anemoia (#words)

United States

WtW's resident "the cool cousin you see once a year, but the conversation you guys were having a long time ago picks up where it left off without missing a beat" (rosi)

Child of God
logophile
athletic nerd

Female
Soph.

Message to Readers

I just felt like writing something random and fun. So yeah. Got the prompt from Pinterest.
Love y'all!

You're Not the Only One (Random, Unedited Prompt Response)

November 24, 2020

FREE WRITING

8
    "Can you repeat the question?" I ask, wiping my palms on my leggings. Leslie doesn't lower her pistol. She looks me dead in the eye. She could probably kill me with that look.
    "I asked you which classmate tried to cut off your braids in Ms. Daden's second grade class," she repeats. She glances to my left at the clone. The fake me. 
    Oh, yeah. I have an evil clone. It's all cool. Except right now, because Leslie backed us into the corner of the alleyway between a tattoo parlor and a Dollar General. Obscured by another wall on the opposite side, I'm betting that it would be days, maybe weeks before anyone found a body here.
    look to my right, where I don't have to look at Kelsea #2 and i can pretend that there's not a gun trained at my head. I admire the ivy creeping up the red brick wall as my brain scrambles to recall the answer to Leslie's question.
    "Andy Buckenheimer," answers my clone. She says the name casually, as if it doesn't determine my fate. Even though she said the name, I have no recollection of an Andy Buckenheimer. But Leslie does. 
    "Alright, then. Goodbye, fake Kelsea." No. No. I am not going to die at the hands of my best friend.
    "That doesn't prove anything!" I blurt out. "She could have all of my childhood memories implanted in her brain."
    "No, she could," my clone argues, pointing at me. "C'mon, Leslie. remember everything. How you had this insufferable crush on James Giles. How your sister wanted to elope with that hotshot lawyer. How you broke Mrs. Lennard's prized china bull, and she still doesn't know it."
    "The only reason my clone remembers these things is because she was genetically engineered to have a perfect memory," I retort. Leslie's hand wavers. She blinks. 
    "One more question." I brace myself. In my peripheral vision, I see my clone doing the same—eyebrows creasing, teeth clamping down on the edge of her lower lip, hazel eyes turning defiant and challenging. Bring it on. her expressions says. Actually, that's a difference between us. I'm terrified of what Leslie will ask. Terrified that I won't remember the answer.
    "Which one of you loves me?" 
    Oh. I... wasn't expecting that. Her words hang in the damp spring air. As loaded as her gun and twice as deadly. My clone risks a surprised glance at me. But I won't respond. Won't say anything, Why would Leslie ask this, of all things? She knows I won't. Knows I can't talk about something like... loveMy head pounds in my ears like a drum, threatening to burst open my skull. I accept my fate. I'll try to talk my way out of it, but there is not much hope.
    "Leslie, you're my dearest friend!" exclaims my clone. "I've always loved you. We've been closer than sisters from the womb. You've always supported and comforted me, and I've done the same for you. I don't see how you could still be considering this. She's obviously the imposter." She glares at me. 
    I'm doomed. 
    I inhale deeply. And I have to admit, this is the kind of air I want for my last breath. Fresh and pure, with notes of new beginnings and rain and new leaves singing in the molecules. I close my eyes and wait for the gunshot. 
                                                                                        ***
    But it never comes. Instead, I hear a loud clunking sound on my left, and I'm startled into opening my eyes. Kelsea #2 is slumped on the ground beside me, and all I see is Leslie. She flicks on the safety, drops the pistol, and embraces me. 
    "DId you knock her out?" is the first question on my lips. Leslie nods. Her dark eyes are glistening, and two tears escape from her right eye. Gone is her bravado and stone-cold demeanor.
    We embrace. "How did you know?" is my second question. 
    "She talked too much," Leslie whispers into my shoulder. "And you're terribly forgetful. I knew you would never have remembered Andy Buckenheimer. Or my sister wanting to elope. And I never told you about breaking the china bull. I told Ellen, and you were sitting across from us at the time."
    "But I did remember James Giles," I say. "Even I couldn't forget that." 
    "I hope not," she laughs. "After all, you're going to be my maid of honor this summer." There are not enough smiles and tears and hugs to make up for the past month of fear and separation. When we finally let go of each other, I look down at my clone.
    "Are you going to call your boss?" I ask. She nods.
    "He'll transfer her to the reformation facility."
    "What facility?" 
    "Oh, the company runs a program to help clones find their way in the world. Give them their own identities."
    "Wait. Do you mean that you were never going to shoot one of us?" At this, Leslie looks down and fiddles with the hem of her blouse. "Was the gun even loaded?" I demand.
    She stoops down and retrieves the dark handgun. She carefully opens the bullet chamber and shows it to me. 
    "Oh." I swallow. A shiny magazine, full and ominous, stares up at me.*
    "I never intended to fire at you. At either of you," she says. "if I had to, I would have fired at the wall. Or the ground."
    "Which would have still been dangerous."
    "But probably not lethal," she points out. "I didn't want to hurt either of you."
    "That makes one of us," I say, crossing my arms. I glare down at the fake me who has ruined my life for the past month. "But I'm glad she's not going to... you know. I never want to see her face again, but she doesn't deserve to die."
    "If you never want to see her face again, then you'd better not look in the mirror," jokes Leslie. I roll my eyes. 
    "Yeah, yeah." I pause. "Did you ever notice that there was something... off about her, though? Her physical features are identical, but..." I trail off, not sure how to end that sentence.
    "There was something else in her eyes," Leslie finishs for me. "In her expressions. Bolder, more calculating."
    "A crueler curve to her mouth," I add. 
    "Exactly."
    "So if you noticed that, then why did you have to ask all those questions? That seriously scared me, Les." I've got Leslie there. She returns to fiddling with the hem of her blouse.
    "I... I thought you might be angry enough to get that look in your eyes. Like you were furious enough at her to look a little more calculating." 
    It's a perfectly reasonable explanation, but it feels thin. I raise my eyebrows. 
    "Really." The word is enough to convict her. 
    "I did it because I was hoping that she might be you, okay?" The confession bursts out of Leslie. The spring air does nothing to subdue the sting. 
    "You must be so disappointed," I say coolly. "Nice talking to you." I glare in disgust—first at Kelsea #2, then at Leslie—and push past my former best friend. She stands in shock, looking deceptively innocent in her floral button-down blouse, tan ankle boots, and blue skinny jeans in a trendy-yet-classic wash. Always looking like a model.
    The thought repulses me as I turn down the corner of the alleyway, emerging by a sign that advertises tri-color tattoos for 20 percent off. I ignore her pleadings and indignant huffs. 
    I think I'm far enough away, but I hear her yell, "You're not the only one with an evil clone!"
I felt like writing something fun and random, so I went to my Pinterest emails and found this prompt. It caught my eye earlier.
Word Count: 1276
This is just a random thing I came up with on the fly. Hope you enjoy it! It's probably not going to be a series. I don't know much about my characters. I pretty much know what you know.
Title ideas?
*On the gun/magazine/cartridge/chamber/etc thing, I am so not an expert. I've done a little research, but i still don't understand how a handgun/pistol works. Anyone who is more educated in this area, please help me correct any mistakes in this piece. 

