Danger Days

Chapter Six

Plastic Parade stared into the eyes of Nicotine Kid, who had stood there with wide eyes.

"You look... familiar."

"It's me," Plastic said, her voice breaking. "Millie."

Nicotine's eyes widened. "Millie? Plastic?"

Plastic nodded, her eyes stinging. "Can I come in?"

She nodded and stepped aside, allowing her to enter. The room was painted black, but drawings completely plastered the walls, held up by thumbtacks of all colors and shapes. Her bed was sitting in the corner, with a dark comforter with a skeleton on it. The bedside table was covered in papers and pencils, and a pink mp3 player connected to a small black speaker shaped like a bomb.

"Hallie," Plastic half sobbed, trying desperately to reign in her emotions.

"How did you survive?" Nicotine asked, her green eyes wide.

"Long story," she chuckled, rubbing her eyes furiously. She sat on the bed, and Nicotine followed suit. The two stared at eachother.

Nicotine looked different than Plastic remembered her. She was taller, for one thing, and her hair, which used to come down so far she could almost sit on it, now came down to her shoulders, and was a faded teal color. Her childhood acne had cleared up, so her pale face and rosy cheeks were clear. Her green eyes and unusually large pupils were the same, however, although now they were framed by a black and red mask.

"You got taller," Nicotine noted, blinking rapidly. "And you cut your hair."

"You did too," Plastic laughed. "And you colored it. It looks nice."

"Thank ya." she chuckled. "Your new mask is fabulous."

"That old one was a piece of crap," she muttered. "Broke in the sun. Still have the pieces though."

"You hoarder," Nicotine chuckled.

The two stared at eachother for a bit longer before Plastic spoke. "Is... is mom here?"

Nicotine shook her head. "She... died in a firefight. Three years ago."

Plastic's spirits shattered. "Oh."

The silence following was uncomfortable.

"God, I can't believe you're here," Plastic sighed. "Nine years. You're what... seventeen now?"

"Eighteen," Nicotine corrected. "You always get it wrong."

"God," Plastic muttered. "It's been so long."

"Don't say that," Nicotine chided.

"What, God?"

"Quit it. It's disrespectful."

"Don't tell me you're still a Christian after all this."

"Don't tell me you're not."

They glared at eachother before Plastic broke. "Let's not fight, not so soon after coming back."

"Fine."

Plastic smiled at her sister. "Still can't hug you, right?"

"Nope," Nicotine said with no emotion. "I don't like touching people."

Plastic was tempted to reach forward to do so anyway, but decided to respect her boundrys, for once.

"I better go," Plastic said. "I should... explore. Get familiar with this place."

"Alright," Nicotine said. "Close the door behind you, all right?"

"kay kay."

And she did.

She knew her sister wasn't the most touchy feely of people, and that she didn't like physical contact, but she couldn't make an exception, not just this once?

Plastic pushed down her negative feelings so that the happiness could bubble up. Her sister was alive.