Flash Fiction: Her Name

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything fiction since I’m finishing up my rewrite. I look forward to starting my new novel idea (the one that will be the hardest and most rewarding to write) until the next one comes along. In the meantime, here is a little story I had no idea I would write until my fingers were punching the keys. Okay, maybe a little bit of strategic mapping within my brain. Enjoy.

*******

Her name was a name like no other. Her name was a name I don’t remember. Her name was a name her mother must’ve thought at the last minute. However, her face brought a different kind of emotion. It was one of fast relief. It was one of strong joy. It was one that her father could not deny. She was a strange little child, but boy did she make random eyes stare inappropriately.
 
She grew up to be a beautiful teenager and much too young to be thought of in such a vile way. She could’ve been a model with those long legs. She could’ve been a basketball player with those long arms. Her father begged her to join the high school team and it disappointed him greatly when she took no interest in his love of sports. She answered his statements with questions.

Who is Larry Bird?
 
Who is Michael Jordan?
 
Who is Karl Malone?
 
Who is Shaquille O’Neal?”
 
Why would I care that Pearl Jam’s lead singer wanted to name his band Mookie Blaylock?
 
By the time she graduated high school, she had quite the following on social media. People swooned over her videos on Instagram. People enjoyed her snappy comebacks when haters attacked her on Twitter. People liked her Facebook posts all hours of the day and night. She had become a worldly sensation. Her future had become an opportunity of social media bliss.
 
So, it was a shame when the effects of her narcissism knocked at her door on a fall day. She had gone through many phases in her short life and now it had come full circle. The rapping got louder.
 
“Keep your pants on,” she yelled.
 
She opened the door and found a man in a long coat. “You need to come with me,” he said.
 
"The hell I do.  Who are you?” she asked.
 
“That shouldn’t concern you,” he said.
 
He clamped one of the cuffs on her wrist and twisted it enough she had no option but to comply.
 
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she screamed.
 
“I’d advise you to shut your mouth. You’re only making it worse,” he said.
 
She failed to pick up her feet as he ushered her toward the door.  He picked her up by the scruff of her collar and took her outside to his car.  Her curious neighbors looked out their windows and took pictures with their cellphones.

“You’re going to be sorry.  My dad's going to have your ass.  He’s a powerful man in this city,” she said.
 
“Not as powerful as the big eye in the sky,” he said.

 “I'm fucking innocent,” she screamed.

 "That's what they all say."  He shut the door before she could say another word.

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