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Well, mine’s a little different. I kinda just wrote a tiny, short story.. 🙂 Let me know what you think!

 

She glowered at the giant standing over her chair. She wished he would just ignore her like everyone else did.

“What do you want?” she snapped as she glared up through her heavy mascara and black bangs.

“Did you pack a lunch?” he asked, his dimpled smile grating on her nerves.

“None of your business,” she said crossing her arms. The metal studs of her leather belt bit into her skin, but if it made her look less likable she would cross her arms until they bled. If only he would leave. If only he would stop talking to her like she was a- a human being.

He held out something to her. A cookie overflowing with chocolate and nuts. “My mom makes them” -he was talking again- “and I bring some to school to share with my friends. Would you like one?”

For a split second she hesitated. “No,” she said quietly, relaxing her arms. “I’m allergic to walnuts.”

Two days later she found herself in the dark. The supply closet door was locked and she could hear them snickering outside.

“Hey vampire,” a jock’s voice echoed in her ears. “Why don’t you just stay there in the dark instead of infecting us with all your freakishness.”

She winced as someone hit the door. A school bell rang and her tormentors dispersed. Leaning her back against her prison door she slid down and drew her black boots close and her torn-stocking knees up to her chest. She had almost made it a whole week without being noticed. Almost.

A small sniff escaped her and she rubbed her hand under her nose. Maybe another piercing wasn’t a good idea. Not if this kept happening. Her black clad lips quivered. At least she was alone. At least she was in good company.

 

A tap startled her from her thoughts. Mascara and eyeliner streaked in ugly black lines down her cheeks. Maybe makeup wasn’t such a good idea either. Another tap on the door. Someone was knocking.

“Hello?” she called. Her teary voice cracked a little.

“Are you stuck?” a familiar voice asked from the other side.

“No, I like it in here,” she said sarcastically, “yes, I’m stuck.”

There was some jingling and then, like the sound of angel trumpets, the door clicked open.

Scrambling to her feet she wiped at her tear-stained face and tried to smooth her crumpled leather skirt. You’re in control, she told her self. The door opened and there he was, with the golden hair of an angel. The giant. The boy with the cookies.

“You ok?” he asked, concern creasing his face. She tried to nod calmly, but only a torrent of dammed up tears came. Hands shaking she covered her smudged face.

Then he was holding out his hand, a cookie, wrapped in a clean napkin, on his palm. “I asked mom to make some without walnuts.”

With a hiccuping sob she took the cookie and closing her eyes took a small bite. Warm chocolate rushed into her blood and the tears stopped falling.