Frisky Friday Flash Fiction

frisky-friday

Happy Friday! It’s time for another installment in Frisky Friday Flash Fiction. You know the drill. I provide a picture and the first lines of a story (300 words maximum). You get the opportunity to provide the rest. I’ll post the full story the following week.

Let’s look back at last week’s story:

splintered

“Splintered”

Everyone has an alternate ego. A person you’d like to be if you were brave enough, strong enough. I never imagined mine would be pure darkness. An evil so depraved and twisted that I was afraid to be alone with myself.

Thanks to her, I spend most of my days trapped inside my mind—my own personal hell. At night, she lets me free only to party with reckless abandon.

Which explains the naked man, excuse men, in my bed. Empty beer bottles line the dresser. Half-smoked cigarettes rest in ashtrays I didn’t know I owned. To my left, is a handsome dark-haired man. I notice his muscles as he turns onto his back. Day-um!

The blond on my right is equally as handsome and seriously endowed. Holy shit! No wonder I’m sore.

I blink a few times before glancing in the mirror. Patent leather corset, smeared eyeshadow, fake eyelashes, black wig, and oversized earrings—this isn’t me.

“Charis?” A groggy voice calls out.

It must be the name she used last night. Charis is the complete opposite of me. She’s not afraid to be sexy (obviously). She’s willing to go over the edge, and only worry about what’s on the other side after she’s jumped.

Me? I’m as plain as my name—Ada. My hair is whatever color is on the box of red dye I used recently. I don’t smoke. I don’t drink. And I sure as hell don’t have sex with strange men.

“Charis, come on back to bed,” the other voice begs.

I don’t even know their names.

The stale, lingering taste of rum coats my mouth. I force back the bile, and look in the mirror. Charis’s eyes stare back at me. She licks her lips and says, “Boys, are you ready for me?”


And now for this week’s story:

Who Am I

I have no idea who I am, or how I got to this place. That man watches me as if he knows me, but I’m sure I don’t know him. The only thing I do know is that for the first time in years, I’ve felt free.

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