They faced her, battalion-like. No chink in the group armour. Tess defeated before they’d begun. It didn’t matter really - the supposed due
process; guilty pre proven innocent, as she was.
There had been no warning prior to the descent upon her –
simply a gathering of the girlish forces, en masse. Then the accusation. The declaration. Stupid, really.
She knew the girl concerned.
The name – Sam - at least. Too
little for it to hold meaning, still less for there to be any chance of her
involvement. She couldn’t even track
where it had all supposedly started, in amongst the needling and demands; the
clamour for the truth. All over some boy
she had blatantly never heard of. Try
telling them that though. She did, for what it was worth, though they
weren’t listening; indistinguishable in agreed condemnation. Safe amongst their numbers. Words as weapons, wielding them; the wrongfully
righteous against the sole mistaken condemned.
Tess, alone.
She wasn’t a gossip!
Silence. A level
gaze. Again, her denial. Again – and again.
Still the stares, dead-eyed.
Indifferent. No break in the
ranks.
“God, just leave her.
She’s pathetic.” One voice. The dismissal and departure. No concessions. Last person.
Gone.
Tess, alone.
Defeated.
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201 words written for this week's Race The Date flash fiction challenge. Based on the prompt "outnumbered". Check out previous entries/challenges here.
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