the halls are quiet and appeared blurred through my tired eyes. all color is suffocated by the white walls, except the black outline of a girl who sits in the chair across from me.
it's bluntly obvious why she is here.
she has dark bruises on her arms, where heroin was injected. a pack of cigarettes fell out of her pocket while she went to leave the room.
i stopped her under the luminous white light and handed her the pack of marlboro 100's.
she saw me glance at her arms, and she turned the corner into the white, blinding hallway.
she slammed her back against the thin hospital walls and trembled to the ground.
holding her face with her hands, she began to make dismal sounds. she appeared to be scolding herself under her breath, her face red as the pack of cigarettes she holds in her left, quivering arm.
she takes out a cigarette, and places it between her lips, letting it bob up and down with her chapped lips as she said "ever heard of addiction?" she took out her lighter, and lit the smoke.
she walked outside and i followed her.
she sighs and looks away. i can't help but glance at her alluring, deep brown hair.
i can see clear as day that she's anguishing herself. i can see the melancholy in the way she lightly sways after each puff of heavy, gray smoke. the rain starts to come down and she gets in her car, and drives off. make-up running down her smooth cheeks.
"i need to find peace of mind," you yell out the window towards me.
YOU ARE READING
cigarette daydreams
Short Storywe're all addicted to something that takes the pain away. [inspired by Cage The Elephant]
