Creative Writing Endeavor: Brig

She gripped her friend's hand, her strained knuckles white and aching from the pressure, the beautifully manicured nails cutting into her flesh.

"Don't do it, Viv. You have every reason in the world to live!"

Despite her best efforts, her voice was mostly carried away by the wind howling off the cliff as it plunged down to the jagged, angry rocks miles below them. She didn't take her eyes off of Viv's feet-- clad in ruby-red stilettos that perfectly coordinated with her striking lipstick-- as they shuffled closer to the edge of the rocks the two girls balanced precariously on.

"It's over-- it's all come to naught, Brigitte! I opened my soul to them, only to have it brutally crushed beneath their ungrateful feet and spit on! All I wanted to do was make the world a more joyous place, but they took pleasure in denying me that!"

Brigitte's eyes stung as she tried unsuccessfully to fight back the burning tears that came with the memory Viv forced back to the front of her mind.

It had been like any other day, save the buzzing and bustling that surrounded Brig as she tried to dutifully perform her tasks at work. Her coworkers had been talking-- no, gossiping-- relentlessly about the rumored appearance Viv would make that day. She'd just returned from what she described on her blog as, "A life-changing experience" at her favorite set of boutiques and had vowed to showcase her newest find so that everyone could share in the jubilation that such rare and precious a treasure existed.

Everyone was consumed with guessing what it was Viv had found. Brig watched in partial amusement-- and partial horror-- as individuals took blood oaths and passed wadded thousand dollar bills into one another's sweaty palms where they stood around the water cooler, a fierce, maddening look in their eyes. She couldn't prevent the audible gasp from escaping her lips when she watched one co-worker pass another the birth certificate of his first born child. Apparently no possessions-- vehicles, homes, or children-- were safe from being gambled away in what was quickly becoming a deadly, horrific bet.

Brigitte would never forget the moment Viv walked in the room. Not because of the radiant glow that shined off of her body like rays of the sun warming a frigid tundra; not because of the cries of pleasure and ecstasy that poured forth from the lips of everyone in the room; not even because of the magically coordinated, polished ensemble that Viv sported; no, it was the mystical, compelling object that hung from her arm-- the most brilliant, awe-inspiring, truly resplendent handbag Brig had ever laid her eyes upon. It was as though every soul in the room had been granted the sweet opportunity to be in the presence of something grander, something more meaningful than themselves. It was an utterly spiritual experience.

Viv's smile was almost as glittery as the sacred artifact in her hand. She hardly took notice of the broken, lifeless faces of her begrudged coworkers who had foolishly placed bets on her sporting a new scarf or jeweled necklace. Instead, she held the bag out with one hand for everyone to enjoy and worship, passing out cards from where she purchased it with the other. "We could all have matching ones, we'd be adorable," she cooed to the room over the bustle beginning to surround her. Life, for a brief moment, seemed beautiful.

It all ended in the most dark, evil way imaginable.

"Let go of me Brigitte! There's nothing anyone can do now!"

Viv's cries jolted Brigitte back to the moment in front of her, mascara now staining her cheeks as the tears continued to cover her face.

Viv pulled against Brigitte's grasp, sliding another inch closer to the edge of the dusty cliff, this time straining her free arm so that the bag-- the marvelous, sublime relic-- swayed in the wind and hung dangerously over the deep pit below. Brigitte watched in horror as a slip of paper floated out of Viv's bag, torn from its safe resting place inside by the rapid, wild wind whirling around them. It floated in front of her face for a brief moment-- an ink and blood splattered, wrinkled piece paper partially torn on one edge. It looked like a poem, but it flew by too fast for Brigitte to read it.

"Viv! Look what you're doing! You can't want this! We'll make this right-- we have before, many times! It is the price we pay for our lifestyle-- you know it better than anyone!"

Viv opened her lips, the protest ready to pour forth, when suddenly, they heard a voice beckon them from behind. It boomed ominously, sending a stinging chill up both of their spines that threatened to topple them both off the cliff.

"Vivienne-- you and I have unfinished business."

TBC