‡ fishnet ‡ m.c.

5

I wonder if I dreamed.

I never remember my dreams.

I don't know why, I just don't.

I look over to my night stand. My clock tells me that it's 8 AM. I realize that I slept in my clothes last night. I lazily walk over to my closet and plan an outfit. I'm going to the graveyard today. I remove all of my clothes, then my fishnets, then my bra and underwear. I look at my naked body in the mirror. I don't know what to think. I put on a nice grey bra, and matching grey panties, then I carefully put on my stockings, and then throw on my other clothes. (link to the Polyvore outfit in the A.N.)

I sit at my vanity and do my regular makeup process, just making sure to add a bit of extra foundation to my neck, where a bruise has formed. I decide to walk to the graveyard, instead of driving. I grab my phone and headphones, and play some One OK Rock. My friend introduced them to me, and lately I've been loving them.

As soon as I'm outside I realize that I haven't put on mascara. Whatever. I walk to the graveyard, in a pretty good mood. I arrive, and sit down on my wooden bench. I don't really know why I think Michael will come here, I just do.

⚪⚪⚪

About ten minutes pass, when I hear twigs snapping. I look around and I am sudenly overtaken with panic. Why did I even want to see him? I truly don't know what to do so I blurt out something.

"Do you suffocate yourself too?" I ask.

He whispers something I can't understand.

"What was that?" I ask.

"Yes."

I really don't know how to respond so I just squirm on the bench a bit.

"Why do you do it?" He whispers.

I suddenly feel uncomfortable talking about this with a stranger, and a sudden burst of courage comes through me, so instead of responding I say

"Let's not talk about things like that now, let's get to know each other."

He walks over to the log I'm sitting on and sits down, I'm thankful that he sits a couple inches away from me, so we don't accidentally touch.

"What's your favorite color?" He asks me.

"Baby blue, How about you?" (lmao bitch im rhyme master 3000)

"Probably grey"

It's my turn to ask a question now.

"What are your middle and last names?"

"Michael Gordon Clifford"

"Alice Penderson, I don't have a middle name"

⚪⚪⚪

We went on like that for an hour or so, and it was .Michael's turn to ask me a question

"Are you single?" He awkwardly blurts out.

I probably blushed, because I did like Michael in 'that way'. He was a great guy.

"Yes"

"Me too" he mumbles.

An awkward silence settles upon us, so I grab my phone to distract myself.

"Oh shit, it's late I need to go."

I jump up to go, but Michael grabs my wrist (then we make out and have sex in a graveyard and make babies) and asks for my number so we can hang out again. I give it to him, but before I can say goodbye he puts his hand on the back of my pulsing neck, and pulls me in for a kiss.

It's warm, with love and lust. I immediately pull back and run all the way home.

QuEsTiOn TiMe:

What color are your earbuds?

A.N. hehe they kissed n she got coooooties hehehe

-maggie