This piece was written for a 24 hour writing competition. The first section was given to the writers as the prompt – the prompt ends in the fourth sentence after “and saw”. I wanted to take it down a dark and eccentric path (I figured no one would go dystopian). It wasn’t originally designed to be flash fiction, it just coincidentally ended up being under 1,000 words. I think the word limit was between 0 – 2,000 with a zero word short story being rejected almost immediately. Either way, enjoy Cookies:
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She rolled her eyes as another one of her cabin mates tried to stifle sobs. She couldn’t believe she had to stay at this horrible camp all summer! Her stomach growled. As she stepped toward her trunk for a forbidden snack, she tripped on a loose board. Curious, she leaned over to peek between the cracks, and saw cobwebs, dust, some insects she didn’t recognize, and the lack of a symbol. A sigh escaped her mouth as a grumble rumbled from her stomach. With a groan, she pushed upon the floor and righted herself. Her fingers – slightly plump – pulled the fabric down from the inside of the trunk, Oreos. She took one and split it, she sucked on the chocolate exterior until it turned into pudding. There was no need for chewing. With one sliding down her gullet, she pulled the cream from the cookie and put the white substance back into the container. Again, she pulled the nutrients from the chocolate wafer. It slipped down with ease, but she couldn’t relish in the delightful taste because of the sobbing.
Another treat left the case of Oreos, as the girl – a woman in mental age – put her lips next to her cabin mates ear, “Robin, here”—she put the cookie in the new girl’s hand—“not all at once, suck on it. It’ll help with the pains.” She checked the other girls, their stomachs growling in their sleep.
Like a child, Robin didn’t listen, and crumps hit the girl as Robin spoke, “Thanks Ann”—crumbs bounced from Ann’s face as her pursed lips remained hidden due to the lack of light—“Do they”—another sob—“feed us tomorrow.”
“I don’t know, this is my first time at this camp.” Ann was beginning to stand when a fat hand wrapped its way around her wrist. Robin’s voice was beginning to calm down but sobs still interrupt her speech, “Why… no… no… food… I don’t think they hate us?” Ann put her finger over Robin’s lips. Ann crouched next to her bunkmate as Robin riddled off another question, “What was that?”
A slight chortle passed Ann’s lips, “That was an Oreo, they help us. One of those cookies is packed with enough calories to keep us mobile.” Ann thought for a moment about the first question but finally spoke, “They do hate us. They hate us because they are assholes.”
A slight chuckle, and Robin asked, “You’re silly. That’s not why.”
“We’re different… they don’t like seeing us. The camps are nice for that.” Ann stopped herself before she gave away her position in the resistance.
“The camps are nice.” Robin misunderstood what Ann had meant.
A sigh from Ann, “Sure are nice. I wish I had some juice.”
“What is juice?”
“Let’s get some sleep.” With another sigh, Ann went to stand.
Again, the fluffy hand wrapped around her wrist – it was tight – and Robin cooed, “Tell me, why do you hate us?” Ann knew that Robin knew.
Ann licked her lips, remained standing, and answered with pure hatred in her voice, “I don’t hate us. They hate us because they find us ugly.” It was blunt, but the truth. Ann gave a history lesson, “First, they forced the red hairs to dye it black. Then it was the porcelain skinned ones, they were forced to tan. They wanted homogeneity. Colors, dyes, surgery, those don’t work on us but the camps do.”
Fear was apparent in Robin’s voice, “You’re, you’re a revolutionary. The cookie…” Ann pried the hand from her wrist and escaped to her bunk and trunk. A girl stirred as Robin’s shaky voice continued, “They knew. You people, you want to keep us unhealthy. They told me, if, if you were, and I tattled, they would move me to the special camp. I tattle and save everyone.”
A snarl from Ann, “There’s no special camp and you would doom me.” Ann reached into her trunk and began splitting the Oreos in half and collected the filling.
Robin’s voice became stern, “There is a special camp.” She huffed as she finished.
Crumbs fell from Ann’s mouth as she spoke, “Sure.”
Another girl woke up and rubbed drowsiness from her eyes, “What’re you doing?”
“Ann is a revolutionary.” Robin sold her out.
The girl didn’t hesitate, “Take me… take me with you!”
“Not a problem.” Ann smiled at her new comrade, “What’s your name?”
“Molly.” The girl stood and collapsed. Ann took time to hand her the left over chocolate wafers. Sounds of happiness filled the cabin as the girl devoured the cookies and grew strong. As she swallowed the last chunks of food, she found her voice, “Thank you, you’re what my mom called an angel.”
Ann smiled, “Nope, just a terrorist.” The girl stood and Ann put the frosting together into a small ball and walked to the door that was locked. She continued speaking as she stuck it where the hinges should have been, “Robin you can starve here in hopes of becoming like them”—she pulled two chocolate pieces and smashed them on the cream filling—“I’ll live a delusional life and survive on the outside.” A small pop was heard as the door fell away. Molly hobbled through and toward the tree line. Ann turned to Robin, “But, just so you know, we have food.”
Robin stood with wide eyes, “I like food.”