autumnmagnolia
"GO MAKE ME THAT FUCKING MONEY WHORE!" was the instructions he spat at her. Crying, tears staining down her dirty face, she got into the car with the random sleazy John of the hour. She hated this. She got in and rode with him to her usual dirty, pay-by-the-hour, sleaze motel. They went to room 4-B and went to work. She told him her usual rate. She's just doing what she's told. She's tired. She's so fucking tired. But she's just doing what she's told.
In March on 2009, a special eight-year-old learned to fly. Earning her wings, soaring so high. Going up to her Father in heaven.
She was my muse, sitting there listening to Muse. Long, black hair. Moving like a rushing river. What's so wrong with love? She believed in me, because she knew she was my muse.
Remember when we first met?
Remember our first date?
Remember our first kiss?
Remember when you asked me to prom?
Remember when I said yes?
Remember the time I fell down the stairs at your grandparents house?
Remember when I first got sick?
Remember my first Chemo treatment?
Remember when I went into the hospital?
Remember when I never came out?
Remember my funeral?
Remember me?
He threw the keychain at her. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" She cried as she left. She was never coming back. The rain refreshed her and as she got into the car she looked at the house and smiled.
Oh that darkroom. It was his sanctum. It was the only place he felt... real. Important. Not alone. He was all alone in the world. Just him and his camera.
Leaning on his shoulder in the movie theater is something she wanted to do. Nervousness filled her. "You can't do that! What if he doesn't like you like that anyway?" With shaking hands, she dared. With her head on him, she breathed a sigh of relief. Her heart went pitter-patter when he laid his head on hers. A smile danced on her lips. This is where she'd always wanted to be.
She moved with the fluid movements that came naturally to her. She looked sidetracked around mid-song. If you followed her eyes, you'd see a boy with white Nikes and black-brown curly hair.
The possibility was slim to none. She was just a small town girl, and a nobody at that. She would never leave that town. Doomed to eternal loneliness. She needed an escape. Then one came. Her new escape. An escape with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes