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Carmen likes to drive with the windows down so she can hear what the island is saying at night. she likes it's broken english, likes seeing the neon colors of the atlantic. they always said this island would be underwater by now; then again, that's what they say about her. perhaps she must learn how to swim.
perhaps she should also try not to be so scared of bodies, of curves, of skin, as it's far too hot for jeans. she goes from the beach to the car ride home in sticky, salty hair. what's the point of foundation? it'll just melt off anyway. just some mascara, and—
"can i borrow some lipgloss?" carmen carrera peers around the doorway of her older sisters bedroom. but of course, kiara's not home—she's never home. she's always with her stupid friends, getting into stupid trouble and leaving carmen behind. so carmen takes the lipgloss anyways—out of spite or because she actually needs it, the world may never know.
she spends her days tanning because what's the difference? she flies too close to the sun anyways. its her only constant lover, the way it kisses her skin and hair more than blake ever has. he leaves her all the time, no wonder she only feels pretty in the cover of darkness. and so she spends her days waiting, waiting, waiting for said darkness to fall to feel worthy, feel something.
carmen walks with her head held high and eyes gleaming mean, unfazed as blake barlow sneaks an arm around her waist, snaking his hand to rest upon her ass. they stood in the yard of some highschool senior she didn't know the name of, shouts of drunken teenagers filling the air.
carmen was electric and so, so alive as she spun in a circle, her pupils wide and dialated. she gazes up at the twenty one year old draped around her with sweet doe eyes. "got any more?"
"two was already pushing it." blake replied, hand instinctively grasping the pill bottle in his back pocket.
carmen pouted, cherry red lips puffing out. the trees were already whispering to her, extending their limbs in an attempt to grab the girl wasting away her youth. colors were singing and now the world's reaching, clawing, grabbing. the grass beneath her bare feet smiled before opening and swallowing carmen whole and alice in wonderland tumbled
carmen met molly when she was newly fourteen. they got along nicely, and molly helped carmen to relax. she had always been the more anxious and uptight carrera, had stuck so closely to kiara her entire life. carmen would have never so much as dreamed of relying on drugs—never would have dared to attend a party with so many strangers. perhaps it was the piercing headache blake gifted her, or maybe his fierce way of persuasion, but when carmen awoke in the older boys bed the next morning the world seemed a bit too dull and quiet. she missed the colorful ways of molly and all the songs she made the world sing.
