Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Reality in a Red Mohawk

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
Every girl’s dream is to strut down a road or hallway and have eyes of strangers turn and stare in wonder at her beauty. It makes her feel confident and beautiful. And very unique. I admit, I’m one of those girls. But today changed everything.

My little sister had her last soccer game today. It was at the park a couple blocks away from my house. I wasn’t feeling so good, so I took a hot bath and decided I would come a little late to her game. I figured walking would be good exercise. So putting on the most colorful outfit I could scrape together, I headed out with The Shack in hand. The cool breeze enveloped me and soothed out all the nastiness of the cold I’ve been having. I felt so alive, and I imagined myself floating down the road with my fresh curls laughing in the wind. But that image was ripped away from my mind as I encountered reality. And reality had a bright red Mohawk.

He was older, mid-twenties probably. His skin had a hue of amber dirt. His shirt looked like something that popped straight out of Hot Topic, except without the skin-tight quality. He had a beer belly that made him look all the more dangerous. He was sagging and had chains of ‘pimp’ rubber-banding to the ground. Tattoos? You bet. Piercings? All over. This was your typical Up-to-absolutely-no-good type of guy.

I was just rounding on the house that he had pulled up to his black car. Two men came to greet them. One was holding the baby. The other just looked irritated. The man with the bright red Mohawk was leaning against the door of his car and they were talking about something that shouldn’t have been talked around near an innocent baby. I heard Mohawk run some colorful language into the conversation. Then I came into view.

“Sh-**.” The guy whispered. And then they stared. I could feel them boring into every curve of my body as they grew silent. I heard the hungry growl of a twisted mind and my stomach fell. Left, Right, Left, Right. Ignore them; you don’t know they are there. Left, Right. The sidewalk seemed to stretch forever into the depths of a haunted house. A haunted house with no way out. Every time they swept their eyes along my body I felt less and less confident. Left, Right. Finally, I reached the end of the block. They were still silent. They were still staring. HE was still hungry. “Who the h*** IS that?!” The explains with a little too much emotion for my liking. Left, Right, Left, Right. I didn’t feel bashful that I was snagging their eyes. I didn’t feel special. I didn’t feel appreciated. I didn’t feel beautiful. I felt invaded. And scared. ‘Sometimes reality is a dream’, I repeat over and over until it clings to my lips like ghost words. I look back against my will, and reality was looking very menacing.



Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback