Nobody Gives the New Body

Submitted into Contest #101 in response to: Write a story that involves a reflection in a mirror.... view prompt

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Fantasy Fiction Thriller

My name is Ella Briold, and it's stupidly embroidered on the back of my sweatshirt. I swiftly swing through the halls and my feet make a slight skipping noise across the tiled floor. People know my name. They know I’m an easy target. And that I never fight back.

The It group is behind me, and I think they’re preying on me. I hear light footsteps behind me before a hand touches my shoulder and spins me to face its owner.

It’s Kayla Waters. Her smile creeps across her face like a worm crawls on a dirt path. I’d like to step on it, but god knows what trouble I’d be in to offend the richest girl at the school. She opens her mouth, but it’s not to speak. It opens in a surprised hole, begging me to shove my fingers down it--

“Do you happen to wear your hair back often by any chance?” she asks in a sweet, unassuming tone, as she burns her eyes through my forehead. But her words are a snake’s venom that soaks into my soul. “And let me guess, you’re a foodie?” She scans me from head to toe.

Her parents have so much money that they donated enough to the school to get a library named after them. And what have I contributed? My bad grades?

I look past her, watching the hoards of students weave through the veins of the school. Right now, we’re in the heart: the cafeteria. No wonder she would pick such a spot to torture me. It feels like a formal execution, except it’s just socially.

“I can help you with it,” says a shallow and sweet voice from behind Kayla.

I peek behind her and see a girl that I never have before. She’s short: about 5’2. Her curly hair rests atop her slender shoulders. And her eyes: they’re a dark gray. When attending a school with such a vast amount of students, it's easy to see somebody you never have before. 

“My name is Lorraine,” she greets me. Kayla backs up, confused.

“Are you new?” Kayla asks, politely. She smiles, her eyes dancing over Lorraine.

Lorraine looks confused for a second, as if she’s forgotten where she was. “Oh, yes. I just moved a couple of weeks ago,” she explains. “I’ve been homeschooled since then.” She matches Kayla’s smile almost exactly. 

Kayla stops smiling. “Well you have a lot to learn around here.” She turns and walks off as the bell buzzes. I’m glad I have a free period.

“Who’s that?” Lorraine asks. Her cheeks are rosy: the same color as her dress. 

“Kayla Waters. You don’t need to worry about that though.” I smile.

“I think you’re pretty. I don’t know what she was talking about.”

We stand there in silence. Nobody has ever called me pretty. I don’t think I’m ugly--it’s just everyone at school always makes fun of me. I look down to the floor.

“Thanks,” I say, considering that maybe everyone in my life has been too cruel.

“You wanna hang out after school?” I ask her. “You can come to my house around 4:30.”

“Great!” she says. She strolls away, and I relish in the fact that I’ve made my second real friend in school. The only other would be Bella, who I happen to walk home from school with each day.

___________________________________________

The sun shines on each of our thoughtful faces as we weave through the sidewalked lined streets of West Wistville, our hometown for all sixteen years of our lives. We are focused on making sure to not step on the cracks--except for every twentieth one, for which we make sure to step on.

“You didn’t step on the crack!” she says in a childish tone.

“Aren’t we getting a bit old for this?” I say.

She looks perplexed. The mood shifts; it matches the feeling that I’ve been getting about Bella the past few weeks. I feel as if we’re drifting. 

“Are you okay?” She considers her inquiry. “It’s just you’ve seemed so distant.”

“Do you know Lorraine?”

“Is she new? I think I’ve seen her around. I saw her walk into one of the houses over there,” she points to a blackened and run-down building.

“She stood up for me today,” I admit. “She seems pretty nice.” 

“That’s a rare one,” Bella remarks. “Hey, you wanna come over to my house today? My mom says we can rent a movie.”

It strikes a memory from my trance earlier in the day: “I actually told Lorraine to meet me at my house today.”

Bella looks disappointed as she kicks a rock with her shoe. It skips across the ground, hitting every crack as it moves along. When it stops, sitting over one of the cracks, Bella turns to face me. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She smiles as she turns away from me, slowly walking towards her house. 

“See you later, alligator,” I call out. The phrase I say every time we part. 

In a while, crocodile, she’s supposed to say. Instead, she keeps trotting along with her ponytail flipping.

“See ya.” 

