Maple

4

"I used to be pretty like you." A frail woman with sores all along her skin and strands of blonde hair falling onto her slumped shoulders looked down at me. I returned the look, feeling pity--I'm not sure for who though; me or her.

We were at the same bus stop. I hadn't moved yet, I didn't need to. The rain had stopped soon after the woman with the umbrella left.

"I was pretty like you once, even if you do look disheveled and wet." She pointed her cigarette at me, "Hah, disheveled. Big word. Nobody thinks I know big words. You can't say anything though. I used to be pretty, with hair as red and blonde as you. So pretty..." She stared off into that unwavering stormy sky and took a drag from her cigarette. Her glassy blue eyes were so sad.

I could see it though. I could almost imagine how she used to be and wondered what happened. What happens to all the people who can't push past that loneliness? Was I heading in that direction? I wanted nothing more than for her to be that beautiful girl again with red and blonde hair, mostly because I was afraid I was looking at my future self.

Out of the blue, her face hardened and her words came faster. "Kenny says I'll just get worse and worse. He's right, he's so right. I mean, I don't care. Fuck Kenny. Fuck him, I hate that man." She stared off into space. "It's his fault anyway. It's not my fault. He

knew I used to be beautiful. God damn fucker." She looked at me with such angry eyes, as if it were my fault. "Why am I even talking to you? You don't know anything. You can't even talk. You're just pretty. Stupid, pretty thing."

I wondered how many cigarettes she smoked today. I wondered what else she'd done. Her voice was so raspy, it was almost gone. Suddenly her expression softened and became unbearably sad once more.

"I used to be pretty. So much like you...."

The bus pulled up again and as she boarded, I wondered if I'd be able to push past the loneliness. I wondered if I was just a stupid, pretty thing.

In my mind, I wished the best for her.