Even before his name left her lips, Flaky's face fell with devastation at the sight. Every little thing she had put effort in, the decorations, the tables, the treats, was . . . ruined. Obliterated. Demolished. And the boy she had grown close to, the one she considered a friend now, was in the midst of the wreckage.
It was in that moment that the fondness she had toward his impertinent disposition, the sweetness equivalent to that of honey which she had held especially for him, was shot.
It was shot, over and again, and it really did hurt.
Trust. Friendship. Laughs. Teases. Feelings. These were the happy elements that had been opened to both the paranoia fueled redhead and the lowbred larcener. The elements that turned to bricks. From where these bricks were highly placed amongst the clouds, they fell. Right on top of her head, one after the other. Each impact sinking her deeper into a hole of consternation, confusion, hysteria.
What was—why was—it was all so frustratingly befuddling. The conflagrant pain like her chest had been light on fire was excruciating. It was painful, so very painful, and it couldn't be helped.
So much was the pain that she didn't feel the heated liquid gathering in her eyes. Her focus was solely on the desolate, wide eyed twin. She had seen the bat at his feet, the rummage surrounding him, and yet she couldn't tear her stare away from his countenance. It seemed that the minutes and seconds had wound to a standstill, leaving them suspended in the dimension between time and space; no one moved, spoke, or dared to breathe. It was all too confounding.
If she had walked onto her friends kissing, the shock wouldn't equal this. If she was told by Sniffles his theory on why they resurrected each day after a gruesome death, the perplexity wouldn't have amounted. If she was slain at the hands of her monstrous friend, the betrayal wouldn't be comparable. But if she found out her friend was a double-crosser, a no good hustler, a lying cheat, it would be exact with her feelings.
To learn that the boy she had treated so nicely demolish all she had worked on, worked on for him, it was—was what? This feeling that stirred within her like a fire, which rose in her throat until it slammed against her teeth like they were bars on a jail cell, was anomalous. Abnormal, unfamiliar, one she had rarely felt; the only other time she'd felt so heated and with this bile-like emotion stuck in her esophagus was when Splendid had jived her as a young teenager.
And he had learned how far the extent of her patience ran when he pushed her over the edge. The one time this feeling of being vexed had shown; and also the time where the soft palm of her hand had made contact with the skin of a cheek. Though guilt and an immediate apology were ensued, the anger that had left in the open slap was quelling.
Now standing before Lifty, Petunia, Giggles, and a strangely quiet Nutty flanking her, there was no opening or hole where her ire could leave through.
Her fingers twitched and her heart palpitated wildly. The organ was beating rapidly and sending blood through her like waves, hot lava waves that burned. The coloration of her face grew deeper, looking like her tone was switching due to deprived oxygen. With the way her lips were pressed in a tight line, they could have disappeared completely. Eyes similar to a doe's glared into the grass, singeing the growing blades like a magnifying glass aimed at an ant.
Then she spoke, feather light and aberrantly calm. "What did you do."
Lifty pulled on the collar of his shirt, detecting the hidden anger she was using a great deal of self-control to smother. "Flaky, t-this isn't what it looks like." The truth and justice would prevail, or that's what Splendid had yelled to him and his brother on their last heist together. "Really, this, all of this, I didn't do it. I . . . wouldn't do this."
"Lifty," she made an arduous effort to keep collected, but her placidness was waning quickly. "Tell me the truth. Did you do this?"
"I already said I didn't."
"Then why is the backyard a w-wreck," Flaky stuttered over the word. "When we left it clean? You were the only person here when we left, why is it all. . ."
"If you'd simmer down for a minute then I'd tell you—"
"I am 'simmered down'," interrupted Flaky hotly. "I-I'm calm, if that's what you're implying. I just want to know—what happened here? Why did you. . ." She trailed off in a hopeless whisper, anger slipping into a small hurting voice. "Why w-would you even. . ."
Giggles turned a sharp look to him, evidently upset. "What is wrong with you? You come into my house and act like you're cool with us, then turn and obliterate everything? Why even bother helping if you were going to ruin it when we were gone?"
"Look," Lifty spoke sharply, "this isn't what it seems to be. I'm trying to explain that this was a product of a fucking sociopath that I have the blessing of calling my brother."
Giggles snorted. "Right. I recall Flaky saying that he wants no part of you, so why would he go out and mess up something that didn't affect him in the slightest?"
"It was none of your business in the first place, so I haven't a clue why you'd be sticking your powdered nose into my life problems. I gave Flaky the option to either keep what she knew to herself, or share it with who she pleased. But if I had known your pink ass would've been pawing through my problems, I sure as hell wouldn't have let you learn about it."
