Naked Truth [On -going ]

Naked Truth - Chapter V

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I don't know how to these Author notes thing, so sorry i'm so bad at it!!

Happy reading!! :)

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EMMA HEUSSAFF

Saturday, August 12, 11:45 AM

Katie's about to cut me.

She's got the safety pin pressed up to my forearm.

Her hands all jittery, like someone's leaked all the blood out of her veins and shot them up with Pixie Stix sugar. There are smiley faces across her fingernails, bright pink ones -- some with missing eyes where the paint has already chipped, others half chewed-off mouths.

"Hurry up!" I say. "If you don't do it, you'll have to go home."

"No!" she whines.

I tear the sign from her shirt. This is the second time this week she's come over with a torn piece of notebook paper pinned to her shirt, the words PLEASE DO NOT FEED KATIE handwritten in pretty cursive letters across the page. Must have been a bad week.

"Don't!" she shouts at me.

I laugh at her and crumple the sign up into a paper ball, throw it toward my Tupperware garbage pail.

"Your mom's fucked. I'm surprised you don't just tear it off yourself." She looks scared, like I screwed things up for her. "Hurry up!" I say, referring to the pin, trying to take her mind off it.

Her eyes spill over with drippy tears.

"Please, Emma, no." she whines.

"Don't act like such a baby. I thought you wanted to be my friend."

"I do." She nods toward the pin, like it will help her.

"Then prove it."

It's been a little goal of mine this past year -- to get all my friends to cut me.

Not that Katie's a real friend. She's just a kid who always comes around to bug me. But she thinks she's my friend, so that must count for something.

I kick my bare legs back and forth on the bed, my heels bouncing against that naked mattress. I'm thinking about getting a tattoo, one on my arch maybe, but not a butterfly or a snake, or anything lame ass like that. (A/N no offense to those readers who have those tats on them) I want a tattoo that no one else has -- a squashed chicken with bulging eyes, maybe, or a bunch of rusty nails.

When my ex boyfriend, Sean, turned 18, he had my face tattooed to his chest, because he said I'd always be in his heart. I laugh whenever I think of him with another girl, with my face coming at her while they're trying to do the nasty.

I looked over at Katie, at how her barrettes, her shirt and her open-toe sandals are all Tinkerbell-theme coordinated, like she's five. Even the trim on her white tennis skirt has tiny magic wands floating against the swirly pink fabric.

"How old are you now, anyway?" I ask.

"Eleven." she answers, really concentrating on that pin.

"Well, I'm six years older than you and I don't like hanging out with babies."

If I can get Katie to cut me then there'll just be Scarlett left.

Scarlett's the kind of girl who draws smiley faces and happy hearts all over the covers of her notebooks and still believes in stuff like happily ever after and making birthday wishes. She's also the only person I know who works at all these different places for free' who participates in walkathon causes and donates her old stuff to Goodwill and starving children.

I've been trying to get her cut me for a while now, but every time I ask she gets all Al-Anon on me; she hugs me extra tight, kisses my cheek, and then doesn't even justify the question with an answer.

Me and Scarlett have plans together late. I'm hoping I'll get her to do it then.

I pull a lighter out from the bib pocket of my overalls.

"Think your fingernails could be a little dirtier? The least you could have done was wash them. That's so rude."

They're all sticky and gross from eating up all my circus peanuts. I grab the safety pin from her grubby fingers and run the point under the flame a few seconds. "Make sure you don't touch me with those. I'll get infected."

I hand Katie back the pin and she points the tip into my skin.

"Worthless, waste of my time." I sing.

Her eyebrows stitch together and her mouth forms a tiny frown, her cheeks all extra red and puffy.

"No Emma! I can't. I can't do it!" she finally fumes.

She throws the pin down and turns away from me on the bed.

I'm tempered to lash out at her, to tell her to go home and that I never want to see her again.

But I can't.

I need to play cool, appeal to her desperate side, use reverse psychology.

I say, "That's fine, Katie. I completely understand. It's not for everybody. I mean, just because all my other friends have done it, doesn't mean that you have to, too. You're just not ready to be my friend, that's all."

I stand, head for the door, and open it a crack to let her out.

"No, I don't want to leave." she whines, pulling at her lashes.

"Will you do it then?"

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Hi guys! Again, short!! :) i just want you guy to meet, Emma :) and what kind of person she is!

Do you like her? :)) comment comment!!