Fiction Friday

This is a small piece I wrote with some of my novel members in it. Enjoy!

Every small detail on her outward appearance screamed “control freak” – her perfect black manicure to the tight bun on the back of her head. She absent-mindedly fingered her upside-down, broken cross necklace as she stared at the door.

“Staring at the door isn’t going to make more customers come!” her boss gently teased her as he stepped out from the back room. “Sure, but it makes me feel better!” She lightly responded.  Going over to the pastry case, she started methodically arranging all the pastries into several long lines. “Cling!” the bell attached to the door rang once as a young girl came in, trying to wipe the tear streaks that were running down her cheeks.

“Krystal!” The control freak exclaimed, coming around the counter to take a closer look at her younger sister. “What happened?”

“It’s – it’s – b-b-ullies, Ava” Krystal stammered, rubbing her upper arm.

“What did they do to you now?”

“Th-they at-tacked me. I-I wasn’t d-doing wr-wrong!”

Grabbing a napkin out of the dispenser Ava gently started to wipe to marks off of her sister, tenderly tracing the malformed shape of her sister’s head.

“Maybe you need to let Bill pick you up from school from now on,” Ava suggested. “I’d do it myself, but you know you get out before me.”

Krystal animatedly shook her head no.

Ava sighed and smoothed her sister’s short pixie hair.

“A-Ave, yo-your per-perfect” Krystal affirmed her sister as she gave her a side hug. The bell rang again as a customer walked in. Spinning to help the customer, Ava’s sleeve got caught on the shelves nearby, pulling the sleeve up to her elbow. The customer gasped. Even Krystal pulled away from her sister, confusion written on her face. Cut into Ava’s forearm was the word “sinner”. Numerious other cuts and burns lined Ava’s arm. In shock, Ava yanked her sleeve down, her cheeks flushing with shame. Suddenly her perfect manicure, her perfect hair, even her perfect love for her sister, was all swept away in one moment by her imperfection.

Nothing is as it seems.