"Listen, buddy," Giggles sibilated, "from minute one I knew you were no good. But I trusted Flaky's judgment of character, and after today I thought you were adequate, nothing to be made a big deal of." She gripped Flaky's shoulders, painted lips tugging back in a menacing growl. "But I was wrong."
"I thought you had changed, as well," Petunia spoke quietly, but with an unmoving firmness, as though she was making a prudent decision about practical affairs. A sad smile touched her glossy mouth. "Flaky did sound overjoyed whenever she told us about your accomplishments. How she explained it, you seemed to have jumped into the lighter side of life."
"But what else should we have expected from a thief?"
Flaky quailed at the term, spotting the quick flash of pain cross his features. Lifty wasn't a thief, a liar, a cheat; no.
He's going to double cross you.
Giggles' harsh words were blocked out as a whisper of a voice brushed her ear. Flaky looked behind her shoulder, finding Nutty watching the heated argument between the pinkette and the twin brew. Looking forward, she watched the expressions that switched through Lifty's face without actually seeing them.
What's the rotten thief doing here?
There it was again, the whisper that only skimmed by her and faded into dead air.
It's not safe for you to be housing him anymore.
Flaky peered over to her friends, who seemed unmindful of any susurruses. Giggles had gone red and looked near to popping a vein, and though Petunia was the calmer of the two, she too seemed close to being driven up the wall. Flaky could only imagine what they were altercating about. But with a susurration shutting out any and all words every three seconds, and with her inability to read lips, it was impossible to understand what they said.
Why don't you just abandon him?
'What's going on? Who is this?'
You should have walked away when you had the chance. Now you're too wrapped up in his twisted life, you've been caught in a web of his troubles. And you won't be able to get loose if you don't cut some strings first.
Flaky shook her head. Was this voice . . . or voices . . . referring to Lifty? She couldn't make sense of what it was telling her.
Don't you get it? The voice sounded impatient. He lied to you. He hasn't changed, if he did would he have done this? He led you on, like a fool, making you believe that he was any different from that day you opened your domicile to him. You fell for him and his lies.
No, no it couldn't be true. Lifty had grown so much since they had met. The days, the weeks, they couldn't have been all a play, the words and things he'd said were sincere. If it was a game devised by him and his brother, why would they have waited so long to put it in action? If they had intended to rob her senseless or bring harm upon her, why wait? Why not jump on her when she turned around?
They had built a trust together, a stable wall that couldn't be dismantled. A friendship had grown and blossomed between the unlikely duo, flourishing despite the negativity that surrounded it like weeds. Others had tried to choke out the maturing companionship, the warnings and rumors were boots that could crush the sprout, but it had stood strong and endured the winds of hardship.
Flaky was the sunshine, lambent, gently caressing and illuminating the day, and unfaltering. Lifty was the night animal, secretive, scheming, and avoiding the light at all cost. Given time, she had coaxed him out and shown that a beam shone into the dark wasn't a bad thing. That ray could lead him through a confusing life where right and wrong were jumbled and indistinguishable, it would direct him onto the path that lead to righteousness.
He had potential, but he just needed a mentor who would help him apply it to life. She'd seen this and strived to egg him onwards, nudging him away from the twisted byway he'd taken as far back as he could recall. He was her friend, and friends made mistakes.
. . . Then why did she feel as hurt as she did right then?
If he's your friend, then why would he purposely hurt you? He must have known this would cause you pain, why else would he have done it?
The affliction reared back, the circumstances sharpening into clarity. This wasn't a matter of their amity, it was a matter of disregard for their work—a disregard to the effort she put into an event that would benefit him.
"And you don't have the courtesy to apologize for your wrongdoings?!" Flaky's ears popped and she heard Giggles' nearly screaming. "You just stand there arguing! You can apologize!"
"For what?!" Lifty thundered, losing the patience he'd had set aside for the explanation. If Giggles wasn't taking it, there was no point in trying. It was a lost cause to get into her head once she made a presumption. He brushed off the nagging string being tugged in the back of his mind, neglecting the little voice that said to be rational and to keep going with his attempts at making peace.
"You're terrible! Absolutely terrible! You're the most disagreeable, trouble making, no good man I've ever had the option of arguing with! It's a wonder you've been so compatible with Flaky for this long! Oh if you had landed on my doorstep I would have—!"
How they lashed out, that was the terrible thing. "S-stop it," Flaky said in an undertone.
