Maleficent

My mind was a puzzle as I stared out at the lone tree swaying in the breeze. It was the beginning. The moment you spilled all those little pieces out onto the table and just wondered where the hell you were going to start. Then when you did, you would pick at the edges, piecing the border together slowly only to remember that there’s so much more. You’d picked at the edges, but the rest of the puzzle remained untouched. The frustration of it.

My gaze travelled down the thick trunk of the tree as I sat on the ledge of my windowsill. The rope of a swinging tyre moaned against the branch it hung on, groaning above the weight of my little sister. A small smile tickled at the corners of my lips as I watched her. Streams of gold locks trailed behind her, a soft giggle whispering through the breeze as dad pushed the four year old a little higher. His eyes caught mine as he glanced up and his smile beamed brighter. I smiled back half-heartedly.

“It’s so weird when I catch you in here, Allie,” came an amused voice. “It’s like I don’t even know you at all.”

I rolled my eyes before glancing over my shoulder at the most annoying person known in existence. My best friend Flora. “Will you cut it out with the damn nickname,” I muttered, narrowing my eyes at her.

The girl only laughed, bounding into my room and diving onto my no longer neat bed. For a moment I wondered how Flora could possibly time her entrances so perfectly. It seemed that the days I could be bothered making my bed, she would somehow magically appear. My still narrowed eyes trained on the girl suspiciously, clearly asking her why she had once again shown up unannounced.

“Touchy, touchy,” Flora answered, brushing my tone off with a wave. “Fern and Marie will be there soon, and you’re not even dressed yet.”

An exasperated groan begged to be heard, but I knew my reluctance would get me nowhere. Flora was a force to be reckoned with and the only person who could ever con me into whatever boring scheme she’d conjured up in that pretty doll head of hers.

“What is it this time?” I grumbled, pushing up from my comfortable seat.

Flora’s eyes widened a fraction as she palmed her forehead. “I cannot believe you forgot,” she pouted dramatically. “Actually, I can, but that is beside the point.”

I gave Flora an expectant look, waving at her to hurry it up.

“It’s Fern’s birthday, genius,” she finally said. “We’re heading to the Treehouse? Any of this ringing a bell?”

I nodded my head absently as I shoved on the closest pair of jeans and shirt I could find. Of course I remembered Fern’s birthday. She’d only been harping on about it for the past six months. But in the midst of my puzzled thoughts, it had briefly slipped my mind.

The Treehouse was a childhood favourite we’d found when exploring the woods out the back of Marie’s grandparent’s house. Though it wasn’t really a tree house. It was really just a collection of giant trees that had grown and woven together to create an amazing masterpiece of nature. I’d fallen into a little hollow, feeling amusingly like Alice from Wonderland and found what had become our little hideout, although nowadays it was mainly used for romantic getaways.

I pursed my lips at Flora as she dragged me carelessly out of the house and shoved me forcefully into the passenger seat of her little red hatchback. Why she had chosen fire engine red, I had no idea. But there were times it was extremely convenient. The colour wasn’t just red. It was RED! And it was hard to miss. Needless to say, I hated it. It was uncomfortably compact and smelled disgustingly of Flora’s candy scented air freshener.

Suburbia blew past in a sea of colours as the crazy person sitting behind the wheel sped down the narrow streets. I tried not to think of the many children almost victimised by my best friend’s psychotic driving. I tried hard to shut out the memory of their doe-eyed faces as the red car came screeching to a halt or swerved around their shaking bodies in a last minute arc.

“If you don’t slow down we’ll never make it,” I growled through clenched teeth.

Flora gave a light laugh, taking her eyes off the road for a little too long as she gave me an incredulous look. This was how it had always been with us. Ever since we were children she had been completely crazy. Climbing trees and catching animals. Jumping off cliffs and diving into the lake below.

And me?

I was beside her. Warning the ten year old barbie doll not to go through with her latest stunt. Promising her death if she did. And every time, she would convince me to follow. Beside my seemingly calm and logical persona was this absolute mental person who would con me into committing the exact insane feat she had pulled. I could safely say that it was why we were best friends in the first place.