I kiss the sand in my hand. It slips through the cracks and hits the floor. What was it he said? That it would be ok, that I would be fine? It was far from fine. I see him in the hall and I nearly fall. Barely able to meet his eye's. It was never supposed to be this way, my first was supposed to be nice, a moment to cherish, not a moment of shame. The sand mounded around my feet, clinging to the bare skin. The waves crash onto my legs and I feel the wieght press down. I panic and rush back up the beach, what the hell is wrong with me?! The sand is still sticking like a shoe when I walk down the moonlite boardwalk. When I get close to home I see his snarling smirk again, I feel is creepy hands holding onto me. I shake it off and keep walking but his face haunts me the rest of the night. How could I have trusted him, after all she said, and all the warnings that he was bad.
YOU ARE READING
Happy and Derranged
RandomI'm going to be writing a series of stories, hopefully all pretty short. They will show my frustration with life and the people around me. They'll also show what interests me.
