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pink heels

By , East Greenbush, NY

A girl of about fifteen stumbles in her older sister’s six inch high pale pink heels on her on her way into the sea of uncertainty that is the after party. She pulls down the bottom of her shorter than short black velvet dress because she feels a hundred pairs of hungry eyes glare unto her young thighs. The music isn’t particularly tasteful and neither is the mixture of god knows what burning down her throat and stomach. She doesn’t like it, but they do and she follows suit. Over time, the dam of sobriety gives in; all the memories of the past month flood in, soaking the walls of her conscious mind. All the fighting, betrayal, loss, everything. The alcohol is certainly doing its job. She kicks off the pink shoes as her feet are most certainly not doing theirs. All she wants to do now is sleep. She is on her hands and knees, clawing her way up the stairs, she’s gone numb and just wants to lay down forever. At the bottom, she sees no reason to keep trying to stand up, at the bottom, she wants to die. At the top, she met him. He offers her a gallant hand, helping her to her feet. He talks with her, she bares her soul to him. He’s nineteen, he plays guitar, he’s going to college next month and  over time, he will consume her. Mind and body. Until there’s nothing left. She isn’t aware how precarious this page of her life is that she’s just turned over. She is blinded by the smokescreen he’s surrounded her with. She thinks she’s different. He chose her. Out of all other girls! He could have anyone he wanted, he was perfect after all! But he wanted her. And that was all that mattered. He taught her things about herself she wouldn’t have guessed in a thousand years. She used to love school, she had a passion for science. But after him, her favorite place in the universe, protons, planets and all was the backseat of his red Pontiac GTO. Her favorite food was always macaroni and cheese. It reminded her of when she was a little kid. However, after he walked into her life, diet pills of all kinds were the preferred thing to ingest. After all, she needed to look her best all the time. For him. Fast forward. A girl nearing her seventeenth birthday knows she’s marked for death. After all, she’s been feeling very sick for about a year now, it’s a variety of causes and symptoms. But had it not been for him, she wouldn’t be here. He forgot about her ages ago; but now that she’s packing for yet another hospital visit and comes across the pink shoes that now fit perfectly, she says aloud, “But now i’ll never forget him.”




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