Paradise

II

Sadness is gritting your teeth because new cuts rub against long sleeves.

And thats what paradise did. Because she was long sleeves and dark circles under icey blue eyes that remind a certain boy of frozen lakes and clear skies. An ellaborate ruse of large shirts and baggy pants and playing with her sickly looking greenish mashed potatoes and wanting to be the one thing she already was, perfect.

And she was cuts and burns and regrets.

Paradise pushes her nearly black hair out of her icey blue eyes that remind a certain boy of frozen lakes and clear skies. The pen that she twisted into her hair was falling from her long dark brown hair as she walked home. The small breaths that puffed through her heart shaped lips turned white against the cold Maryville air. She enters her small box-like house that looks a little too much like a prison to feel homely.

Paradise's father was anything but fatherly. He was always drunk or high or angry.

And tonight, he was all three.

"Your late, whore." Raymond Greene growls, hurling his not quite empty bottle against the once white wall.

" daddy, it's three o'clock on the dot, im half an hour early." She tries, desperately praying that he doesn't hit her.

As always, her prayers are not answered.

A mighty fist cracks against her cheek as she cowers down, leaving a large bruise in its wake. "You calling me a liar, little slut?" he roars, punching her again and again.

She wasn't. But even if she was, she wouldn't be wrong.

Raymond Greene is an angry drunken junkie liar. And right now, is exhibiting all four of those toxic traits.

He looks like addiction and smells like depression. He is the father of the ellaborate ruse of large shirts and baggy pants and long sleeves rubbing against new cuts and playing with sickly looking greenish mashed potatoes and dark circles under icey blue eyes that remind a certain boy of frozen lakes and clear skies. The girl who was but skin and bones and cuts and burns and regrets. Paradise.

And right now, she was no where near her own name. She was there, lying on the cold, dirty, cracked linoleum floor in a puddle of her own tears and regrets.

And she was broken.

Parker sighed heavily as he closed his brown eyes that remind a certain girl of hot chocolate and warm mahogany fires that burn a little too bright. And he was alone. Always he was surrounded by noise he could not hear, but now, now he was surrounded by darkness as well. Parker was not born deaf, but became so when he was twelve. Parker was in a car crash five years ago that caused trauma to his auditory cortex, rendering his ears useless.

Parker missed music.

But he didn't need to hear the voice of the girl with the icey blue eyes that remind him of frozen lakes and clear skies to know that her words were a symphony of melody and beautiful harmony.

So he lied there, in a deep, dark silence until he felt a vibration against his hip. He slipped his cellphone out of his pocket and checked the screen, being met with a text from his good friend, Zach.

*Paradise lives at 7383 Levi drive of Alden street. Beware of her dad tho, he's a bit of an ass.*

Parker smiles widely, realising that his beautiful little Paradise lives only six blocks away. He stands, pulling off his white button up and red tie that happened to be the school uniform. And as he dresses in a black teeshirt and leather jacket he thinks about the girl with the icey blue eyes that remind him of frozen lakes and clear skies, but even though her eyes seemed cold, he could see the warmth behind them.

He noticed the angry red slashes on her wrists, and the sadness that was held in each of the purple bruises that littered her perfectly imperfect face.

Her eyes were cold. But not hateful.

Because she was an ellaborate ruse of large shirts and baggy pants and long sleeves rubbing against new cuts and playing with sickly looking greenish mashed potatoes and lying on the cold, dirty, cracked linoleum floor in a puddle of her own tears and dark circles under icey blue eyes that remind him of frozen lakes and clear skies. The girl who was but skin and bones and cuts and burns and regrets.

And he was on the way to her house.