___________________________________________

We’re snacking on Doritos and gummy worms, playing Connect 4 and gossiping about the girls in our grade. It’s been forever since somebody has paid me any attention, other than maybe my parents. Even now, Lorraine’s eyes 

It’s been about an hour since we’ve arrived at my house, and the conversation is streaming faster than a wave can crash into the ocean. It’s easy to talk when it's not about yourself. It’s especially easy when its about people you envy. Or even hate.

Our topic right now is Kayla Waters. Everything seems to go her way, whether it be as a result of her beauty or if she’s just lucky. “Yeah, I just wish I were her sometimes,” I admit.

“What about her?” she inquires. Her eyes almost twinkle with curiosity.

I’m not sure why she’s so invested. “Nothing really,” I say. “Just her face I guess.

“Oh, I have the perfect trick,” Lorianne says. Standing up while motioning me to come with her. We find ourselves in my miniature bathroom. There’s no bath: just a toilet, a sink, and a mirror.

“Just give me your hands,” she says.

So I give them to her, and she encircles her fingers around my palms. I feel a jolt as she moves her fingers to my forehead and begins to massage. “What the hell?” I screech. The sound echoes off the walls and the mirror seems to shake.

“Relax,” she whispers. And I do, but only because any more screeching is bound to wake the neighbors. She lifts her fingers from my forehead. I open my eyes.

My forehead has shrunk. “It’s a little trick I’ve learned!” she says excitedly. She stares proudly at my face. “Do you want to do any more?”

My face gives a magical shine when I turn my cheek to look at myself. My acne scars have vanished, along with my eyebrows shaping perfectly over my twinkling eyes. I feel the skin on my face flush. I’m blushing over my own beauty.

I smile softly. “No thanks.”

“Alright,” she smiles back and checks her wristwatch. “I really should be getting on now.”

I nod at her as she makes her way out of the bathroom. I’m shaking, I notice. My shock is debilitating. Who is this girl? 

But I don’t care, because she’s just given me everything I’ve ever wanted. 

___________________________________________

The next day drags along just like the last. A shadow of the summer looms over the school year, waiting to open up a new black hole where the star of school once was. My summers are typically a bore, filled with nothing but wonders of the next school year. 

After school ends, I step out into the hot and humid summer day. Our school is air conditioned, so it's nice to not have to deal with it during the day. The air stands still on my skin as Lorraine walks up to me. My hairs stick up on my skin and the surface begins to tingle.

“There’s a party tonight, I heard,” she says to me.

I already know this: it's at Kayla's house. It’s bring a friend, but only for those who are invited. I heard two girls, Trina and Ava, talking about it during World Literature. Not that I would be invited. And I can’t see Lorraine having been--

“--invited!” she finishes.

I must have missed something. I’ve been really distant recently. That’s what Lorraine said. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I was invited, I said!” Lorianne’s usual slight smile brightens to a grin. “And guess who I’m totally bringing?” She nods her head at me.

I lift my eyebrows. “How’d you manage--”

“Let’s just say I did a little convincing Kayla.” She walks up to me and grabs my shoulders. “We need to get you ready,” she grins wildly, “I know just the trick.”

We walk to her house, although I’m exhausted from the school day. Three finals have left me mildly delirious. But the flowers are in full bloom, and the sun is in full shine. The beautiful contrasting colors of people’s front yard gardens make me forget about the humidity and the heat.

The exterior of the house is simple and modern, but I can tell that it’s likely larger than normal. She swings open the door and I gasp as I take in the mansion that is her house. A chandelier hangs from the gold encrusted ceiling. Life-sized paintings of people line the long hallways. A television, which must be about six feet long, hangs on the side of a wall.

I check the time on my phone: 5:30. We got out of school at five from an art club meeting.

“The party starts in two hours and thirty minutes,” she says.  She turns to face me. “I forgot to tell you. I’m staying at Kayla’s house for a while.”

I must look at her like she has three heads. “Her mom offered while her family is on vacation,” she explains quickly. “I’m sleeping in one of their guest rooms. Kayla is the only one home before she finishes finals and goes off to Bora Bora with them.”

She walks naturally through the house, as if she’s seen it a thousand times.

“Anyway, close your eyes. I want this one to be a surprise.”

I close my eyes. I trust her as she walks me into the bathroom. She first wets her hands with some water and mumbles a few unintelligible words as I feel her hands wave across my face, barely touching. Around three minutes have passed, or so I think, before she walks me outside the bathroom again.

“That’s it,” she laughs, her smile beaming. “I’ll see you back here in half an hour.”

