Roxanne
Running away from home might have been the stupidest idea I've thought of yet. The first few hours of abandoning my past life had been both thrilling and exciting, yet now I am cold and scared. Crowds of people surrounded me, bundled in scarves and heavy coats, while I stood in just a hoodie and low-rise jeans. A quick gush of wind flew by my thin body, a painful shiver rippling underneath my skin. Oh, I was miserable now! Spring break was supposed to be a relaxing few weeks of doing things you loved, like drawing and taking endless strolls around the park. Unfortunately, the weather this Spring was anything but delightful.
If only Valen was here…
I know it's only been a week since I've moved back to Michigan, but seeing her again has made it feel like forever. Valen has always been cool, and now she's ten times cooler. Her hair is now a warm, gritty blonde, a contrast to her golden mop of hair in seventh grade. Her gaze was sharp; calculating, and effortlessly attractive. Oh god, help me now. I'm in love with Valen Morgan, aren't I?
Well, who wouldn't? She's gorgeous. And her attitude is so confident and alluring—she's too dreamy to keep my eyes off of her. And when she shoved me to the floor, I wasn't even angry. The way her muscular arms moved caught my eye before her hand had caught my shoulders. The way she looked down into my eyes—that look of slight pity—before I fainted was too hot for me to handle. Everything about her was what I wanted in a man; except, she wasn't a man. My family would kill me if they found out that their second daughter admired a girl this badly. My older sister had taken that spot already.
But wait… I'm not living under my parent's roof anymore, so I don't have to abide by their rules. I could love whoever I wanted, and do practically whatever I imagined. The only thing stopping me was the fact that I had no money whatsoever. Sure, I could beg, but who would possibly give me money? I'm not strong, I'm not smart… Heck, I didn't even have charms! If only Valen was here, she had charms. She could probably convince even the coldest man alive to hand her a wad of cash, that's not even an overstatement. Me though? I believed that I was a friendly person, but I knew for a fact that nobody took me seriously. I can't even take myself seriously.
But Valen's cool. Valen's confident in herself. Valen knows how to say what she means to their face. Valen was everything I wanted to be, and everything I wanted to love. I loved her eyes, I loved her little smirk when I made a joke. I loved her.
The sad thing was, that love would never be expressed. I was alone now, lost in the city. Nowhere to hide, nobody to love. Nobody was here to curl up against their chest and express your passion using your very own words. Now the more I thought about it, I realized that perhaps, just maybe, running away had been a mistake.
My parents weren't that bad, they just wanted what's best for me, right? Everything had been my fault from the beginning. Was that why I stood taller than my father and my grandpapa, why my body would never gain any fat or muscle despite eating everything I possibly could? Did God hate me so much that he made me the absolute monster that I was? Oh lord, help me please. I never meant to sin this much, I really never meant any of it. I can't help being attracted to her…
My skin prickled into little bumpy patches, reminding me of how frigid it was. I had to find shelter as soon as I possibly could, or else mother nature would take me away herself. I'm not sure how I ended up in this situation to begin with. It was only around ten hours ago when I was with Cara, Mira, and Candi, shopping for clothes and eating sour gummy worms at the movies.
But then, all of a sudden, the world decided to do a complete 180 and ruin the experience for all of us. While we were crying our eyes out at the end of the rom-com we were viewing in the theater, Candi suddenly had to use the bathroom. Only a couple minutes later, Cara had to go, too. Me and Mira didn't suspect anything, it was probably because of all the cherry coke we devoured during the movie.
However, as we were about to get up to leave, we both noticed that Candi and Cara weren't anywhere to be seen. I of course stood up, racing off to the bathroom to check if they were okay, but Mira stayed put. Perhaps I was being dramatic for no reason, and she was behaving accordingly. But I worried about everything. That's just who I was.
When I stepped into the theater bathroom, I didn't see the two girls anywhere. All I could see was an empty bathroom with nobody occupying the stalls. Well, that was until I could vaguely smell the horrid aroma of iron and waste. My heart froze.
"Cara…? Are you there…?" I called out, breaths shaky.
Frantically, I ran towards the origin of the smell, pushing open the fragile stall door with all of my might. The door broke open, the hinges turning effortlessly, allowing movement to occur quite easily. It was quite odd, to say the least. It was almost as if the stall wasn't locked at all…
"Oh God, it reeks of death in here," I clenched my jaw in utter disgust.
