Playing With Fire

“I can’t believe we’re finally twenty-one,” she said softly. 

I shook my head mutely. It had been a long wait. I looked over at her, about to smile at her, but something caught my eye.

Her face was caught in the flame of her sparkler. She looked mesmerized.

“Mia?”

She stared at the flame for a second longer, then slowly lifted her eyes. There was a strange smile twisting at the corners of her lips. Something about it made me shiver with unease.

Then I shook my head. This was my sister. My best friend.

“We need to do it tonight,” she said in a low voice.

“Do what?” The alarm bells in my head went off again.

“We’ve talked about this, Izzy,” her voice still soft and gentle. “I have fake ID’s. We’ll just set up new identities for ourselves.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. 

“It’s now or never,” she said, as the last flame danced across her sparkler and went out. We were standing in complete darkness now.

“Mia…” I started. “I was just angry at the time. We can’t do this.”

There was silence, but I felt the air vibrate with anger around me. 

“If you don’t help me, I’ll do it on my own.” Her voice came through gritted teeth. “But remember, you’ll have to pay the price.”

© 2019

Image from free photo stock Pixabay.com

Responses

  1. Reblogged this on Barb Taub and commented:
    I don’t write the biggest blog, but clearly it has the 11,000 best readers ever!
    I’m so thrilled to hear from each and every follower, including number 11,000—Fia Coldwell. Check out her compelling flash fiction with a dark psychological twist at Thrilled to the Bone.

    1. Thank you so much for the reblog! Glad you’re enjoying my stories.

      1. I think you’re amazingly talented. Dark, different, and talented!

      2. This just made my day! 😊

  2. Well, that will drive me mad until I find something else to think about! Very creepy!

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