Little Juliet
by Polina Raevskaya
Winter. It was cold, probably the coldest winter in the last 5 years. It was early morning, so the street was dark enough. Children were already awake, they were playing snowballs. Behind the garages were teenagers, perhaps their older brothers and sisters. All of them were smoking, and had a beer bottle in their hand. All of them were pierced and had tattoos. They were scary. They did.
Anyway, those teenagers were looking after their sisters and brothers. At least that’s what they said.
The street was dark and scary. The trees on sidewalks had lost their leaves and the empty branches haunted every person. Silence conquered the Johnson Street. No cars could be seen. Johnson Street had always been dark.
It was daytime already. White, and burning their cheeks, cold snow fell on the heads of the children who were playing in the yard. Their blush cheeks were red as roses. Snowflakes, transparent like crystals, settled at the end of their long, jet-black lashes.
Juliet, the daughter of a saleswoman who worked in a kiosk, stood apart from the others. Frail and thin as a reed, she sat on a bench under a birch tree. Because of snow, the tree seemed even whiter.
Her hair, the color of straw, was tightly gathered in a ponytail. So curly and long, it nearly reached her waist. Despite the cold, she was dressed only in a white wool sweater and thin summer jeans. Thoughtfully, she stared into the smoke-gray sky.
“Wimp!” children taunted. Despite their age, the children were quite violent, very much so.
Juliet turned around; her eyes were filled with courage and bravery.
“Punch her!” one of the children shouted out.
Juliet turned around again. She saw some teenagers coming. Yes, it was that scary gang.
“I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid,” she whispered to herself, so nobody would notice.
Children became silent. Nobody spoke a word. They were frightened, even thou they knew those were their big brothers. The gang was getting closer. It was a group of huge, brawny bald guys in black hoodies, all of them in sagging pants. The teenage girls stood apart in a corner laughing about something, they stared at the group of small children and waited for something to happen…
“Take her money!” a guy ordered. He was huge and scary; if I was Juliet, I did not even dare to look at him. But Juliet looked right into his eyes, right to the pupil. He blinked.
“I don’t have any…” Juliet said in a strong, loud voice as same as she was an adult. She did not afraid; at least she did not show her fear.
But then she saw a knife. That’s it! A sharp, shiny knife blade was aimed right to her head. Juliet tried to dodge. The knife sliced cruelly across her forehead, it left a deep scar. It is scary to imagine what would happen if she didn’t evade. She sobbed. A thin trickle of blood flowed down; it ran down her cheek, and then her chin. Little blood drops dripped down onto her sweater.
Bitter tears froze immediately on her soft eyelashes which were covered with frost.
Juliet woke up in the hospital. Around her were people. Three, to be precise. Juliet tried to focus, have a better look at their faces. She raised her head up, but the pain in her forehead made her go back to bed immediately.
“I am here,” Juliet’s mother whispered. She did not want Juliet to see her tears.
Anyway, those teenagers were looking after their sisters and brothers. At least that’s what they said.
The street was dark and scary. The trees on sidewalks had lost their leaves and the empty branches haunted every person. Silence conquered the Johnson Street. No cars could be seen. Johnson Street had always been dark.
It was daytime already. White, and burning their cheeks, cold snow fell on the heads of the children who were playing in the yard. Their blush cheeks were red as roses. Snowflakes, transparent like crystals, settled at the end of their long, jet-black lashes.
Juliet, the daughter of a saleswoman who worked in a kiosk, stood apart from the others. Frail and thin as a reed, she sat on a bench under a birch tree. Because of snow, the tree seemed even whiter.
Her hair, the color of straw, was tightly gathered in a ponytail. So curly and long, it nearly reached her waist. Despite the cold, she was dressed only in a white wool sweater and thin summer jeans. Thoughtfully, she stared into the smoke-gray sky.
“Wimp!” children taunted. Despite their age, the children were quite violent, very much so.
Juliet turned around; her eyes were filled with courage and bravery.
“Punch her!” one of the children shouted out.
Juliet turned around again. She saw some teenagers coming. Yes, it was that scary gang.
“I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid,” she whispered to herself, so nobody would notice.
Children became silent. Nobody spoke a word. They were frightened, even thou they knew those were their big brothers. The gang was getting closer. It was a group of huge, brawny bald guys in black hoodies, all of them in sagging pants. The teenage girls stood apart in a corner laughing about something, they stared at the group of small children and waited for something to happen…
“Take her money!” a guy ordered. He was huge and scary; if I was Juliet, I did not even dare to look at him. But Juliet looked right into his eyes, right to the pupil. He blinked.
“I don’t have any…” Juliet said in a strong, loud voice as same as she was an adult. She did not afraid; at least she did not show her fear.
But then she saw a knife. That’s it! A sharp, shiny knife blade was aimed right to her head. Juliet tried to dodge. The knife sliced cruelly across her forehead, it left a deep scar. It is scary to imagine what would happen if she didn’t evade. She sobbed. A thin trickle of blood flowed down; it ran down her cheek, and then her chin. Little blood drops dripped down onto her sweater.
Bitter tears froze immediately on her soft eyelashes which were covered with frost.
Juliet woke up in the hospital. Around her were people. Three, to be precise. Juliet tried to focus, have a better look at their faces. She raised her head up, but the pain in her forehead made her go back to bed immediately.
“I am here,” Juliet’s mother whispered. She did not want Juliet to see her tears.