Vishakha Mukherjee

India

Writer
Reader
Anime/Manga Lover
Dreamer
Born in Alabama moved to Yonkers and now India

Message from Writer

Just love to write! Write whatever your hearts wants!

Dyed Hair and the Apocalypse

May 26, 2020

PROMPT: In Motion

3
Bleach stung her nose. The hair dye itched her scalp as she limped along the road. Her baseball bat, dripped with blood as it scraped the pavement. She clutched her aluminium weapon, her fake electric pink nails piercing her skin. The crows were screeching above, mocking her inability to escape. She glared at them, scrunching her tired brows, before exhaling in defeat. 

Charred flesh wafted the midnight air, a savage scent that both dulled and heightened her aching senses. Fire smoldered, bristling with the rage of the forsaken. The overwhelming  heat warmed her, yet she couldn't help, but shiver. The events of the day rushed past her, assaulting her after the adrenaline wore off. Her muscles  were screaming from the battles of today and the ones that were to come. She yearned to collapse on the gravel itself and let the flames consume her, yet her mind stubbornly demanded that she lived. 

Earlier today, she was secretly transforming her lame brown hair in a McDonald's bathroom to a gorgeous bubblegum pink creation. She had skeptically dragged her feet home, concerned with her mother's reaction. In the back of her mind, she wished that was her only concern instead of the Apocalypse. 

A single afternoon whirled her life around. 

She sighed to herself, repressing a sob as she wiggled out a cigarette from her duffel bag. Her fingers trembled as she popped the tobacco stick ( or 'cancer stick' as her mother would disgustingly term it with a sneer). The fires next to her were kind enough to light the tip of her single salvation. She puffed into it, staring at the moonless midnight sky.  The addictive smoke filtered her lungs indulgently, allowing her to escape for a single moment. 

A dog with a clipped ear as if a snake had ripped it off with its fangs, trotted her way. His tongue lolled out, drool pooling in his pink mouth. Despair wrinkled his features, but the sight of a real human brightened his melancholic mood. He rubbed his snout against her leg, an arrow of hope striking his weak heart. She knelled down, ignoring the agony in her legs, before stroking his head and scratching what was left of his ear. His tail wagged earnestly as her affectionate petting. 
His elated gestures gave her more comfort than any words ever could . 
 

Print

See History
  • May 26, 2020 - 4:22am (Now Viewing)

Login or Signup to provide a comment.