Girls

 

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Girls

VAL DAY-SANCHEZ

Copyright © 2016 Val Day-Sanchez

All rights reserved.

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The Beginning

Russ kept his hands tucked into his pockets and his face forward. He had come to find that he could make himself invisible if heimplemented a particular set of nonverbals. His head and eyes adopted the same downward turn. His shoulders hunched in reaction, his pace was swift but not too fast to cause alarm. His clothes were dark, no flashy emblems to provoke conversation. If his brother hadn't confiscated his headphones, Alabama Shakes would be pouring into his ears, drowning out the high school gossip. Instead he pretended that his brother wasn't a complete bottom-feeder that took without asking, and shoved him around.

The songs played through his mind from memory. He made his way to the soccer field, and walked past the bleachers towards his forgotten bench. He pulled off his backpack and took out his notebook, skimming through song lyrics, poems and beginnings of novels. He was ready to start something else, finishing never appealed to him. He found a bare enough space and began to scribble, in his maddening way. With the notebook turned sideways he shoved in his prose, wherever they would fit. A scream pulled him outside of himself. He began to search the field for the source.

It was an austere day. In between seasons, the sky seemed to be at war with itself. Part of it being bright and full of sun while a storm crept in from the north bringing with it gray patches and a wetness in the air.

His scan revealed an empty field. He recommitted to his notebook but the screaming returned. This time it didn’t stop, it only grew louder and more despondent. He stood up now, running to the edge of the bleachers back towards the field. Russell felt a mixture of confusion and dread as he looked upon the source of the terrorized screaming.

Grace Garcia, a girl he had known since kindergarten. A girl who, like everyone else, had stopped speaking to him by ninth grade stood cradled over a lump. His brain fought to identify what lied beneath her. It was a mass? Yes, a mass which was cloaked in a football jersey?It wasn't a thing or a mass, it was a body.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Her voice was small but something about it made Russ uneasy and he wanted nothing more than to return to his hiding place, far away from here. Suddenly Grace looked up, away from the body. “It’s Chris Carpenter.”

Russ was having trouble believing that Grace, who was barely five feet tall had incapacitated their school’s left tackle. He was having an even harder time believing that there was a body in front of them. A body that was twisted and contorted into unhuman angles. “You guys were going out right?” Russ tried to ask calmly, as he nonchalantly looked around for someone else. Anyone else that could tag him out, take his place so he could sink back into totally the shadows, unnoticed.

Grace smirked, “We went out once, it doesn’t mean I owe him anything--everything. It was one date and just because of who his dad is...” Her voice trailed off as tears formed in her eyes and for the first time Russ saw that her sweater was ripped. The fabric had been pulled apart at her shoulder. Her pants were unbuttoned and hanging loosely on her hips. Her hair was messy and a scratch reddened her right cheek. Russ felt sick to his stomach.

“Did he try something?” It was the most that he could say without actually having to say it.

Grace nodded.

“And you--?” This Russ couldn't say.

“He won't try it ever again, not to me, or anyone else.”

Russ felt himself shudder.“You know my little sister?”

Russ nodded, trying to regain his bearings.

“She'll start going here next year. The guys already talk about

her, the things they want to do to her. They call it the Garcia twin pack.”

“You’re not even twins.” Russ said stupidly. He didn’t know what to say. That guys were gross? That he hated most of the student population and some of the teachers too? That bad things happened every day and no one did anything? That people that tried to speak up were quickly labeled as other or cast out?

“She’s in middle school, eighth grade and they’re already---!” Russ watched as Grace’s eyes turned from green to black. Her hair stood on end and her feet were no longer in contact with the grassy field. The body of Chris Carpenter began to leave the ground as well. Any possibility of the state of his life was immediately eradicated as his body was simultaneously ripped limb from limb. Grace raised her hand and the body disintegrated into dust.

Russ fell backward, his mind was spinning.“Don't tell anyone,” Grace paused before beginning

again. “Or do, it’s been my experience when it comes to this, no one believes you anyway.”

 

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About the Author

Valerie Day-Sánchez enjoys reading and writing across genres, although young adult is her favorite at the moment. Threshold is her first attempt at Sci-Fi. Her other work consists of YA Fantasy Trilogy, Harlow Whittaker. She received both her B.A. and M.A. in Communication Studies from New Mexico State University. Her love of the desert Southwest keeps her close to home although she loves to travel, especially when she gets a chance to try the local cuisine. Playing with her two sons and the family’s Boston Terrier, Winston, are how she occupies her time when she’ not writing.

 

 

 

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