The Girl With The Flaxen Hair

Chapter 1

Footsteps slapped along the snow-shoveled concrete, rushing past front yards and mailboxes. The yards looked as though someone dumped white powder everywhere. Mailboxes almost frozen shut. Porches had cleared off for shipped packages. The morning sun shining bright above the houses and reflecting off the white crystallized powder.

Then there was a second set of footsteps, gaining on the first. Like a cheetah running for its prey. Black boots made a sudden turn up a set of steps leading onto the front porch of a two story house. The brick accents of the white house stuck out like specks of neon in a crowd of monotone colors. A gloved hand reached out for a golden doorknob on a red door, only to find it locked. Braided blond hair reaching the center of the young woman's back whipped to the side as she looked for another way in. Her short bursts of breath created mini clouds.

The man coming for her was turning the corner and coming straight for her. She then ran across the porch to the outside of the house, grabbed a chair, and used the object to jump over the fence, making sure to kick it out of the way before crossing over completely.

Resting her hands on her knees, the pale peach colored woman took a second to catch her breath, gasping for air.

"You know that's not gonna stop him?" a voice in her head spoke, sounding irritated.

"No Stitches. I didn't think that would prevent him from reaching me." She spoke out loud with sarcasm. "Now, let's see if the backup key is around here somewhere."

Her snow boots crunched along the snow covered dog run while she turned over buckets of used golf balls, softballs and outdoor equipment. Finally she found a pick in a spare bucket of baseballs in the benches seat compartment.

"There. Now we can finally-"

"And what do you think you're going to do with that?" A young man's voice interrupted her sentence. The broad shouldered man leaned against the dog run's fence. His almost bleach-blonde hair covered part of his face, thanks to his sticky sweat from running. Piercing blue eyes stared her down. Her panicked almost grey blue eyes stared back.

"Well, shit," she muttered. "How'd you jump the fence?"

"Chair was right there."

"Right." They awkwardly stared at each other.

"You know-" the woman spoke up. "I still can go inside."

"Please just hurry the fuck up already," Stitches urged.

"Yeah. And I can still-"

She turned the key and yanked the door open. The man reached for her and almost grasped her puffy snow jacket, but just missed. He almost landed on his face but stuck his arms out to stop the fall.

"Hah!" She cheered, hands thrown up in the air from excitement. "I finally did it! I beat you Arden-" her cheering stopped when she looked over to see her best friend on the floor cradling his arm.

"Oh my god, are you alright?" She rushed over and knelt down next to him. "Arden, I'm so sorry-"

"It's alright," he grunted, interrupting her. "Let's just go inside."

"No way dude. We're going to the ER." He seemed to tense up.

"Trust me, it's fine. You can make me some hot chocolate as an apology."

"Hah hah. I'll get you some ice."

"There's snow right here!"

"Oh my god. You're such a dork."

"You're both the biggest nerds."

"And you're being rude." The out of breath girl responded.

***

"Morgan, I told you, I'm fine!" Arden exclaimed from the living room. "You don't need to take me to the hospital! It'd probably cost you a fortune for nothing." Morgan walked over with two cups of hot chocolate.

"But if you broke your arm-"

"Which I didn't-"

"Then you need it checked anyways. Plus, remember, you have insurance."

"It's not the greatest," the brighter blonde argued, his freckles barely apparent from the cold winds making his face pink.

"It's something!" she pointed out. Morgan had taken off her puffy jacket to reveal a black Disney spirit long sleeved t-shirt, blue jeans, and sporting a pair of different colored Under Armor socks. Grabbing a blanket, she jokingly threw it onto her friend, covering his head while she grabbed the the TV remote.

"Please don't put on-" The voice in Morgan's head and Arden started simultaneously.

"I am forcing you to watch Parks and Rec with me and there's nothing you can do with that broken arm of yours! Hah!" Both her friend and demon in her head groaned in frustration, but Morgan knew Arden was joking. She found it more hilarious since they both were in sync, but it hurt because she couldn't tell him about Stitches existence.

"You've seen this over a dozen times-"

"And it's better every time!" Arden gave a short laugh and got up.

"You think your parents mind if I get some of that ice mentioned earlier from the fridge?"

"Dude, you've practically lived here for over ten years. Ya know you grab stuff like that without question," Morgan answered.

"Hah, yeah... Old habits die hard, huh?" He gave a nervous chuckle.

"I guess. Just put it in a plastic bag this time."

"That happened five years ago!"

"I know~"

***

A clock in the kitchen beeped a few time before going quiet, which meant it was 9:12 PM.

"You guys seriously need to get that oven replaced," Arden said, standing in the doorway and struggling to put on his grey jacket. Morgan knelt down and handed him a box.

"I've tried talking to mom and dad about it, but they're adamant on keeping it. Still works as an oven or something was their excuse. Plus they're trying-"

"To save money for vacation? Yeah, I remember. But you're out of the house aren't you?" Morgan fiddled with her locket, rubbing her thumb on the black centered stone.

"I was. Rent's been going up faster than I can catch up with where I lived. They're gonna let me stay here until I can find somewhere else. Hopefully that'll be soon." She sighed and leaned against the wall looking down at the necklace.

"You're always welcome to my place you know," her friend offered, cheeks blushing a cherry shade of pink. But Morgan was not paying attention to his face, she just stared at the TV as she was flipping through Netflix to get to her profile.

"I couldn't do that to you. I'd probably take up too much space, and we're at different colleges, and-"

"Morgan, you're my closest mc-fucking friend. There's nothing for you to worry about." She gave a small laugh and finally looked at him9.

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise." He held up his right hand in salute.

"Eye eye captain," his voice in a fake pirate's accent.

"Pfft, you dork."