A Secret Code Between Women: Are You Safe? In A Contact Of Eyes. Im Here If You Need Me, The Littlest

a secret code between women: are you safe? in a contact of eyes. i’m here if you need me, the littlest shift of a skirt, of an inclined head, of watching the man who is asking you to smile, bitch. you aren’t alone on the walls of restrooms, i was where you are too. the quiet doling of emergency numbers, the shelters. the space between two women in a largely empty train station. the waiting game of two women strangers who walk, quietly and quickly, to their cars in abandoned parking lots, who watch to be sure the other leaves safely. text me you get home safe. the tally marks of drinks on hidden wrists, carefully disguised as other things ever since men picked up on what it meant and used it to target the “weakest link.” 

my father tells me we have nothing to worry about. last night he sent me one of those email chains that say at the top “Safety Tips For The Women In Your Life!!!! Don’t Let Her Die!!” 

me, and the stranger on the train. she is asleep and the man is asking me who i am going home to. i feel tears pricking the sides of my eyes. i am 13 while he towers over me. he reaches out one hand, and while i don’t know how she knows, she speaks up without opening her eyes: “If you touch my daughter, sir, I will murder you.” Whatever he grumbles is lost in history, because this moment I am so grateful for the existence of other people that I cannot breathe.

I am 19 and on my phone when i become aware of a 13 year old girl is smiling nervously at a man who’s saying disgusting things. I grab her arm. “There you are, cindy,” I say, and then look at the man like he is bile. “Do you need something from my sister?” i ask, and i walk away with her. she cries later.

this is the way of things: a silent, secret web. our promise to each other that despite our differences, when it comes to the wire, we become family, instantly. the unspoken promise. i’m here. i’m watching. i’ll witness.

Shoes

The other day in physical education, one of my friends wasn’t wearing his shoes during warm-up. The teacher (a sexist and arrogant asshole) called us to try to teach us something about badminton, he noticed that my friend wasn’ t wearing shoes. He asked why and my friend told him that he felt more comfortable for the warm-up and that it allows him to be more performant. My teacher asked for an exemple in sports where people do that and my dumb ass friend obviously told him, like the genius he is, that some people in Kenya train for marathon shoes-less. Long story short, they argued a little, but my teacher eventually made my friend shut up and the class went on.

Eventually, the teacher was playing games against two students and he wasn’t able to reach back enough to catch the birdie and the opposite team got the point.

And that’s were my dumb friend comes in. He screamed:

‘Maybe if you weren’t wearing shoes, you would have caught the lil birdie.’

The teacher ignored him, but now I’m pretty sure that my teacher hates my friend.

I just wanted to share this story.

‘You shouldn’t do... that...’ I started as the new girl started conjuring... something green with her hands.

She fell to the ground and she hit her head on the metal toilet when she receives electric shocks. I looked at her, lying on the ground and holding her head, I took a deep breath in and got up from the bed. I knelt beside her and I took her face in my hands.

‘Are you okay?‘ I asked.

She grabbed my wrists, most likely surprised. At first, I was sure that she would push me away, but she didn’t and I could look at her small wound on her forehead.

‘That was dumb, I sure hope that you know that.’ I told her.

She didn’t answer anything, she only lifted her eyebrows, most likely repressing a sarcastic comment. I stood up when I assumed that she would be okay. Smiling at her, I flipped my hair behind my shoulder and proposed her my hand so help her get up. But she ignored it and her eyes fell on my neck, noticing for the first time the same little machine that she has around her own neck.

‘Are you a mutant too.‘ She asked.

‘Nah... I just like the fucking neck-cage.’ I answered and I winked.

She smiled at me, sending me a knowing look.

Polaris: I failed my safety course today

Eclipse: Why? What happened?

Polaris: Well one of the questions was "In the case of a fire what steps would you take?"

Eclipse: And?

Polaris: Well apparently, "FUCKING LARGE ONES" isn't an acceptable answer.

Committing murder

Connor: *attractively freaks out*

Michaela: *annoyingly, yet cutely freaks out*

Laurel: *doesn’t freak out, was probably born for this*

Wes: *casually burns, decapitates and hides a body*

Reblog if you respect fanfiction writers and believe a fandom would be nothing without them.