Author: Bright Green PM
Short stories from 2005.Rated: Fiction M - English - Horror/Romance - Chapters: 10 - Words: 5,649 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 1 - Updated: 06-22-05 - Published: 04-20-05 - Status: Complete - id: 1891658
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Movement I: My Best Friends
Anger and hatred bubbled up my throat and I gagged, grabbing my elbows.
how could they fucking do this
Visions of narcotics and sharp objects danced through my head; Valiums as blue as their eyes, knives pale and shining like their hair.
fuck you fuck you fuck youI stared at myself in front of the cracked mirror. I slouched, my nipples were free and erect under a thin white T-shirt. My tears had smeared my face with rainbows of runny makeup. A small smile began to form on my swollen lips and I began to giggle.
I couldn't have myself laughing like that, someone might hear. I picked up the black metal stapler and pursed my lips in a burlesque of a kiss, sliding the stapler over them. I pushed it shut.
A sharp sting shot through my nerve endings. I began to open my mouth to scream, but closed it abruptly when I felt the staple pull at my lips.
I felt the laughter bubble up my throat as I slid the stapler's twin bars over my lips again.
Valium pills rained into my hands, spilling out of the bottle. I strung a long piece of lace through the heart-shaped holes in the middle of the pills, making a necklace like they'd taught us in Girl Scouts. I was a good Girl Scout. I still am a good Girl Scout.
i've got a present for the best fucking friends i've ever had
My purse was decorated with the first letter of my first name and I filled it with love. The twin blades of my fabric scissors poked out of one end. Knife handles created bulges and pencils rolled, scattered, on the bottom. I tossed in a lighter, a toe nail clipper, a plastic martini stir stick. The weight of a hammer stretched the cloth. Forks and knives, forks and knives. I tossed in my blue Venus razor, not bothering to pop off the head. Safety pins and staples clinked to the bottom. A cold black pistol.
I pulled in heavy, uneven breaths through my nose as I opened a vial of glitter, pouring the shimmering mess over the contents of my purse. My swelling lips stung and again I felt laughter bubble up like vomit. I pulled my lips slightly apart and tears welled up in my eyes, a scream in my throat. I swallowed both the scream and the laughter as I laced the boots of a dead soldier onto my own feet. I did nothing to cover up the sores and welts and scars that graced my arms; on the contrary, I outlined them with a tube of my red lipstick.
my friends my friends my very best friends
I cut up the pretty one and I shot the smart one through the head. I burned the nice one until his eyes burst and I smashed in the skull of the funny one. I stuck pins and staples into their skin and pencils through their eyes.
The gang's all here.I smiled widely, the staples ripping through my skin.
Oh, I love you guys.