To be? >Cat Toe<

To be? >Cat Toe< Jan 27, 2014 22:51:41 GMT -5

Post by [nyte] on Jan 27, 2014 22:51:41 GMT -5

My feet delicately trace the snow piled beneath me. Cantering across the freshly fallen powder, an alabaster arm is looped through the coarse strap holding the books required for school. Not that I could read any of them. Not that i have ever tried. Was there I point, I often told myself, to attempt to read while the words float and churn among the smooth, text filled pages. By the time i reached the large arches that adorned the entrance to the school, I was already 20 minutes past on time.

What point was there, I muse, to enter a class in which I could learn nothing from? The thin material of my sweater catches as I slide down the bricks, pasted together by a gray plaster, that make up the ominous entrance. The snow sends a shiver up my spine, the cold seeping through the heavy pair of sweats that clung loosely to my waist that day. The bag falls upon my lap, fingers carefully-perfectly- manicured, dig through it's contents. Unopened books, an unhealthy amount of small tubes filled with a thick colored substance almost always present on my lips, nothing that I particularly cared about that morning.

I'm not a good girl, nor have I ever been. Not since I ran away, that is. Perhaps it was Blake's influence. His alcoholism and utter apathy for anything but parties and his own intents. Living with that for (was is a year now), a long time, it had affected me. More than I would like to admit.

Finally I have struck gold, a small cylinder buried deep within my bag. Positioning it between my two fingers, I use the other hand to dig into my pocket, for the small lighter what was almost always there. My lips wrap around the filtered end of the cylinder as I bring the lighter to the adjacent end. The hungry flame dances across it, hungrily lapping at the cigarette until smoke has finally begun to rise. A small click dissapates in the winter air as the flame is extinguished. The lighter is shoved back into the navy colored sweats. I take a soft breath, welcoming the warm some into my lungs. I feel it swirling within me, like an ember deep within.

After holding it for as long as I could, my lungs give way. The white flurry escapes my lips, blown away by a winter breeze. I gently pull the pitch colored beanie further over the blond strands that fall from my scalp. Wash, rinse, repeat. The cigarette slowly calms my nerves as my mind wanders about the winter breeze. I tap the butt against dark mahogany bricks, the cinders, gray as storm clouds, dissolve into the white snow. I am waiting, for what I am unsure. But deep within me, like a snow storm brewing just over the horizon, out of sight but leaving a sense of urgency, I knew something was bound to happen.

And so I wait.

Diamond
District 4 . Diamond . Eighteen

I would rather forget my past
there are things there that I want to forget
it's not always pretty, and it's not always easy
but I think I can make it through this if someone is with me