It had taken the rumor ten minutes to get to her ears. Two teenagers, fighting about three blocks away. TEENAGERS had been the key word; a little voice inside of her head right away told her it could be Vera.
The desire to see her friend now was too strong and soon had her walking in the direction people told her. Sure, she received a couple of surprised looks in return – “why would someone wish to witness such thing?” –, they probably wondered as they heard her request. However, it wasn’t exactly what she wished to see; it was Vera. Oh, but how much she enjoyed being friends with her. While their personalities could sometimes crash, Katja would always treasure the minutes spent alongisde her best friend.
Upon her arrival, the uneasy muttering and looks aimed at one dark-haired girl in particular standing by a tree confirmed Katja was in the right place. Crimson was prominent in the brunette’s ‘outfit’, for her jacket was decorated with crimson spots and there was still a little on her palms.
“I don’t need to – bet you gave ‘im the beating of his lifetime.”, a smile dancing across her lips as she spoke.
“I wouldn’t usually say this, but I kinda like how your jacket’s looking. The red’s a nice touch.”
There were few things that could instill a sense of calm in Vera during her three worst moods; rage, hysteria, and numbness. One was a good cup of tea. No one ever believed it when she said it, but it was true; it reminded her of being a little girl at sadik and sitting in a circle with the other kids, young, pure, uncorrupted in a place so eager to damage them all. Another was the rain -- there was little like standing beneath a shower of cold, in the dark, lulling and focusing on the sound of the splashes. What could always bring her down, however, no matter how far she went and or how gone she was, was the sight or sound of one Katja Hrytsenko. Vera turned to take the redhead’s presence in, an easy and genuine smile replacing the manic one from before. The girl was a tie to her childhood, a time when she was something else; she was an anchor, and somehow, Vera had managed not to fuck it up irreversibly so far. God help her, she’d make sure to keep it that way. No matter what feelings she might or might not feel after half a bottle of vodka.
“And of his afterlife, I’m willing to bet. Unless there’s some seriously trippy angels in heaven just waiting to slip him one.” she gracefully spat out the blood that had pooled underneath her tongue, pursing her lips and putting her hands on her hips at the girl’s continued words. “Why, thank you. I read this tip in a magazine. A dash of colour can spruce up any old thing, apparently. Did you know?”
