Not What She Seems

Not What She Seems

A Story by Krisen Lison
"

They were young, tossed onto the streets before they'd even known what it was like to live.

"

The room was small, sterile smelling after a recent cleaning. There was only enough space for  two normal stalls and a single handicap. The single sink was the motion kind that only worked half the time and always leaked when it wasn’t in use. There wasn’t paper towel, just the blow drying that never actually dried anyone’s hands.

            The drip of the sink echoed in the space. It was the only sound beside the breathing of the woman at the sink. She was sitting on the counter, her feet planted firmly on the ground beneath her. Her thoughts were running wild as she tried to figure out exactly where the two girls had gone. They were young, and as much as she hated harming them, it would be necessary when they were finally found.

            She began to tap her heel, sliding off the counter to once again lean down to see under the doors. All three were unlocked, none of them containing a single soul. No feet on the ground, no voices, no breathing. Just her and the constant drip of water that was slowly driving her insane. She sighed, turning toward the door. The dryer clicked on as she walked past it and she smacked it roughly. It didn’t do anything exact relieve a very small portion of her frustration. She would find those girls, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

 

“Is she gone?” The smaller of the two whispered softly, her black hair falling in front of her face as she shifted in the small space. Her knee caught a weak point and she jerked forward from it, barely stopping it from giving out.

            “I think so, I don’t hear her anymore.” The other girl, a thin blonde with emerald eyes muttered softly, grabbing the panel beneath her. She lifted it and stuck her head out, surveying the room. “Yeah she’s gone. You first.” She reached back for the other girl, pulling her toward the opening. Her hands tucked themselves under the little one’s shoulders and she braced herself, slowly lowering her down until her feet touched the surface of the toilet seat.

            When the girl was down the other gripped one of the metal bars supporting the rest of the ceiling panels. She dropped her legs down and her friend wrapped her arms around them, easing her down into the stall. The returned the panel to its original spot and sat down on the bathroom floor. “What are you gonna do Meenah?” The younger one tucker her legs beneath her as she spoke. She couldn’t be any older than eight, her small face still alight with the glow of youth.

            “We’re going to go find him and give him the coin, just like he said to.” Meenah responded. The glow that her friend had had long left her face, replaced by the hardened look of a child that’d seen too much. She was eleven at most, far too young to hold that bitterness, but still it remained. “Is your arm okay Lexi?” she reached out for Lexi’s right arm. A large tear in her jacket revealed a deep gash that was the product of their scramble to get into the ceiling.

            “It hurts really bad.” Lexi murmered, prodding the wound with her fingers. Meenah dug through her backpack, finding a roll or bandages and a tube of antibacterial cream. She ripped Lexi’s sleeve off and started to wrap the wound. “Are you sure we should go back? What if that woman finds us again? What if….what if she really meant it when she said she’d kill us?”

            Meenah sighed, finishing her work and leaning back against the cold tile wall. “She won’t kill us, even someone heartless like here wouldn’t do that to children.” She comforted softly, letting her face rest on the tile. “We have to go to him, how else are we going to get that money. We need it Lexi, without it we don’t eat.”

            Lexi hung her head in front of her, picking at a scab on her ankle. Meenah was right, that money was their meal ticket. And if he paid them enough Meenah had promised her proper clothing instead of the rags they’d found in that abandoned house. “Okay. Let’s go then.” She went to stand but Meenah stopped her, pulling down on her pant leg.

            “Not yet, we have to give her enough time to be a good ways away or we’ll never make it out of here.” She pulled Lexi into her lap, cradling the girl like a mother would. Her lips brushed against the soft black hair, newly washed in the local pool’s locker room. “I’m going to protect you Lexi, until we find your mom again okay?”

            Lexi nodded, not mentioning that she knew her mother was dead, had been dead for three years now. But the sob story had been what convinced Meenah to help her. She needed help to get through all the tasks he gave her. She was too small to do most things, but Meenah, Meenah could do them. She was stronger from years of living this life. More resilient to the cold and the grime. She knew the streets and where to go to get the best meals and where they could bathe.

            He had said he needed Lexi, that she was the only one capable of fulfilling that terrifying prophecy. And Lexi needed Meenah to aid her in that goal. It would happen, she would become the girl to change the world. And Meenah, well she would just get tossed aside when it was all said and done.

© 2013 Krisen Lison


My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Reviews

This is really good! Is it finished? I feel like I want to know more.

Posted 10 Years Ago


Krisen Lison

10 Years Ago

This is the finished piece, I may add more but I'm not sure at this point. My specialty is stories t.. read more
Judy

10 Years Ago

It's really great writing. I could see the story of these two girls expanded into an entire novel.

Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

433 Views
1 Review
Added on June 3, 2013
Last Updated on June 3, 2013

Author

Krisen Lison
Krisen Lison

About
I'm a poet, erotic writer, novelist, and short story writer. My free time is filled with the written word, flowing both from my own pen and from the many books I read. I tend to keep to myself, but if.. more..

Writing
Drowning Drowning

A Story by Krisen Lison