Tvgirl writing prompts

The venison -She smokes in bed

—explained below—

Mary looked horrible as she stepped out of the dark smoggy cave that was her apartment and into the hallway, each cheap fluorescent light illuminating her every pore. She wore her hair slicked back into a bun, not bothered to wash it at all. She walked down the ugly red patterned carpet equipped with her signature black hoodie and half a bottle of some cheap perfume, probably to hide the smell of decaying girl.

She had finally come out to feed, like a scared animal leaving their hutch. She looked like a deer, she was still a pretty girl, delicate even but above all else fragile. I sometimes worried if I looked at her too long it would leave a dent in her pale paper thin skin.

As she walked by me I gave her a small smile. As any friendly neighbour would have but she didn't look at me. Eyes ahead on her own personal mission. My attempt to make contact with this alien lifeform null and voided.
————————
I hoped she would stay out tonight longer, go meet someone,  go do something, anything outside, just do something other than sit in the rot.

But that was too hopeful, after about an hour I head that familiar elevator rattling back up the building. Peering through the eye hole of my door I saw her and then I smelled her. Oh god the aroma of second hand smoke.

Clutched in her hand like a baby doll was a long square case of cigarettes. I sighed and shook my head at the sight but to be honest what did I expect?

I wondered how long this could go on for before she got sick. Like real  sick. I wondered why she did this, I wondered about everything to do with this shockingly self imposed situation. Most frequently, I wondered what I should do, should I say something to her?  Would she yell at me? Ignore me or tell me to mind my own business? Put her bony little hands over her ears?

I fantasised.  about her confiding in me, kissing her and telling her she would be okay, taking her into my apartment and just looking at her. She'd be like an exotic animal, sticking out like a sore thumb in my cosy little apartment. I'd imagine that scenario at night while I watched and listened to the inconsiderate noise of horns from cars below my balconey.

And by the time my plan was thought out, my strategy to save her  set. I always fall asleep. My genius, my heroism thwarted.

Maybe at my most truthful I acknowledged that it was all just a fantasy. I'm just a guy and she was just a random girl.

But She was as much a girl as she was a forest fire. It was the proximity to those flames, that mystique that kept me warm on those  lonely nights.

When it all comes crashing down and the last spark that jolts her body forward fades, the last bit of warmth trails out I'll be here on this balcony.  To miss her, and what better could she ever realistically hope for?

Oh Mary.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
EXPLANATION:

Simple enough to understand I imagine this from the POV of the girls neighbour. He's horrified and also definitely fascinated by her and the air of misery around her very self destructive life-style. Feeling a misguided desire to help her that's wrapped up in his own feelings of viewing her as someone he can claim or save. Kind of fetishising that sadness her like one of those boy from the book the virgin suicides might have one of the Lisbons. (Can you tell i've been reading that lately)  Basically  the thought of "i can fix her!" In his mind  is manifesting in reality as "i will observe her" definitely a bit dehumanising....

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%