Blood Rain
by Shirh Khan
Copyright© 2022 by Shirh Khan
[WP] There was one good thing about the rain; it washed away the blood.
One:
There was one good thing about the rain; it washed away the blood.
It was an awful reminder of that day, when Wren stumbled off of the curb at the bus stop, just as the bus was arriving. She’d been trying to show off some cheerleading routine she was planning to wow the JV cheerleading team with, so she could become a cheerleader. She’d been talking about how she was planning to become the cheerleading captain by the end of next year, and hoping to put that on her academic record so that she could get into a good college. Exactly just how that would work, I didn’t know, but I wasn’t in the same crowd of people she was hoping to be a part of.
And now she never would be, either.
Two:
There was one good thing about the rain; it washed away the blood.
It was an awful reminder of that day, when Wren had gotten into an argument with Jasmine; why her mother named her that, I can only guess; I think it was because she thought her daughter would be a beautiful dusky girl of quiet poise. Jasmine was anything but beautiful, and quiet was definitely not a part of her vocabulary. Everyone knew that Jasmine was headed for trouble; her mother seemed to turn a blind eye to her antics, letting her throw temper tantrums all the time; the entire fourth grade class quietly disliked how she seemed to flaunt her birthday gifts and Christmas presents. Wren was the first of us who stood around at the bus stop who had gotten an iPad, and when Jasmine had begun to taunt one of the other kids about how they probably hadn’t gotten anything for Christmas, Wren had whipped that bad boy out of her backpack to show it off to her. Things went downhill very quickly after that, from Wren showing off to a horrifically surprised Jasmine, to a furious little girl who decided that she’d take that ‘offensive’ device from her tormentor—and my how the tables had turned there—and the final moment, when Wren had her back to the street, with Jasmine pulling on the iPad. I remember seeing Jasmine’s face, from the side, from profile, as she snarled at Wren; she picked up her foot, and kicked out at Wren, as she deliberately let go of the iPad. “I don’t want it, anyway,” she shouted, as Wren fell backwards into the street ... where her head slammed into the ground, and she didn’t move anymore.
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