Cara's tanned body looked quite pale, sprawled out on that tiled bathroom floor. Her hair hung slightly on the toilet bowl, but she did not appear to be using the toilet in the slightest. Well, at least for its intended purpose. A small pocket knife laid flat inside her wrinkled palm, the sharp edge covered in thick, crimson blood. At first glance, any normal person would assume that she had killed herself, but that didn't make sense at all. Why on earth would a person commit suicide in a public restroom, of all places? And if she was truly going to do it, why did Candi suddenly have to use the bathroom as well? Something didn't add up.
Turning my head, my wide eyes laid upon the horrid state that Candi was in as well. Her already large eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets, bloodshot and stretched to their limits. I skimmed across her face, waiting for any expression, any possible sign of life. But to my dismay, I found none.
They were all gone…weren't they? All cut up and beaten and left to die in a place that was anything but dignified. The worst part, I had to figure, was that there wasn't a single thing I could've done to save them. I had no idea who was behind it all, or how they could've been murdered so quickly, if it was even murder at all. Everything around me was a blur; a distant reality that I couldn't imagine perceiving as true. It was far easier to remain in denial —to hug myself tightly and tell myself that everything was going to be fine— when clearly nothing about this was fine in the slightest.
Snapping back to the harsh cold winds of reality, I stood meekly in front of a small gift shop. It was built entirely of brick and stone, reminiscent of a time decades ago. A majority of the infrastructure around this city was significantly more modern; cement, wood panelling, perhaps a few bricks here and there, and definitely a ton of siding. It was quite fascinating how unique this building truly was, compared to the rest of the shops down the street and around the corner. Its presence seemed like an echo to me, a nonexistent pull towards the main door. That urge overtook me, and before I knew it, I was making my way up the steps and past the slightly cracked ivy door.
A heavy stream of heat surrounded my body as I shut the door behind me. It was surprising, sure, but I was more relieved than anything to finally escape the unwelcoming freeze outside. The interior of the store was nothing I had ever seen before; it was gorgeous. Leather-bound books lined the shelves in a lenient order, with soft lights strung around the perimeter of the room, basking the otherwise dark area in a pleasant glow. However, the one thing that caught my eye was the wooden table in the middle of the shop. A thick stack of blank envelopes and a thin letter paper were intricately placed at the far left corner, a black ballpoint pen resting calmly on top. It was almost like they were just there, waiting for someone to finally use them for their intended purpose.
My feet neared the table, stopping so my feet were directly parallel to the ballpoint pen. It looked so lonely… just sitting there without a worry in the world… no task to complete… I could almost relate in a way. All my life, I've never had a purpose. My parents have always spoiled me rotten until I was around 12 years of age, when all the attention shifted towards my younger sister, Dolly. Me and Dolly were relatively close in age, with her being only a year or so younger than me. I loved her to death—of course—but I always knew that out of me and my siblings, she'd always be the one who got all of my parent's adoration. Perhaps it's because she's considered 'normal' out of the three of us, as Finn is queer and I'm just as confusing as her. Dolly has been boy crazy ever since I could remember; from love letters to ice cream dates at Curley Cone. I couldn't think of a single boy on the top of my head who hasn't gone out with Dolly Rosalie Scarlet. She's just got something about her that draws them in…
Oh, I wish I could be like her. I wish I could glance at a boy and just be like, "Oh wow, he's just lovely, isn't he?", but I just cannot bring myself to that state. Don't get me wrong, I love boys, they are wonderful people, to say the least. I love my father, my uncle, my cousins I see at the beach… but whenever I see a nice boy at school, my heart never races a beat. My face never heats up and shines as red as a cherry in the summertime. My limbs don't go numb, and I certainly don't get butterflies in my stomach. Some days my mind is conflicted, why don't I feel these things? Why can't I be a normal teenager and have silly teenage romances in the hallways? The only true person I want to ever hold their right hand with would be… her.
Say it ain't so! Every time I think of her, picture her beautiful face, her rosy cheeks and troubled teeth… that is when I feel these ridiculous teenage feelings. Her in that white tank top, her low-rise jeans—I loved everything about her.
At that moment I realized something important. I might have been lost in the city, sure, but I had a paper and a pen, and perhaps that was all I needed. Lifting up the black pen with precise and careful strokes, I began my symphony of words, my colorful dance of letters. I no longer cared where I was; all I cared about now was what was on the paper in front of me.
Love will save me, I know it will… it has to!