“Writer’s block sucks.” The girl slumped in her chair and looked over at her best friend. “Willow, why do we get writer’s block anyways?”
“Randi, have you ever thought about asking someone other than me?” Willow gave her friend one of those ‘are you serious?’ looks and returned to her sketching. “I have no idea why you get writer’s block. I have no idea how writer’s block feels because I’m not a writer. I’m an artist.”
Randi stared at her. Willow was one of the most beautiful girls she had ever met, and one of the most talented artists too. With her long blonde hair, her shining golden eyes, and a dazzling, white smile, she was perfect. Randi often thought that she could never be that amazing, but Willow always said otherwise.
“Randi? Hello, earth to Randi? Are you in there?” Willow was standing in front of her, waving her hand in front of Randi’s face. “C’mon, you know I hate it when you space out like that.”
Randi shook her head and brushed her black hair out of her face. “Sorry Willow, maybe you should blame our writer’s mind for creating us. She’s amazingly strange, you know.”
They both turned their heads towards the wonderfully beautiful sound of a violin. It was drifting through the wooden door from across the hall.
Willow closed her eyes and rocked from side to side, smiling. “You know Randi; you should learn to play the violin like Jenna. It would be more entertaining than all that stupid writing you do.”
Randi rolled her eyes and tried to focus on her writing, but no ideas came. A blank document in Microsoft word, the little line blinked in and out of existence in front of her. But then, just as she thought about giving up, she saw a spark. And the spark turned into a little flame.
“Hey guys! What’s up?” It was then that Willow and Randi realized that the sound of the violin had stopped.
“Umm, Jenna, you totally killed my inspiration.” Randi turned in her squeaky black swivel chair, and looked at her with all the fires of hell in her heart shining. Grinding her teeth, she turned back around. “I’ve been searching for that all day, and now I’ve lost it, and it’s all your fault.”
Jenna smiled and leaned back on her heels, crossing her arms over her chest. “Randi, you need to have at least a few brain cells to even know what inspiration means.” Her high-pitched laugh echoed inside the room.
“Jenna, why don’t you go get eaten by a shark or something.” A small voice drifted over from the doorway. A small girl walked forward, taking small steps toward them, a battered brown teddy bear tucked under her arm. Her long black hair fell around her shoulders, her eyes the palest blue with flecks of silver. She looked as if she was a fragile, little doll, made of glass, and if you dropped her, she would shatter into millions of pieces.
She stopped in front of them and looked up into Jenna’s eyes and cocked her head to the side. Her face held no expression, and her eyes seemed so big compared to her little body.
“Keeli, what the hell?” Willow went over to her and bent at the hips, meeting on her level and looking her directly in the eye. She glared at her with the deepest hatred burning behind her eyes. “You may think you’re so cute, but you’re just creepy.”
Keeli just smiled and swished her torn black dress around her knees, turned around and skipped out of the room, poking her tongue out at Jenna as she turned out the door and down the hallway.
Jenna sighed. “Damn that kid gives me the creeps.” She shivered.
Then came a simultaneous “Yeah.”
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