Muse #25 – The Heat of the Moment

Muse #25 – The Heat of the Moment


I’ve got the MUSE for this week, and I’m hoping to begin posting more regularly, and with more useful posts. Is there something about writing you really wish I’d post? Something you’d love to learn more about?

Now, onto the MUSE for the day! 

The Heat of the Moment

I lie back on the chair, letting the warmth from the sun cover my skin like a blanket of warm honey. My eyes drift closed behind my sunglasses as the heat melts away the stress from earlier. Another fight with my best friend.

Our friendship has been one long fight for the last six months, and I don’t really know why. Sometimes I think she’s trying to push me away, but as soon as she gets done screaming, she’s crying and begging forgiveness.

Her mood swings are giving me whiplash.

Still, we’re on a tropical island, courtesy of her mom. Her parents are going through  a divorce and they’re both loaded. Hannah is milking it for all its worth. My mom and dad were perfectly content to let us go to the Caribbean under her mom’s supervision.

None of us, including Hannah, realized her mom was bringing Jorge, her secretary, along for the ride. He’s obnoxious and such an obvious leech. Hannah threw a fit, but her mother didn’t change her mind. Jorge came. They’ve been giggling like teenagers and slipping off on their own.

Hannah and I have made a point to avoid anywhere secluded. The last things we want to do is find them.

Until this morning. Hannah had another blow out last night when I offered to braid her hair for her since we were going out to a fancy meal on a nearby island. I still don’t understand why she was upset, but this morning she wouldn’t open her door, just told me to go out to the beach and she’d catch up.

Normally, I’d wait and try to soothe ruffled feathers. But I’m over it, and so I left her there.

Guilt swamps me, and a chill moves over my skin. But it doesn’t leave. My eyes flip open, and my breath catches with fear. Its not just a chill. It’s a shadow. I cry out for Hannah, but she’s nowhere around. Neither are Jorge or Hannah’s mom.

I’m on my own. All I can think as I roll from the chair and spring to my feet is that this is Hannah’s fault too. We thought a tropical island would allow us to escape, but it didn’t.

Sometimes the bonds between friends go deeper than friendship. Sometimes they’re secrets.

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