one.

372 40 27
                                    

chapter one; sunsets and cigarettes
«ANYWHERE IS BETTER THAN HERE»

millie slumped on top of the fire escape, a lit cigarette in her right hand, dangling playfully between her finger tips. over the past few months, she found herself coming back here, the top floor of the apartment. she would go out on the fire escape, maybe smoke a cigarette or two and look out at the bustling city around her. yet it was a great place for peace and quiet. most of the time. she would often come up there alone, the only things accompanying her a sketch pad and pack of cigarettes.

she loved drawing, but didn't dare tell her foster family that. she would never hear the end of it. they'd call her soft. she hated that word, it made her blood boil. soft meant weak, and weak meant, well, fragile, delicate. and she was anything but delicate.

millie slowly brought the cigarette to her lips, closing her eyes as she took a long drag. behind her the radio hummed a soft tune. millie softly sang along to the music, a catchy pop song.

"mr. sandman, bring me a dream," she sang absentmindedly, just below a whisper, but even then it was still beautiful "make him the cutest that i've ever seen,"

that song, it made her wonder, would she ever find the guy of her dreams? would he be the cutest that she's ever seen? nah, she thought, shaking her head in disbelief and taking another inhale of her cigarette. true love is only in the movies, and even then it's all bullshit.

over the years her eyes had grown tired—dull. they had seen too many things that a sixteen year old should not see, but she managed to ignore her past. most of the time.
she blew a heavy cloud of smoke from her lips, ignoring the burning that arose in her throat. her feet dangled from the fire escape, overlooking new york city below her. everyone looked so small, like ants going from one place to another.

she brought her eyes up, just in time to see the sun setting over the skyscrapers. after a few minutes, the sky melted to a bright orange, the outskirts with hues of pink. the skyline, a deep seductive purple intertwined with the more subtle pastels, creating a beautiful dusk. she stared at it for a while, watching as the sky steadily became dark. for a moment, she pondered on it, wondering if anyone else saw what she did, and if so, did they find it as striking as she did in that moment?

the front door slamming open snapped her out of her thoughts. she flinched at the sound and a high pitch laugh filled the cramped apartment. her foster parents were home. even from where she was, she could already smell the strong scent of booze. millie immediately groaned. they were home. drunk. as usual.

"mmillie?" she heard her mother call out, her words were slurred and a giggle escaped her lips, "aare y-you hhhere?"

millie ignored her, the tips of her ears turning pink, the only sign of the anger she suppressed. she wanted to leave, and that's what she did, whenever they entered the house at least. this night was different. instead she leaned her head against the fire escape bar, the cool metal pressed against her cheek. she put out the cigarette and shut her eyes tight.
a million things went through her head but only one was the loudest; anywhere is better than here.

she wondered what it would be like if she could just float away, disappear into nothingness. would anyone miss her? it surely wouldn't be her foster parents, their substance-slewed minds would often forget about her. she was still thinking about this as her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing evened as she fell asleep against the night's warm breeze.
-
new story, please vote.

troublemakers » fillieWhere stories live. Discover now