An AngelI watched him as he slept. He didn't know that; he also didn't know that he smiled when he slept.
I dreamt of that smile. Perhaps he was dreaming of things that went beyond these walls, this hellish bit of existence.
Looking at him sleeping, you wouldn't guess what he was like awake. You saw innocence and beauty, he was cruelty and rigor, on the outside.
On the inside, he dreamed like the rest of us. But you couldn't tell, only if you saw him sleep.
If you saw him the way I did, you would think as I did. That there had to be some good residing in that angelic face.
And like me, you would be wrong.
Lucifer had a pretty face too.
A Portrait of a FriendA fifth of the troupe. He was the entertainer. The constant source of laughter. He realized he first realized he was funny at the sixth grade talent show. It was required to attend every year, and every year, they fall asleep in back of the auditorium. But Dillon tried out that year, so they tried to keep themselves awake through the other performances so that they wouldnt miss his.
Finally, little Dillon stepped out unto the stage. The short kid could be mistaken for a 3rd grader any day. The spotlight had trouble finding him, but when it did, he lit up. He was dressed in what he had worn earlier that day, and all was still and quiet. He paced the stage for a while looking as if he was still pondering what to do to entertain them.
He sat on the edge of the stage and sighed in frustration, with his chin in his hand. After a few minutes, he switched arms. Then finally, he looked out to the audience and said, I guess this is what happens when you dont do your
Heartless"Think me heartless, for itll do you good. That way we can skip the formalities and focus on the fact that Im the one you love to hate. There has to be one in every story and Im it."
On Thursdays, after school, I helped Caleb at his office, conveniently located on Main Street. I answered phones, scheduled appointments, and fetched him snacks from the Cannelli deli a block down. I was the perfect assistant during office hours, but once he switched the front lights off, it was a completely different story.
In the dark, I slipped, tripped, everything but dipped onto the floor, so he would have to stay longer and take care of me. He was that kind of guy, like Matthew and Tyler, wanting to help everyone. I took advantage of that and thanked him with caresses to his dark auburn five oclock shadow. He never saw it as flirting because he thought of everyone innocent until proven guilty, the way everyone should but doesnt.
I was mindful when around him, for
This Was LoveI walked by you as usual, and we exchanged greetings, as usual, but as you looked into my eyes, the world slowed. I know it seems cliche, but it happened, and as you looked me up and down, I bit back a smile.
After the moment passed, my mind, once blank, filled with thoughts. Why did you looked at me that way? Had you heard the rumours? Had you believed them? Panic! was replaced with glee. Suddenly I was overly happy.
Your sly smile invaded my consciousness, and I was captived by your spell.
I knew nothing about you. I knew only about how made me feel, like the person I was, was okay for right now. Change could come later.
I imagined your kisses and how your cheeks would feel against mine as we danced to old records we found at consignment shops. I saw in my mind the blueness of your eyes, filled with lust or love, either would be okay with me. I felt the closeness of you and your arms wrapped around me with the feeling of possession.
I anxiously wanted to be in your favour, to be all
A Time for WeaknessNate walked me home that night, but when I walked in the house, it felt weird. Everything was in its rightful place but the aura of the house had changed. My father was home. He and a woman sat at the dining room table. She looked mildly familiar. Her hair was blond, curling naturally, wildly, flowing down to her shoulders. Her eyes were a blue, almost of a green sort. Her face showed no trace of makeup; instead light freckles gracefully covered her cheeks.
She was me.
No, it was worse. She was the one who left me, who made all of this happen. It was her fault, not mine. I didnt talk to her when my father had me sit down and join them in a dinner that consisted of what leftovers that happened to be in the fridge. When she asked about school, I kept my answers to one or two words. She kept asking me questions, like she belonged here, like she had the right to, like she had been in my life all these years, like she hadnt left.
She passed out on the living room couch from too
The BeginningThe old year behind us, the new year in front, we sang incoherently at the television set, watching Times Square in awe. We would soon awake from this drug of a time, passed out and passed on in our necropolis of false impressions. The new year brought nothing, we all knew that, but it was the excitement, the excitement made us stay. I would always wonder as we walked through the hollow streets of our broken old town, what made us stay here?
Perhaps it was the knowledge that we acquired here.
Shannon said it best, he said, There are only two reasons why anyone stays in a town with a population less than 500 people. 1) They cant get out, because they have obligations keeping them there, or like us, every time they tried, God would throw them another obstacle keeping them there. He said that these obstacles were things that we could overcome if we really wanted to, but deep in our souls, we knew we didnt. He thought that everyone had control over their own destini
An Almost MistakeI sit down on the couch, staring at the wall like there was something still there. I sold the TV last week, to buy groceries that didnt even last the weekend. I go over to Parkers house, across the street. She answers the door in her pajamas even though it was almost 5 oclock.
Come on in She walks into the kitchen and I close the door. Are you hungry? She calls out. My stomach answers. Growling like a lion. Loud. I follow her.
So how was court today? She opens the cabinet and pulls out two blue rimmed plates. She sets them down on the table and I say, Fine.
Another funeral? She yanks the refrigerator open and starts handing condiments and tofu to me. I carry them to the table and say, yeah.
Get the bread, will you? I grab the bread box off the top of the refrigerator. So whose was it? I sit back down next to her and start working on my sandwich. Lady OHara, I reply.
Mayonnaise, I spread it w
High SchoolI was once a girl who believed that everything is possible within the realm of possibility. Now I've stopped. High school did that.
High school was where everything and everyone was gathered; it was also the villian. It took, or rather I let it take every ounce of me. It happened to all of us, within these walls, we lost our individuality, deserted our ambitions and forsook our belief systems. All for a few moments of self aggrandizing glory and the legacy of our names, coupled with what we did or didn't do.
We were numbers and letters and GPAs and standardized test scores, we were people. We were villainous, tireless twerps that never made an effort toward bettering ourselves. We deserved what we got; lockers that stick, stained linoleum floors, weak tables, and gum riddled chairs.
We hid openly, appearing as vicious, vicarious, pious individuals, crowded together as one. We knew exactly what we were doing. We were programmed to be this way at this time in our lives.
As adult, we outg
UncharacteristicI watched you from a distance with a lit cigarette in my mouth, an inquisitive look on my face, and a Nikon in my hand. I had ventured away from my mundane schedule to be here in your presence, even though you did not know.
I wasn't a stalker. I wasn't doing this for joy or pleasure; I was doing this for money, like the whore I was. I wasn't getting off watching you in your bedroom, behind closed doors. I already knew you, and there was no point.
I placed all of my photographs of you in a green tackle box on the marina dock for him, my employer. No, I didn't know who he was. It wasn't like I asked; I never do. It was his business what he wanted with you; I was through.
Two days later, I saw you again, except this time you had a bloke with you, bulky, bald, and about 6'1'' and I was off running errands. I was walking in the opposite direction of you, so close that if I reached out my left arm, I could have carressed your right cheek and wiped away the tear that had found res