The Misfortunes of Lolita

17 | when lolita loved

THIS IS AN UNEDITED AND SIGNIFICANTLY DIFFERENT VERSION OF THE MISFORTUNES OF LOLITA. I AM PUBLISHING IT IN FALL 2021—PLEASE FOLLOW ME ON IG @/ls.akhter and GOODREADS (L AKHTER) TO STAY UPDATED. I am so excited to share TMoL with you again.

"He was a whirlwind of emotions. The most beautiful thing to walk the earth. He was a universe all on his own, and I am so grateful to have fallen into his gravity." - Lolita's writing journal

As they walked, Frank swore that Lolita was made for him.

He didn't used to think this way - he never even considered the possibility of someone like her. He never believed in reasons for why people existed in the universe, but god, she was so beautiful. She was the sky before a thunderstorm, and he loved her. He would love her, until his breaths stopped. He would love her in death, he would love her forever, even when she didn't believe in forever. He loved her.

In the silence between their footsteps, he remembered her face when she'd seen him standing outside her door. She'd blinked, once, twice, as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

"I need your help," he'd said.

She'd opened her door further, nodding at him to come in.

"No," he'd said. "I... it's my dad."

"Okay," she'd said. "Just come in."

And so he had, and she'd made him sit down. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, framing her face, and the earthquake inside his chest nearly calmed down when she sat down beside him. She'd been in her pajamas, and she smelled like vanilla essence.

"What happened?" Lolita had asked, softly. It was funny that she knew him that well - it was funny that she knew exactly what he needed, that she knew exactly how he felt - that she knew what tone to use and when, and he liked that she spoke softly, as if she knew that he was standing on the edge of a chasm, as if she knew that he'd fall over any second with the softest whisper of her breaths.

Frank had the urge to pull her into his arms, because she still cared for him. He was a piece of shit. He was a worthless piece of shit - and she still cared for him.

"My dad's missing," he'd said.

Lolita took all of three seconds to process that, and he finally remembered that she was the sheriff's daughter. She was brave by nature.

She had pressed her lips together. "For how long?"

"Two weeks," he'd said. "He left two weeks ago. We lost contact with him a week ago."

"Okay," she'd said, nodding. "Okay. I'll go get ready."

"You'll..." he'd wavered. "Why?"

"We're going to the sheriff's office," she'd smiled. "We'll find your dad."

"Oof," Lolita made a sound now, as Frank bumped into her from the back, not paying attention to where he was walking, lost completely in his thoughts. He found himself doing that a lot nowadays - he found himself reliving the ephemeral moments of the past in his head more than he lived in the present. He found himself thinking of the better half of his life, he found himself thinking of Lolita, and even when she was right in front of him, he longed to hold her closer to his heart.

Her hair was loose, and long, and even in a ponytail it reached to her waist. She was a wondrous thing, this girl - and he wished she could love him, as much as he loved her.

He still remembered Cora's voice rough with frustration.

Sometimes love isn't enough, Frank.

"Sorry," he muttered.

She turned back to look at him, and then moved back. "It's fine."

"Fuck," he said, his feet frozen where he stood. "Fuck. I'm sorry."