#WRITINGPROMPTWEDNESDAYS: A PICKPOCKET, A STUCK ELEVATOR, A PROMISE

June 9, 2016


So me and some kids I know formed this group called The Write Club Cebu. If it isn't obvious enough, it's a group of people who love to write. It's like AAs but for nerds who can't get over their love for the written word. Not that we're trying to get over it either. 

Every Wednesday we have this thing called #WritingPromptWednesday (again, I can't be obvious enough) where we throw in prompts and make stories in an attempt to either grow, or bust writer's block.

This is my take. :)

"A pickpocket, a stuck elevator, a promise"

It opened with a satisfying, dainty ding and she stepped in, heels clicking. She pressed the button down. The walls of the lift were mirrored and gilded gold; she thought it matched her dress perfectly. Her laced sleeves hid her shaking fingers. 

Everybody expects me to screw up today, she thought, arranging the fake pearls in her ears and the silver barettes in her hair. A quiet smile played across her cherry red lips. They didn’t know.  
This was just another job interview.  Just another sorority. This was the haze. 

How many had she been in before today?

Her reflection in the mirrored walls was a stranger's--- all flirty smiles and glittering poison. The girl she once was---well,  she was just one of the things she lost in the fire, now. A memory in sepia,  a ghost.

We'll get back at them, Kitty.

The weight of her promise sunk in her chest like her sister’s tombstone, twisting in her gut, tasting like bile and vengeance.

But first, this.

She'd have to prove her worth to The Club.  Adrenaline sang in her blood. This was easy.  How hard was it to steal from the thieves in this building? she thought, examining her polished nails. Her target: a programmer. Plaid blue shirt, horn-rimmed glasses. And all she had to do was to get his phone that had all these codes, whatever. And then she was in. Sometimes she wondered if The Club was even taking her seriously. A phone? Her confidence stretched and yawned like a lazy cat as the lift made its way down.

The elevator door dinged open again. She pressed the button to close the door almost as soon as it opened.

“Oh wait…waity, wait.”

 A guy clambered onto the elevator,  all knees and elbows. The first thing she noticed wasnt his blue plaid shirt,  or the horn rimmed glasses about to fall from the bridge of his nose. It was his voice.

She'd  know it even if she was underwater.

"Whew,  thanks for holding the door,"  he said,  literally wiping his brow. He took his glasses off and wiped them as well.

She didn't know if her heart stopped beating,  or if it was beating so fast she can't feel it in her chest.
She took the chance to take him in.  God,  he's so tall now. She wanted to either laugh or cry at this harsh joke.  

Because how do you steal from a guy who stole your first kiss?

The doors closed. He was still wiping his fogged up glasses. She wanted to tell him its her. Look at me. Do you recognize me? She fought a tide of memories. More promises. Soccer fields,  lazy days.  Sneaking out of math classes. His hands on her nape. She was scrambling for purchase,  suddenly thrown off balance.

God, was this part of the test? Does she have to give this up, too?

"Hi,  it's me" was on her lips.

He's done wiping his glasses. Will he know it's her behind this mask of gold and fake pearls?

Then the lift gave a lurch and shook,  throwing them off balance for real.

"Whoa, shit."

 She heard his glasses drop to the floor before the lights flickered and died.

Oh God Kitty,  I wish you were here, she silently prayed, suddenly turning back to the girl she thought she lost in the fire.

She closed her eyes, thankful to be in the dark.




----

Ah! Tell me what you think.

Love, 

K x


@krishafromtheisland

© KFTI | A Growing Up With Cebu Blog. Design by FCD.