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  • November 24, 2020 - 3:34pm (Now Viewing)

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9 Comments
  • ~timestamp~

    I managed to make a+q
    family friendly
    ;)
    https://writetheworld.com/groups/1/shared/204855/version/421026


    6 months ago
  • ~timestamp~

    Re: I guess “Ana + Quinn” broke the guidelines somehow content wise. I’m so frustrated rn


    6 months ago
  • FantasyOtter12

    Re: Looool no I'm not XD


    6 months ago
  • Stone of Jade

    alsoo..Chapter 2 of On the High Seas has been published!
    https://writetheworld.com/groups/1/shared/204653/version/420267


    6 months ago
  • Stone of Jade

    oh this is great! I love reading prompts but never really come up with anything. I love this tho!! Super well written and the story is told really perfectly--not too much detail but enough to give the reader a strong enough grasp on the characters!


    6 months ago
  • FantasyOtter12

    Re: yeep, i read 8.5, twas pretty interesting :)


    6 months ago
  • Rose A(hiatus)

    Loved this. It's amazing that all of this came from a prompt.


    6 months ago
  • FantasyOtter12

    Re: Yes, kotlc forEVER augh yea mindfruit jztpenguin and I all rly love the series :) Thx for your kind comments, and yea they send u an email ahead of time the wednesday before


    6 months ago
  • Searching_ Astro

    I love keeper of the lost cities read all I'm a big keefe fan and I love your writing it is so interesting!! please feed me moooooore


    6 months ago