling as if I was admiring a new pet.

I closed my fingers into a fist, and when I opened my palm again, a small, orange orb had formed.

I grinned. The orb grew larger, a strange mist surrounding it.

I'm not sure what happened next. All I remember was my brain documenting down this sentence:

A smile spread itself onto my face. I had power. I could finally make a difference.

I rained down all hell on Nichole.