"And you think I like hearing your squeaky accusations?! You're as thick as a wall, can't you hear me when I say I wasn't the cause of this? If I'm terrible, what are you?"
"Stop it." She couldn't divert her eyes from the grass.
"At least I'm someone with a heart," she said frigidly. It withheld Lifty's comebacks for a passing moment, desisting his side of the quarrel and leaving him stiff like cardstock. Flaky spared a side glance, but didn't offer much more. "But of course, one has to be cold and ruthless if they're going to betray a friend and feel guiltless."
"Please, s-stop." Flaky bit, and tore, the skin of her lip, a watery dribble trickling out of her eyes.
"Why don't you shut the fuck up? Look at you, acting like you know all the facts when, actually, you don't know anything."
It was time to stop this. "Y-you guys, stop!" Flaky bleated her desire with helplessness. "B-both of you! Arguing isn't g-going to get us anywhere! Please!"
Giggles almost protested, before catching her shining, glazed look the redhead sent. A sure sign the conflict was bringing her to tears.
Flaky englutted the golf ball in her throat, the eyes of her friends probing her shaking figure. Now that the spotlight was on her, she froze up. What had she expected to say that would make Lifty look blameless?
Lifty took the responsibility of stepping forward, foot kicking the bat away, and voicing his words first. "Flaky," the name running over his tongue brought a soothing sense, but didn't fully erase the anxiety he held. "I know what you're gonna say, and before you do, you have to believe that I wouldn't do this."
Giggles scoffed.
He ignored it, but the look of desperation for her to hear the truth in his words was obvious. "Please," he entreated her, an earnest take in his tone she hadn't had the liberty of hearing before. "Do you think I would do this? You have to believe me."
Flaky hadn't raised her eyes or said she'd forgiven him, like she would have in any other circumstance. It worried him, but he felt secure, believing she would wait to hear his account before conjuring up a misconception.
Boy, was he wrong.
When Flaky raised her stare, her watering scarlet reds said it all. She sounded congested, sick, as if her nose were stuffed or her throat was sore. Her smile was in its place, saddened and struggling to keep upturned. "I want to believe you, Lifty," she examined the wreckage once more, "I really do."
The smile faltered and ceased to exist all together. "But I can't. I just c-can't." Red bangs swept down from where they were tucked behind her ear, ensconcing her shrunken pupils that overflowed with a surplus of sorrow. It was best if her eyes were obscured, then she wouldn't be apprised with the blankness his features took on. "I want to trust you so badly," her voice broke—the tears had escaped and wormed down to drip off her chin. "I-I want to know you'd n-never lie to me."
"Flaky—!"
"I w-want to be able to know s-straight away that I can t-trust your word, that I d-don't have to wonder if what you're saying is true." The teardrops cascaded like a waterfall the more she attempted to restrain them, her will to be strong and refrain from being a crybaby declining. She caught the discharged water in her cupped hands and marveled at how fast they poured. "I can't though, I c-can't because you haven't g-given me a reason for why I s-should."
Friends gained and gave their trust, and she had held her end of that up. She had given reasons, showing how she would be there like the never failing sunrise. There had been events where she'd shown a patent feat of loyalty; she had stayed behind with him. For him. It was always for him. She didn't require someone to be her backbone, she could handle that herself, so Lifty wasn't given the chances she had to gain trust.
Flaky had just given it.
But as easily as trust was given, it could be just as easily taken away.
Sighing, she brushed her fingers over her eyelids. There was a time where they said nothing, her words suspended and taking their effect on him. "And because of t-that," Flaky felt her heart tightening again as she spoke inaudibly, "I want you to go."
Lifty choked on his words of apology. What had she said? "W-wait, what? You want me to go as in—go?"
"That's what I said," she said in with a calm steadiness that differed from the tense ambience. "I would like you to go right away. I don't want you to be here a-anymore." The ending word cracked, betraying her sense of control.
It betrayed the idea that she was certain she wanted this. If one was to mean what they say, it wasn't well to stutter. Others could develop doubts.
"You don't want me here?" Lifty asked confoundedly. He had gone from having assurance that she'd see through the lies, to having an apprehension, a dread. Because if she didn't want him, who would? "How can you not . . . believe me?" He made a move to touch her shoulder, but he hadn't anticipated the flinch he would receive. The dread grew as Flaky removed his hand and stared at him—no, through him—with listless eyes.
"I don't," she squeaked, finding it increasingly challenging to repress her cries at his pained visage. The hand dropped flimsily. "I'm sorry."
"You're just mad, I know you wouldn't say this. This isn't the Flaky I know!"
