THE QUIET.

|forty five

dried tears covered my face.

my body was freezing,

my skin was pale.

an empty alcohol bottle was smashed right beside my hand.

coldness was filling the air,

streetlights dimly lit the dark sky.

i let out a breath,

making the smoke rush into the cold wind.

it was late.

probably past the time of my curfew,

but i didn't care.

this was the quiet side of town.

there were no police patrolling over here.

i wasn't worried anyway.

my parents could pay the underage drinking and past curfew fines and bribe the news from getting out like they always did.

i let the cigarette fall to the ground.

the small orange glow barely even showing in the alleyway shadows.

i screamed,

punching the brick wall,

not caring if i broke my knuckles or not.

i just kept punching,

and punching that stupid wall until it hurt to even move my fingers.

it was dark,

but the streetlights made it a little visible.

blood was covering that small part of the bricks-

and still,

the emotional pain was so much worse than the physical.