Bonded by Blood


Avery lay on her ground with her back against the dewy grass that brought early morning. Her chest rose and fell as steady as the feet approaching. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, either. It was her place. Her secret. She’d only burdened one other with it. The girl sat up, her shirt moist.

Raven hair spiked out from behind her ears, streaked with rebellious purple. If she really tried, she could become beautiful. She’d chopped her hair off the summer before. She’d outlined her eyebrows and eyes with an unforgiving black. Her blue eyes were covered with an opaque black. She’d rubbed white powder on her face – giving her quite the ghastly look.

But when the other girl, Carmen, sat down, she didn’t even speak. She handed her an apple. The other girl was slightly taller than the goth girl. She sported caramel layers with round glasses. Her lips were coloured a dusty peach, and her face was highlighted by a honey toned blush.

The first girl, inspected the apple and then gave it back to the second. Her braces would hurt if she bit into the apple, as rebellious as she was – she wasn’t going to subject herself to the pain. Tattoo inked most of her pearly skin. A piercing sliced through the center of her nose, and her ears were battered beings – having more holes than a strainer. Carmen lay on her back, looking up. They said nothing. There wasn’t anything to say.

The second girl looked at Avery, and wondered whatever had gone wrong. This was her best friend. It had been four years. Her glamorous black hair that had reached her chest was sawed off into a choppy bob. Her captivating blue eyes were hidden behind the eyes of a demon. Her normally defined eyebrows were overdrawn and coloured in with a black crayon. Her face resembled that of a ghost.

The first thing that changed was the smell. It was earthy and mixed with the fading tones of summer. It was the smell of the thunderclouds that had gathered in the sky above them. Lighting forked out like a snake’s tongue. The drizzle was of no difference to the second, but to Avery it meant a clean slate. She contemplated running for cover, but then decided against.

It looked like she was crying milk, then veins of darkness joined the crying. The rain washed away all of the façade that Avery had built for herself over the past four years. It had been exactly four years ago she realised, looking over at Carmen. Avery realised that Carmen knew too.

“Avery! I need to tell you something!” The two of them were sitting on the crest of the hill that provided a picturesque view of the Manhattan skyline. Avery turned to face Carmen, a smile ready. Carmen sat down, shaking. Avery threw an arm around her friend. And then she saw what was in her hand. 

It wasn’t too intricate, but it was handy. A rubber black handle, complete with a sharp blade. It was a regular fruit knife. Except that Carmen hadn’t taken fruit to school today, or any other day of her life for that matter. Their sophomore year lay ahead of them, blossoming with opportunities. The knife of reality sliced through the dreams of the future. Carmen’s face fell, she had a bright future – not one easily put out. 

Bright crimson outlined the knife in it’s haunting shade. Avery knew. Carmen would break. 

That’s why she took the knife from her friend’s hand. Plunged in into the ground. Wiped the handle free of any marks. 

Held the blade. 

 

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