The time is already 7:30. I walk out the door in a dreamlike trance and back to my house to lay down

___________________________________________

By the time I walk in the door, it’s 8:30. I took a quick nap and threw on my favorite dress before coming. It fits perfectly this time, instead of being too tight on the waist and too loose on the bum.

I’m parched, so I immediately move towards the beverage table for refreshments. They’re serving hard fruit punch and apple cider. I go for the punch. 

I spot Bella as soon as I lay my eyes on the people. She’s chatting it up with Leonardo, Kayla’s boyfriend. I run as fast as I can over to her, despite the height of my heels.

“Hey Bella!” I say, not paying any attention to Leo. “What’s going on?”

She looks like a ghost has possessed her. Her pallor is striking as she looks me up and down. “Hi.”

I chuckle nervously. “I know. It look me a lot of time to get ready,” I lie. Why is she so uncomfortable? Has she become suspicious of the time I spend with Lorraine? I hide my unease with a smile.

“You look amazing,” she says to me. She looks behind her. “I just realized my friend is probably waiting for me.”

She walks away into a crowd of people. The music is blaring in my ears. It buzzes in there like a fly. I’m stuck with worry and disappointment at the same time, until a strong hand rests on my shoulder. “I promise I wasn’t doing anything with her,” the voice attached to the hand says. 

I spin around to see a set of dark brown eyes comforting mine. His curly hair falls on his broad shoulders of his suit. It’s a black blazer: very in fashion for the boys in West Wistville. His shoes are perfectly shiny, just like his cheeks. And his lips match the color of my dress. 

“Hey, Leonardo.” I say, somehow possessed by newfound confidence. Kayla’s boyfriend hitting on me at Kayla’s party. What a moment.

I smell his cologne as he nudges in closer to me. It’s as fresh as the ozone. I pull him into me. He stares into me and I stare back in a magical moment. There’s no way that this could be the work of anything but a coincidence or my true destiny. 

He turns his head towards my ear and whispers a sweet melody: “Let’s take this to the bathroom,” he says and I pull him with me in agreement. We’re dancing not with our limbs but with our lips as we glide across the floor and into the bathroom when he slams it shut. I hear something crack as we swish to the ground in a painful yet gratifying slam. It’s love and I know it, as we’re pushing and pulling each other like the waves that crash outside of Kayla’s house and moving faster than the storm clouds above.

We stand up in unison, and I finally open my eyes to look at him. He’s flushed with a red hue, and his eyes are pleading for more. I find myself looking past him at a girl that I recognize. It’s Kayla. I move so quickly that I don’t register the magnitude of my blow to the screen as it shatters, sending shards everywhere. 

I come back to Earth when I realize that the crack in my knuckles is the same as the crack in the mirror, or what is left of the mirror. I scream so high and loud that I swear the blood oozing from the knuckles, and also from Leo’s face, are dancing to the high-pitched tune. 

The disheveled and distraught face of Leo crashes into me with a wave of guilt, who is now shrieking with the same emotion and propulsion as me. His beautiful face is streaked with blood from the wounds on his face. “I’m sorry,” I cry, although I don’t think this is my fault.

I yank the door open and scream into the hoard of civilized people like a wild animal. I screech and I throw the tables and chairs to the ground. I yank people’s hair to turn them around, I throw punches at strangers in the face if they’re not who I’m searching for.

Where is Lorraine?”

The crowd is flailing. Screams proliferate through the wide hall. I hear a yell from the pit from those squawking and fleeing birds. “Who is Lorraine?

I burn my eyes past the fleeing people, fleeing from not only my bloody hands but my bloody screams, and they set fire to the glass window on the other side of the room. The reflective glass may be cracking from the heat of my eyes alone.

I would crack a million more mirrors with my bare fist to be Ella Briold again.

July 10, 2021 01:17

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2 comments

Richard Dauer
22:34 Jul 14, 2021

"Nobody Gives the New Body" is a title that certainly gives the reader no idea about could happen to the protagonist. Let's see if my meaning void is filled as I read. The first sentence doesn't transcend the reader, nor hook me. Who cares about an embroidered sweatshirt? I don't; I'm here to be told a story. She "swings through the halls." What halls? The halls of justice? The hospital halls? And what is an "It" group? I am getting the sense that the audience for this story is high school or middle school teens. The third paragraph is...

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Alex Sultan
10:57 Jul 13, 2021

Very interesting story. I like your use of scene breaks(The second scene especially) Also the ending is pretty shocking too, I like the contrast with it compared to the rest of the story. Great use of italics near the end with the dialogue as well.

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