Purple Nail Polish

Seraphine

   In Stranton, Missouri nothing ever really happens; it's the same thing every day. We try not to draw attention to ourselves or else you'll always be remembered for being the way we are. We're young and we don't know how to fix ourselves. When I say "we", I really mean me. There's not really a 'we'.

    I sat in the library down the street from my house when I thought about how the world has evolved into something terrible. To get away from the thought of the world being a terrible place, I started to admire the things around me. Like how the library's blue shades complemented the brick walls. It always smelled like lavender and vanilla. It was completely unique and full of comfort. I walked slowly around the shelves, scanning, trying to find the right book for the moment. I came across a book called Eternal, I saw that it was about angels and I was sold. The chair in the far corner of the library was empty; I went to the chair to sit down and start reading the book. I noticed a guy scanning the shelves like his life depended on it. I couldn't help but wonder what he was looking for, so I got up from my chair and sat my things down to save my spot.

    The guy was wearing black Converse high tops, bootcut jeans, and a Five Finger Death Punch tee shirt. He had good taste in music, obviously. He had short brown hair that was spiked up with gel. His face was warm and subtle, but at the same time he was very alluring. When I went over to him at first I didn't know what to say, but he spoke first luckily. His voice reminded me of David Draiman from Disturbed. It was incredibly beautiful.

    He turned to face me,"Do you work here?"

    His eyes were emeralds. They were undeniably the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. They were like green Jolly Ranchers. The light green was surrounded by a thin border of black. The black in his eyes emphasized how big they were. They were beautiful in every way.

    "I don't work here, but I come here just about every day and if you need help finding something, I can help. I was sitting over there," I pointed to the chair,"I thought you might need some help."

    "Well, I'm trying to find a book called Return To The Dark House. I read the first book and now I really want to read the sequel."

    "Good choice. It's one of my favorites. It's intense. It'll be the third row back, first shelf on the right." I smiled and then turned around to go back to where I sat.

    "Hey, I'm Oliver." He ran up in front of me and motioned to shake my hand.

    I shook his hand and spoke softly,"I'm Seraphine."

    "Would you want to get, I don't know, a drink sometime?"

    "Honestly, I would love to, but I don't turn twenty-one until May."

    "Oh, sorry. I just assumed, my bad."

    He was almost stuttering, he was obviously so nervous,"It's really okay. Would you maybe want my number? We could always go see a movie or meet up here."

    His face lit up almost instantly,"I would love that!"

    "Would you happen to have a piece of paper?"

    "I have an old receipt you can write your number on. The lady in the front of the store may have a pen."

    "It's okay. I have a pen in my bag."

    I walked back to the chair to get my pen. I pulled the pen out of my purse and then took my time to write my number clearly on the reciept for him. I handed it to him and he carefully folded it and tucked it in his back pocket.

    "Well, I should probably be getting home. My roommate will be annoyed if I don't bring him his food. Now that I have your number, I will call you tomorrow. Is that okay?"

    "That's really okay. I should get going as well. I don't need my mother waiting up for me."

    "You live with your parents?"

    "I wish I didn't." I sighed and began to walk away. He probably thought that I was so pathetic.

    I grabbed my things from the chair and walked to the door. I turned and looked at Oliver before opening the door with my head bowed down, walking away with my pride left behind. I took my iPod out of my pocket as I began walking home and turned on a classic rock station on Pandora. It was something to help brighten the day.

    As I kept walking, I was beginning to see my house in the distance. I was so ashamed of where I lived. The house was just completely falling apart. The yard was covered in junk and trash because my step dad never did anything with it. The dark green paint on the house was chipped of everywhere and it was hardly green anymore. To top it all off, the roof was caving in.

    I walked up to the front door, debating if I should even go inside. I sighed and stepped inside the house quietly, but quick so no one would notice me. Almost immediately my mom came into place, standing right in front of me, blocking me from going anywhere.

    I could smell the liquor on her breath as she spoke,"What do you think you're doing?"

    I hesitated before answering,"I'm going to my room. Do you have a problem with that?" I pushed past her and practically ran to my room and locked my door.

I could hear her fumbling towards the door. She started banging on the door yelling slurred words,"When are you going to get a job and get out of my life?"

I ignored her and walked to my bed and put my earphones in. Music made it easy to escape from the harsh reality that my drunk mother created. I always thought about what would happen if I turned out like her. But, I wouldn't stoop to her level. I tried getting her help, but he always talked her out of it.

She used to be beautiful; popular. She had bright red hair, bright green eyes, the perfect body. Then, she shut us all out; began drinking. She can't even spell her own name. Her hair is full of grey, her eyes have faded, she doesn't eat. He has damaged her completely. He gives her drugs just to keep her numb and obedient. It's ironic that she only married him for his money and now we're broke. Stan used to be a nice guy, but now he's completely lost. His hair has turned white, his blue eyes are full of pain, he's six foot five and weighs nearly two hundred and fifty pounds. He ruined my mother and now I wish him all the pain in the world. Every time I heard him hit her, I cringed, but I couldn't do anything about it. If I called the police, he would just hit her harder and they'd both act like nothing happened. I fell asleep quickly, so when he got home I wouldn't hear anything.