Brea
Gone.
He was gone.
I looked down at Lukes grave.
He had suffered a car accident.
The only human, the only drug, Luke himself, he kept me alive.
I cried as I looked down at him.
It hadnt been long, but It had been enough to be a memory for me.
"Thankyou." I spoke down at him.
"Thankyou for telling me I always looked beautiful" I told him, even though he didnt hear me I knew he was up there, telling me how I looked beautiful today.
I didnt need makeup.
I didnt need Luke, he was gone and marked me.
I needed myself.
YOU ARE READING
Deleterious Makeup /A short story/ (l.h)
Roman pour Adolescents"My face, its what I paint everyday just for him to notice me. A simple white canvas is horrible, might as well paint over it… with makeup" A Short story on how a girl named Brea cakes her face with makeup just for a guy named Luke Hemmings to notic...
