1. Can You Smell My Morning Death?(Then)
I woke up to the sun, eyes crusted, mouth dry and body feeling heavy as if it had been falling and has finally just collapsed.
It was quiet, cave echoingly so, but then again, my house, tall, hulking even, always was and even after...it was even more silent.
“Let me in god dammit!” Matt mumbled feverishly, his hands digging into my faded window frame, his long legs quivering on the rose inter twined fence that snakes up to the roof- luckily around my only window as well. Matt's hands, large and rough- scar etched and nicely calloused -shake, almost as bad as my hands that are folded from his view. I wouldn't want him to see how much my parents not being here actually does bother someone as 'collected' as me. I hold a finger to my over glossed lips well my other arm remains behind my back. I listen more.
Nothing.
I smile, a small sad, pitiful even, one. Then it slips because of how much they don't care is always so obvious and evident in just the way I am.
My coldness, voice like venom.
My closed mouth smiles, pulled so tightly taunt they can't slip.
My hands, always strangling each other.
“Okay, come in” I breath, trying to keep my voice uncaring, numb.
“Finally!” He replies, his strange deep hum of a voice; calming.
No one likes my parents, not even me. That doesn't mean I don't want they're attention because I do. If I didn't I wouldn't be like I am.
Swinging into the window, he lands with a hard thump, his heavy black boots smacking on my polished wooden floor. I look at him then, his light dazzling green eyes, small, striaght nose and full, light lips that give me no desire even though they should- even though I want them to.
He stumbles onto my too large richly draped bed and opens his thighs, his feet resting on the ugly expensive carpet around it. A small laugh escapes me as I jump onto him, knocking his breath out for a second in the process.
“It's done” I whisper, even if there's no need, titling my head back and resting it on his side shoulders, my lips brushing his ear.
“Show me.” Matt whispers back, his eyes catching mine, his gaze unnervingly knowing.
If only...
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ParanormalBeing murdered was never one of the what if's that Cory pondered over because, well, Cory wasn't very thoughtful. She cared about nothing, just like her parents and when she dies...she realises how completely native she was as to think that was how...
