mel·an·chol·ic

one

The bell rings for students to head to there next class. My most valuable moment of each and every day of school. I click the stall shut to provide more privacy. Reaching into my pocket I pull out a hot pink lighter. Not my favorite color.

The smoke pools out of my mouth as I sit on the toilet like it was a nearby seat just there for me. I cough not remembering to push the toxic air out.

Another bell rings, I wake up and remember where I was. Walking out of the stall I rinse my mouth. Washing out the nasty taste. Looking in the mirror I fix my makeup from the river that flowed by.

Opening the bathroom door I look around not trying to take attention away from the rushing of students. Putting a stick of gum in my mouth, I quickly walk to the exit. Pulling my hood down and my feet forward a gush of  cold air hugged my uncovered hands.

Looking both ways before I cross the street reminds me of the times my mom would tell me to take care of myself and not to drink, smoke, or to have sex before marrige.

"Uh, a bottle of whiskey and a pack of marlbro."

"I.D. please."

I stumble through my purse trying not to show my small struggle, Of the drugs taking over.

"Ah there it is."

I show my I.D. of when I was good. With long hair, a bright smile, and a fake soul. Its been different since then. Since love was lost and never to be found.

I hand the ten dollars to the young cashier as he yawns for about the hundred millionth time like he was bored of me than his job.

"Sorry I havent slept in a while."

I nod to him as he hands me my deathly items.