Hangman: And Other Short Stories

Under A Street Light

She's staring at you. Her hair is so blond that it's mixing with the light from the street lamp and its dazzling, you have to look away. She runs barreling towards you, wrapping her skinny arms around your neck. You can smell the beer and cigarette smoke on her, and you turn your head away when you sees some questionable milky white substance half dried on the corner of her lips. She mutters something incorrectly and tries to kiss you, missing by miles and having her lips clamp down on your shoulder. You grunt as you tries to hold her up, feeling her fluttering heartbeat on your chest through her sweater. But she giggles and knots her fingers in your hair, pulling her mouth close to your ear. Suddenly, its your heartbeating so fiercely, matching her's through the skin and fabric of your tee shirt. What she's whispering is making you blush, and you gently push away; her hands groping your collar. She wants you to put your arms around her waist, to touch her, but you shake your head softly. She frowns at you, and leans on your shoulder, her head fitting perfectly into the curve of your neck. You stumble back a bit as she collapses on you, gagging a bit as her body turns limp with her hands still clasped around your neck. You sigh and pick her up, the tips of your ears turning as bright red as the faded ribbon tied into her hair when your fingers touch the hard curves and soft edges of her body. Her hands tighten in her sleep and she murmurs something about someone. And only then do you realize how terrible she looks; The veins in the pale arms blue and standing out, the marks on the insides of her elbows from the drugs she's done. The dark bags underneath eyes, the long thin cuts on her wrists she keeps so carefully hidden. Her imperfections armor was slowly fading away. The make up and the sleeves on her sweater slipping down as she struggles to hold onto you, revealing her dark promises. Her bones are digging into you, the ribs so sadly visible as she takes her shirt off for anyone willing to look. It's pathetic really, and you cringe when you think of the places she's been touched by the faceless people, the stuff on her mouth. What you do next is shocking, and your disgusted that you do it. You reach down and kiss her softly on the neck, right where her jaw meets underneath her earlobe and you wipe off the lipstick kiss from earlier in the same place. You cringe and look away because you know that she is beyond helping... And there's nothing you can do to save her.