Ficly

Free Wheeling

Alice crept silently into the tree outside Jane’s window for the third time in a week – the first two times had ended in lectures and the threat of grounding. She was sure the hooded flashlight and rubber-soled shoes would make the difference this time.

Perched on the thickest branch, just outside Jane’s room, Alice pointed the flashlight at the window and thumbed it on and off three times, as fast as she could. A moment later, Jane’s blonde hair shown in the moonlight a heartbeat before her pale blue eyes appeared in the window. She lifted the heavy wooden frame, an audible scrape made them both cringe.

“What are you doing?” said Jane, the corner of her mouth turned up in a grin. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I had to – tonight is the last chance before we graduate.”

Jane disappeared into the darkness of her room and emerged dressed in black pants and a dark grey hoodie, a wisp of hair poking out from underneath.

As Jane climbed up onto the sill, she whispered, “Alright. Let’s go shoot that son of a bitch.”

View this story's 1 comments.