lipstick ➰ jwd

lipstick {2} restless night

same warnings as before but just waaaaay less intense because i wrote all that like a year ago lol anyway here you are you wonderful, meaningful person.

word count: 1203

after todays dispersion of the meeting i returned home to the graveyard, if you could call it a home, and went into the shack bill lets me sleep in to settle down for the night.

in the dirty, broken mirror that i had superglued to the shabby, wooden wall of the shack i took off my lipstick, the thing i wore to hide my low confidence.

i laid my head on the pillow of the makeshift bed and stared up at the ceiling which bill had covered in glow in the dark stars for me when i moved in. i wondered about liam. what was his real name? how old was he? would i know him still had my parents survived?

he was a mystery.

i had asked myself these questions every night since i met him, but never gotten an answer.

with my mind on liam i closed my eyes and fell into a restless sleep, a petrifying dream stopping me from true rest.

in the morning i awoke to socks mewing at me for his first, and possibly only, meal of the day.

i checked the time on the newish wall clock that bill had splashed out on for me the previous christmas to find that i had slept for a whole hour while bill was working, and that i'd have to brave going through his 'office', the morgue. the freezers, the little 'dissection' table in the middle of the room, with various other equipment that i did not, nor did i want to, know about.

as i walked through i was extremely happy to see that he was not embalming anyone, he was in fact just filing some final paperwork for his newest corpse.

"hey dad," i said to him, hugging him, "good sleep?"

"yes sweetie, i have a funeral today, so i'm making sure that everything is perfect and precise to the robinson family's wishes." he smiled, "and you?"

"great sleep, dad. whom of the robinsons is it?" i asked, as a woman named martha robinson had been my mothers best friend.

"martin robinson," he started, finding a picture of martin before his death, who looked uncannily like martha, only very much happier. i had never seen martha smile once, but this martin looked as if he hadn't a care in the world. "died only three months after he completed his transition, the poor dear. only got three months as himself. he was a friend of your mother's before the accident i belie--"

"accident?" i snarled, my happy mood dispersing the second the word exited his mouth. "an accident, was it, dad? 'oh, oops, i dropped a fucking bomb on the home of the richest people in all of somerset, or in england if you disregarded the queen.' no. it was not an accident. if it was i would still have my brother."

he jumped at my outburst and a saddened look was painted across his face, and although i felt bad, i kept my nostrils flared and teeth bared, not ready to back down.

"please calm down lola, i didn't mean it like that, and you know it." he almost whispered.

hearing him sound so upset calmed me down, it gave me the perspective i needed to talk rationally back to him.

"i'm sorry, dad, but you do know how that affects me." i said, and walked away.

when me and bill have arguments we don't prolong apologies, but instead carry on with our lives, as we know how short they are, having witnessed the ends of lives in our own ways.

socks padded up to me and wrapped himself around my leg, purring for whatever meal it was time for. i picked him up in my arms, feeling his little tummy growling almost as much as mine, and we went to do our version of a weekly shop - shoplifting.

when we arrived at the local shop, i placed him down carefully on the pads of his paws, and he wandered into the shop. due to the age of the shop, there were no cameras, so i grabbed a loaf of bread, some eggs and some milk, placed the top of the loaf of bread into socks' mouth and walked out as nonchalantly as i could while stealing two things that were quite big.

we had one tin of catfood left from the last time, but socks preferred scrambled eggs and toast, which was prehaps a bit fancy for a cat but i'd do anything to please such a loyal friend.

i hid the stolen food under the bed incase the police were to come, which sounds unlikely, but it happens all the time to check out reports on bodies.

the old fashioned wall clock chimed, telling me that it was around an hour until the na meeting, so i needed to work on getting something for the cornucopia (which was actually a burnt mesh bin) within the next half an hour to get there in the right time.

the house i normally took from had its lights off, unknowingly signalling that it was able to be stolen from. an ivy plant had stuck itself onto the wall i was about to climb. there was a drainpipe in the tangle of ivy, a helpful device to get me up the wall. due to my light weight and grip, i scaled the wall within a minute and pushed the open a window to the bedroom of a teen boy, one the boy always forgot to lock.

next to his bed was a set of drawers, and by observation before i had ever even entered the house, i knew that the middle drawer contained around half a pound of cocaine distributed into baggies, a couple ounces of weed, some (possibly used) needles, a stained spoon and whatever was wrapped in a black silk cloth in the right back corner. i grabbed a few baggies of stuff
and an ounce or so of weed and shoved them into my bra, which i had to use as d.i.y. pockets into for the same reason i was using it now.

i checked the time on the wall clock and saw i had about 20 minutes to do a 10 minute walk to na. i crept to the window, being sure to be totally and utterly silent, and scaled my way down the ivy-camouflaged pipe and landed on the ground with a miniscule thud.

i walked towards the dark abyss of woodland, as it was the quickest way i could get to na, and as i strolled past all the trees, a sense of peace and calm washed over me, one i only get under the plethora of leaves that were currently above me, and one i got at the na meetings, especially when i was with liam, even though the only thing we really knew about each other were the addictions the both of us had, and the way the other looked.

songs for the chapter:
•robbers, the 1975
•can't feel my face, the weeknd