Lies

“Do you dream?” Ralph asked Molly. “I dream sometimes. I dream I’m flying and the sky is blue and full of sound…” He didn’t struggle against the wire-ropes that bound him to the crumbling, white walls. Instead, he looked up at Molly with his bright orange eyes, past thick brown hair that came down almost low enough to hide the fleshless strip on his check where she could see his silver cheek-bone.

“Don’t these places make you sad? Didn’t they call them suburbs? Why would they ever leave the city? Molly, I love the city!” She struck a match and watched it as it blazed at the tip, then worked its way down the stick, licking the wood and turning it black while the flame went from yellow to a violet-blue.

“Will it hurt?” Ralph asked. His eyes were such a deep blue, Molly could have mistaken them for the fresh-water reservoirs under the city.

“It won’t hurt,” Molly answered. She struck another match and watched Ralph watch the flames get closer to him.

“Stop!” a voice behind her commanded.

“Why?” Molly asked, slowly turning around and letting the match burn until it went out in her fingers, turning her tips black. The man speaking to her must have been in his later thirties with sandy hair and shifty, dark eyes. He was handsome and his mouth looked like he was used to smiling often.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s not your business.”

“This is my house. My business.”

“Bullshit. The city owns this place.”

“I am the city. I own this place,” the man said, coming closer. He was a lot taller than Molly. At least six feet tall. Only as he got closer did he notice the silver that glittered along her arm and within her hand. “I know you!”

“You do?” Molly asked, smiling. She took a step back to see his face better. It looked strange when he came too close. She had to crane her neck upwards and did not like the way it felt.

“Sure, everyone knows you, Molly!” Ralph laughed. His boyish grin lit up his whole face and his orange eyes glittered like little camp-fires.

“Molly…yes. That’s what they call you. The gangs. You’re their little angel. They use you, you know.”

“And they know I use them back. No point in doing business if we don’t both get something out of it.”

“What do you get out of it, Molly? He came closer again. Now he was between Molly and Ralph, who wiggled in his restraints trying to see Molly better.

“Molly, will it hurt?” Ralph asked her.

“It won’t hurt a bit, Ralph,” Molly said, striking a third match. The man moved to stop her, but Molly was a lot faster. The flame spread over Ralph almost as soon as Molly dropped the match on him. He laughed and screamed, shrieking like a wild animal.

“Molly, you lied. You lied!”

The man lurched towards the door. She watched him as flames spread around her, licked her calves, kissed her cheeks. Then she ran after him. His flesh was soft.