Flash Watched the drizzle from the window with her arms crossed behind her back, fingertips just barely touching each other. Slowly, she blinked, not once, but many times. Outside, it was dreary; dull even, a shadowy statement of what should have been a particularly sunny day. Next to her, her glass of half drank water waited for her to remember its presence, yet she did not reach for it. Instead, she opted to continue watching the rain haze over everything it touched.
She clutched the 14k gold cross necklace with sapphire birthstone in the center. The necklace had belonged to her mother, a sentiment value Flash had demanded for the memory of her. She never took it off, not even to bathe, swim, or shower. It was times like this, when she was faced with a daunting task, that she wished she could get her mother’s advice. Yet, now she had no one to rely on. No one, except herself.
She turned around, her hands dropping to her sides. It wasn’t easy to face something that sentenced them to death’s door like writhing, miserable convicts. She ran her teeth along her bottom lip. Could they really do this? She suddenly wasn’t so sure. All her life, she had dealt with people who misunderstood her, people who were afraid of her. The long, hideous vertical scar on her back was a painful reminder of the cruelty of people. Why should she give a rat’s rear end if an evil entity attacked and enslaved or killed everyone? In her opinion there were some people who deserved such a horrible fate. It would serve those people just right if they were enslaved ad made to suffer. After all, they had treated her horribly most of her life, even labeled her as a witch, and had tried to kill her because of their so-called religious upbringing. She tightened her fists, remembering the cold steel of the knife as it sliced deep into her back. There had been little justice given. She could still see the woman fresh in her mind, holding the bloody knife.
She would celebrate if such a person was enslaved and made to suffer along with the rest of the horrible people on this planet. Maybe she wouldn’t even bother joining in on this fight. Why should she care any way? No one else did.
She looked toward the others. Ice was hiccupping and trembling, rambling on about how they were going to die. Snow was preoccupied trying to comfort Ice, talking softly with him in a language she wasn’t familiar with. Shades watched them with a deep frown, but mostly she stared at the floor with a scowl. T-boz sat quietly with her legs crossed under her, tapping her fingers against the floor. Now and then, she shuddered and tightly closed her eyes.
A chill ran through Flash and she cringed. What kind of person was she, any way? To even think of just throwing in the towel before she even started? ‘A horrible, wretched person,’ she thought. She mentally chided herself.
“I don’t know if we can do this,” she whispered. “I mean… we’re just teenagers.”
