Antagonist - protagonist
August 03, 2012
This weeks challenge from Terrible Minds was to write from the point of view of the antagonist and then from the protagonist.
This week, I talked about what it takes to write an antagonist.
And so it seems like a good time to connect a flash fiction challenge to it.
Here’s what you’re going to do.
You’re going to write a flash fiction story, maximum 1000-words. You will write half of it from the perspective of a protagonist. You will write half of it from the perspective of the antagonist.
You’ve got one week. Due by August 3rd, noon EST.
I did a story based on an earlier one, with a slightly different view. Not sure which one ended up being the good guy and which the bad guy.
She could hear them getting closer, calling to each other from the alleys and rooftops. She'd have to work faster to finish, this was their turf. She still had the bruises from their last encounter, but at least one of them had a bent nose now – she'd heard a crack as she kicked him off the bus roof. They'd moved here, to the poorest part of town, when she was 12, and she'd had to learn some tricks pretty fast – like when to swagger and when to fade, when to fight and when to run. She carried a small knife, but her agility was her biggest asset – she could out run and out climb the best of them. Running the roofs opened up a whole different world from the suburbs. She'd boosted a few things, food mainly, and only from the big stores, and had to climb a few times to escape a chubby security guard, huffing along behind her. Roofs were also a nice place to just relax, watch the stars, look at the faces and words scrawled on the walls. Safe too, except when the gangs were out for a run. This area was pretty lawless. Sure the police patrolled the nearby shops and banks but most avoided this area, figuring the various little gangs would work things out on their own.
By the sound of the shouts they were only a block away now, so she'd better finish up and move on. She smiled and waved up at the security camera. She knew the building owner, he was cool, didn't mind her work. Liked it in fact. Her big problem would be from bylaws. The city had hired more officers to patrol the patios along Queen and King, looking for smokers to bust. It was like a game now as smokers texting on ahead to warn their friends and bylaws tried to sneak up. Some would sneak up on their prey by way of the back alley, and when they came they across her, out came their little book, and then there was another infraction against her. And another battle with her mom. Next time it happened she'd track the jerk down and tag his car.
She stepped back – just a bit more midnight blue to bring out the wolf's features better.
“Nice work,” he said. “You're getting better at eyes.” She jumped, then turned and looked at her knapsack, sitting between them. She reached for the bag.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Your only route is up that wall, I've climbed harder ones before and still can. Maybe a hundred dollars worth of cans in there, shame to have to leave it. Let's talk for a bit.”
She'd seen this cop before, he seemed nicer than some of the others but you never could tell. She usually didn't stick around, disapperaring over a fence or up a drainpipe before they could even start to chase her. This one did look fitter than the others though. She watched as he pulled up her record on his hand-held's screen.
“Looks like you haven't always got away clean,” he said. “Since you moved here we've got some warning, some charges -shop-lifting, loitering, fighting, and of course, graffiti. And you're still only 15, quite a start of a career.”
“Not many choices in this shitty neighbourhood,” she said.
“You always have choices, Alexa.”
“OK, here's mine,” she said. “You bust me, call social services, we all go and see my mom, she cries, you give me a lecture, and we're done. Or – I head up that wall. I can always rack more cans.”
There was a bark overhead and a voice called down to them. “Hey, there's that little bitch, the one what broke my nose!” Heads started to appear along the rooftop. The voice called again. “Let her go, we'll teach her for you. Make her scared to show her face here.”
Scott looked back at Alexa. It would be a simple solution for him, and much faster. He still had three patios he need to check on. He stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder.
“Sorry guys, she's my bust. And this time I'll make sure we throw the book at her – I'm getting tired of seeing her face around here. Move on – I can hear the Tweets calling for you to come and play.”
He could hear the whistles in the distance – would be a battle somewhere tonight. The heads all disappeared from overhead and soon the sounds of barks could be heard as the gang headed further west.
He stepped back from Alex. “OK. They're gone for now, but they haven't forgotten I'm sure. That nose looked pretty bad."
She smiled. "It was a nice kick."
"So, would you like another choice?”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Just what did you have in mind?”
He pointed at the wall. “Some of this. In the daytime. With other writers. Sometime with free paint.”
She laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“I mean it, I'm starting up a program. Have some money lined up, and some people that actually want this kind of work, especially once they find out it stops tagging, and also brightens their place up. And some just like to help."
“What's it cost me?”
“I'll ask you to stop tagging. I've seen your stuff around the city from when you first moved here. Not a lot of recent work, more big pieces like this one. Time to make a choice and move on.”
“I'm not ratting my friends to you,” she said.
“That's OK. I probably know more of them than you all realize. All you need to do is show up, learn a bit, teach a bit. And maybe be in my videos – I like to tape my events and art for Youtube.”
“And the city let you do this?”
“They're OK,” he said. “Waiting to see if it works before they really support it. No problem."
He picked up the knapsack and handed it to her. “So, do we have a deal?”
She smiled as she took it from him.
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