Flash Fiction: Worth It

Two robberies, a purse-snatcher, and one giant robot. Not a bad night overall. Ash stripped off her costume, shaking out her curly black hair in front of the bathroom mirror.

A thick cut was now sticky over her left eyebrow. The skin over her right shoulder and collarbone was bright red, and would probably be purple tomorrow. She could barely close her right fingers. But the thieves were in police custody, found sleeping soundly at the scene, the purse-snatcher turned himself in after getting thoroughly beat by a diminutive teenager in spandex, and the robot was a smoking twist of metal outside the city borders.

Tomorrow she’d hide the bruises, stumble through a trigonometry test, lie to her teachers, and probably fall asleep in sixth period. Out all night, that tomorrow was a few hours away. She leaned over the sink at herself in the bathroom mirror. “Worth it,” She whispered to the glass.

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