The girl shuddered underneath her blanket, surrounding herself in darkness as her door was closed, her blinds shut tight. The barking of a dog outside that wouldn't let up and a few cars that passed her street had started to keep her up that night, and before she knew it, she was lying there, wide awake. Her thoughts, she had hoped, would take her to a magical place where her boyfriend would wrap her in his arms and whisper sweet nothings in her ear, or he'd take her out on a date at some cute little Italian restaurant where they'd share Tiramisu and bad jokes.
But you couldn't always get what you wanted.
Her thoughts weren't happy at all. They were abusive and angry, depressing and sad. Her boyfriend was slapping, kicking, and yelling at her. The girl nearly lost it when her thoughts whispered resentfully that he used her.
She wished desperately that it was just a figment of her imagination that pushed those words into her head, but she knew with an aching heart that they were indeed real. A tear rolled down her cheek as his face clouded her images, not being able to break away from him. He was her first love.
His hazel eyes always shone when he saw her, his deep brown, almost black hair styled always in a faux-hawk. His plump lips had rings on both sides of them, snakebites, and she adored the cold metal on her lips when he kissed cherry chapstick kisses. The fake plugs that he wore were attractive to the girl, though she wondered why he never actually stretched out his ears to wear the real ones. His natural scent of lavender and cinnamon wafted into her nose from memory, and she smiled lightly despite the tears as she felt surrounded by him.
Yearning, she reached out onto the blanket, sighing heavily when she felt that he wasn't there at all. He wasn't going to be. Why would he? They weren't together anymore. She let her tears flow with a pang in her heart, dawning realization saying that she was, in fact, alone.
