Pretty
Vicious
Emira VS Kid Vicious
“Wanna see something cool?”
It was those words and a hint of a promise of friendship that got Emira here – descending a crumbling staircase hidden beneath a rusty wheelbarrow in what used to be the Academy’s garden.
Sure, she was new in town and had no friends, and Kid was the first person to acknowledge her existence. But skipping class with a stranger was totally out of character for her. It was scary. And kind of exciting.
Emira stepped on a rock and lost her footing. Thinking fast, she transformed her hair into grasping tendrils, locked them into the cracks of the staircase wall, and pulled herself upright.
“Careful,” Kid said casually, his bright red mohawk bobbing up and down like a beacon as he made his way down the steps.
He was a rebel. That much was immediately clear to her when she found him eating lunch by the Academy’s old oak tree. Her oak tree:
“Am I in your spot?” asked a voice so brusque, it could have come from the gnarled oak itself.
“I don’t own it,” she replied.
“Neither do I,” he countered. “You can eat here. I don’t care.”
It was the most another student had said to her in over a month. And it was enough to convince her to descend a dark, dangerous staircase to…
“We’re here,” said Kid, his voice breaking Emira’s train of thought.
She stepped off the bottom stair. It smelled different down here – humid. The ground was soft. And there was a crack of light creeping through the seams of a closed door. Kid pushed the door open; Emira gasped again. The room was filled with sunlight. And stretched out in front of her was a garden full of plants, ranging from dazzlingly exotic to downright weird.