DYSTOPIAN | 💯 STORY CHALLENGE
Chapter 2: A Humble Instagram Tag
13 of 💯 —Vera Bloomberg wanted a community not a collective
The Engineered Bloombergs
See the first instalment here:
Vera peeled her hallow body from the floor, she began to collect supplies for her “great escape”.
Her existence though feeling fleeting and, of no use to her, figured it wouldn’t do to die at the hands of the people of Browndale.
If Sally could see her now she’d probably have something comforting yet slightly minimising to say like…
‘Vera, you are going a touch overboard darling, the townspeople just want to help you! They want to grieve with you!’
or
‘Maybe they’ve come to give you lasagna, they can’t see into your mind yet, remember?’
These invasive thoughts weren’t helping!
Sally wasn’t here. And really it was Sally who’d left her in this foul situation!
How dare she fucking get murdered!
…No that was wrong, She didn’t mean that — Vera knew her choices were those that lead her here.
She was aware of being a month away from being initiated into their hive mind. She had accepted this practice with open arms, without seeing the horror beneath sharing thoughts, emotions and suffering with an entire fucking town.
All she had seen was Sally, she needed her, would’ve given her life for her. Vera was blinded by love, consumed by it.
Her soft voluptuous lips were sent from the heavens, her taught breasts sculpted perfectly to fit in Vera’s awaiting palms.
Instead, Sally was dead.
#OurSallyBloom
This tag filled her Instagram feed, with loving memories of her wife from what appeared to be updated every minute or less? by a person in town.
Had they planned to split the posts to not appear all at once? Were they doing this to prove their love was stronger than hers for Sally?
The images and thoughtful stories were closing in on Vera.
Why did she pick up her stupid phone again?
She couldn’t remember…It was almost as though it summoned her onto the screen.
Vera peeled her heavy heart from the kitchen floor and applied her most inconspicuous clothing at light speed.
She wasn’t in her body anymore, her body was moving but she wasn’t sure how. She watched as if from above as she shoved some essential camp gear into her backpack.
She froze at the back sliding doors, as if suddenly reentering herself.
Staring out into the yard blooming with life, the yard they’d nurtured together and she was leaving it all for dead.
They’d be the ‘Bloom crazy Bloombergs’ Sally had giggled…
Where would she go? How would she get the hell out of this house unnoticed? How would long would she survive in the woods?
Running away from this little town raised a million questions. A million questions she didn’t have time to be questioning!!
She slid out the doors. Running straight into a tumble over the fence.
No one was around. Not even a cyclist or mother with a pram. This was strange but Vera wouldn’t let it raffle her… It was ok, she was ok, so far so good. She’d run until she found normal people, people who thought only their own thoughts not the whole blooming towns.
Flinging her first foot inside the dense forest she heard a voice
“Vera. Why did you do it Vera? Why did you kill Sally?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She wanted to keep running, wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard! But something in her told her not to leave when these nut jobs thought she killed her own fucking wife!
Swivelling around she saw not one interrogator but what looked to be the whole town…
“I WOULD NEVER! YOU PSYCHOS! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!”
Vera howled at the mass of bee-like humans who began swarming and buzzing around her.
“The guilty wouldn’t flee, Vera.”
Though said with intense calm Vera was petrified. She was surrounded.
Maybe she would die in this town just like Sally…
Isla’s stories escape her almost without permission. Walking her to unexpected courage with a taste of bravery and stolen lips meetings.
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