The Pain of We (ON HOLD)

7

I stopped by the thrift store after school. I bought a new jacket and a pair of boots. I also got a dress, something I wasted the little money I had on. But I couldn't help myself. It was so pretty...

I long to be someone in the middle class, but instead I'm stuck here.

While the lady rung up my items, she didn't judge or stare. She was used to people like me, dirt poor and can only afford the second hand of the second hand. Others see garage sale items here, but I see new clothes, even if it's just new to me.

...
I sat in my room that night, my new dress begging for me to get up and put it on. It hung in my closet, almost calling to me.

Shush, I told it, holding back the want to put it on, my father will wake if I stand. I must be silent, like a mouse, but quieter.

The dress almost hummed back to me, calling to me.

I ignored it, something I'm very good at.

...
The power went out at one in the morning. I sat in total darkness, without the comfort of the red letters on my alarm clock to light the room. Just the darkness.

I forced myself to stand up, walking to the window and pulling back the curtains. The moon was hanging in the sky, crooked. I smiled at it, going back to my position on my bed, letting the moonlight shine through.

The power came back on a while later, the clock flashing 12:00, waiting to be reset.

I set it to twelve oh one, just so it won't blink anymore.

I didn't sleep.

...
"I didn't mean to get you in trouble," You said the next day at school.

I shrugged. "It's okay. You just have horrible timing."

You smiled. "I'll make sure to wait until you call next time, 'kay?"

"Okay." I walked away, keeping a smaller form of the smile on my lips.

...
Before my father got home, I slid on the dress and stood in front of my mirror. Between the cracks in the glass, I looked like a different person. The dress was simple, a mint color that had a bow to tie in the front. It was a little big in some spots, and a little tight in others, but it didn't matter.

This was mine.

...
Day four.

Still haven't slept.

The clock brings me company. The curtains have yet to be pulled shut.

...
Day five.

"Are you okay?" You asked, looking into my eyes.

"Fine. Why?"

"You look really tired."

I shrugged. "I haven't slept for five days." I closed my eyes, leaning back against the cold bus leather.

You started to hum. "I close my eyes, haven't slept for five days, we'll sleep when we're dead again..."

"Hm?"

You smiled sheepish. "It's a song by Dark Mean. It's really dark, but I love the sound. Here," You pulled out your phone and earbuds, searching the song on the web. You pulled up a video and we sat there, listening to it together.

I've read a book like this once.

Too bad you're not half Korean.

...
I resumed the position I've sat in for the past five days and my head felt heavy. I leaned back, my hair coming to rest on my pillow. My eyes pulled shut and I fell asleep.