Captured Confession

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

We were walking through the mall. Maisie was rambling about school and her family and her friends. The ones who never have time to hang out with her. Who only come over to study and then go away in a group.

They know there’s something different about her, but they can’t see what.

“You’re such a good friend.” She mumbles, earnest words pushed through shyness.

I smile at her and squeeze her hand. Sometimes I wish I could speak to her. Could offer deeper comfort.

She does appreciate someone actually listening to her, though. Letting her release burdens.

Which she does, her cheery nattering broken by festive whispers. The sins she confesses are negligible yet weigh heavy on her tender soul.

Resentment towards the friends who use her. Frustration that her parents are focusing on her older brother, who has exams to deal with, and have let her become an afterthought. Knowing who was bullying the new girl at school but not speaking up to the teacher.

“I should write a note or something, shouldn’t I?” Maisie chews on her lip, smearing her purple chapstick so it forms a loop below the natural cherry peeking out.

I squeeze her hand and nod twice. Once is easy to shrug off. Three times is pressuring.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Maisie relaxes into determination. “I’ll put a note in my homework planner. Then I’ll scribble it out once Mr Greene’s seen it.”

I smile broadly and nod three times. She beams back.

Then she spots something and stops, her eyes widening.

I look but see nothing. Not until she points to the green light on the booth.

“Someone put money in but didn’t use all the photos! Come on.”

It takes me a moment to remember what a photo booth is, and another two to realise that she wants to take a photo together. She’s towing me behind and doesn’t notice how my frozen feet glide over the floor.

What do I do?

Maisie is giggling. Giddy with excitement. Saying how she’s so glad that she dressed to match me today.

She never comments on how I always wear the same clothes. She has very few to choose from herself, all just as out of date as mine. In her case it’s because they’re hand-me-downs or from charity shops. She assumes I’m the same.

Her hand is still wrapped around mine. Escaping would reveal.

As she presses the button I decide to give her a final message.

“Maisie…”

She gawps. Not just at my sudden speaking; I’ve never been able to Glamour my voice.

But I press on, hoping she hears the words as well as the eerie whisper. “You’re a good kid and a very good friend.”

Our eyes are locked as the flash goes off, and in that moment she truly Sees me. I pass through her limp arm and the curtain and flee back to the lonely cubicle where I died eight years ago.

Prompt was “A photo booth camera captures the moment when a girl confesses something to her friend.”