The emotions flowed more than they ebbed, dragging to the surface a bunch of skeletons. Who would have thought a mop of blond hair and a heart-shaped face could bring up such darkness.
“How did it go?” Miss Prom Queen of Class 2003 chuckled. “Freaky beak, squeaky geek, hit and run before you reek!”
Then they would punch me, I would squeak and they would run away, making me wish my vulture heritage wasn’t so obvious.
“Good times!” I laughed to push away the growing urge to pluck her eye out. It was alive, but I wasn’t a picky eater.
This is a drabble for Monday’s prompt.