"A-and that wasn't the Lifty I knew," she rubbed her nose, sniffling. "P-please just go." Flaky winced at the hand he touched her arm again with; she hadn't wanted it to come to this, but he had brought it upon himself.
"You need to say you believe me," pleaded Lifty, "just say it once and—" Two feeble hands pressed against his chest, an exertion exiting them and forcing him back.
Flaky had pushed him. She had just . . . pushed him?
Her soft demeanor was gone and replaced with an angered one. Though the tears he'd seen dozens of times before were there, the gentleness had fleeted and left behind an emotional wreck. "Lifty!" Flaky rose her voice beyond softness. "D-don't touch me!"
The shout left the yard deathly quiet. Her friends and the twin were startled, astounded by the frustration the shy redhead was overwhelmed with.
"I'm telling y-you to go! What can't y-you understand about that?! I-it's five simple words!" Flaky no longer stared at him directly, instead her blazing, passion filled gaze was aimed her shoes. She shook in pure anger, or perhaps it was her small body telling her it was releasing whatever feelings it kept pent up, or maybe it was a combination of them. This feeling, it was hot and hit stronger than the first rush she'd gotten when seeing the wreckage minutes earlier.
And it was because of Lifty she felt this.
Lifty sputters were cut off by the flaring girl, Flaky holding her hands to her face, the warm droplets smearing and disturbing her flawless skin. "N-no! Stop! Don't talk! P-please, don't say anything anymore!"
"F-Flaky," Giggles forgot her argument with the thief for the concern of her friend. "Are you okay? You seem like you're about to explo—"
"Because I a-am!" she practically screamed. It was tearing her apart, couldn't they tell?! She deeply wanted for this to be behind them already, to have Lifty and her seated on the comfort of her couch. He would tease her, she would giggle or try to give a comeback, and they'd be content with each other's presence. That would be no more, and they both knew it. "I f-feel betrayed a-a-and hurt and I don't know what t-this is called!"
One last chance. The boy should've known she would break more if he touched her, like a fragile China doll. So when he rubbed her arm, hoping to get a reaction of forgiveness from her, she shattered.
"Get out!" Flaky screamed as she fell back into Petunia's open arms. "G-get out! Get o-out! GET OUT!" Those were the only two words she could shout, all others wouldn't get her point across clear enough. The hurt left with every scream, but no matter how many times she shouted and cried, the existing pain wouldn't stop attacking her body.
It was a sickness, a plague, which harmed her and couldn't be relieved.
"I-I want you to go back to Shifty! Or someone! A-Anyone! J-just get out of here!"
The accusing stare of Giggles landed on him again, this time followed with one icy sentence. "Leave, now."
He wasn't wanted here, by the person he thought would always be his friend. What a joke. He was the joke. Lifty roughly rubbed away the stinging that assaulted his peepers and pushed his way past Nutty. Why be somewhere where he'd be yelled at, a place that was causing him angst.
He didn't know when he left the backyard, but suddenly his was leaving down the street. Leaving Flaky behind, crying and suffocating on her own sadness.
"Woah," Nutty said. Sensing it was time for the girls to be together, he giggled anxiously and put a carton box on the floor. The cake box. "I-I didn't know Lifty was that bad! Ahaha, eheh, eh . . . I'm gonna be . . . over there!" He ran and took refuge in the house where her crying was fainter, saving his numb ears from going deaf.
The sniveling girl clung to her blue haired friend, the smell of lemons and hand sanitizer acting as a small comfort. Petunia kneeled on the floor under Flaky's dead weight, murmuring words of sympathy and brushing out her hair. Seeing their smallest and most sensitive friend in such a poor state, her eyes puffy and face blotchy, it was heartbreaking.
"M-mm," Flaky whimpered, opening one swollen eye and seeing the box. "C-can you g-give me that, p-please?"
"This?" Giggles pushed it to her, but thinking better of it began pulling it back. "O-Oh I don't know Flaky, I think we should just throw it away and—"
"Please just g-give it to me." When the box lay before her, Flaky slipped out of Petunia's arms and flipped it open. Frosting, bright frosting, and a saying written in precise cursive. She was tempted to trace the connected letters, but didn't, depleted of her energy from her outburst.
'You're Awesome, Lifty!'
Flaky glared at it, a surge of fury and convulsions guiding her movement. The raising of her arms, the contracting of her face, and the drop of her balled fists that squished the mushy treat. And again. And again. And again, until the frosting splattered her hair and face, staining her clothes, and her throat was hoarse from her screaming.