"can you do me a favour?"
she asked.
"don't look at me."
•••••
My prediction comes true.
I pick a poppy-red pill, and a blue capsule filled with little baubles. The containers that they come in no longer reside in our house, rather, all my little pills live in a Ziploc bag, the different colours all mingling together, and sometimes, staining the others.
As soon as they slide down my throat, I feel stronger; more ready to face the world. My strides towards Queensland High School take me further into the voluptuous sky.
When I tap the ugly yellow sign that proudly proclaims, "Welcome to the home of the Queesland Alligators," I go straight to my remedial language class, not bothering to sign in at the office.
As I walk to the East wing, I pull the drawstrings on my hoodie tight around my face, and look down at the cracks in the pavement.
Without the cracks in the pavement, the city couldn't breathe,
I think sadly as the pebbles and broken glass that have accumalated on the concrete crackle against the soles of my combat boots.
They're black, of course, along with every other item of clothing that I own. When I turned twelve, and things began to.....happen, I stole three cans of black spray paint from the hardware store and covered every piece of apparel that I owned.
I take a deep breath as I push open the double doors on the far side of the East wing. Air whooshes out as I step inside, and my gaze is fixtated- in a concrete mold- at the unremarkable grey floor.
welcome to the place of nightmares.
YOU ARE READING
"Don't Look At Me"
Short Story"can you do me a favour?" she asked. "don't look at me." {My #StopBodyShaming contest entry.}
