Life's Little Teardrops

4. Picture Painful

At first I had thought maybe if I got deep enough into the city maybe I'd see all of my friends and tons of people I knew and it would turn out okay.

But so far I had seen nothing but afew crows and some overgrown lawns.

Right now I was nearing the Shop Center of our tiny town. It was pretty much an area that had all of our major stores, Raley's, Walmart, Payless shoes stores, and others. I hulled down the hill towards what had once been an always-packed parking lot but now looked more than empty.

There did seem to be afew cars around Walmart though. One of which was a Dark Blue Jeep that looked almost exactly like my friend Deedee's.

I stopped the car about 6ft. from the Jeep and got out to take a look.

It was almost empty but for some Red sunglasses and a picture on the dashboard.

It was of a girl, about 5'4 with dark Burgundy hair and big brown eyes.

She was mid-laugh and looked so hilarious I knew it was Deedee. I ripped the picture off the dashboard careful not to damage the already sun damaged photo.

I took it and the sunglasses slipping them on carefully.

I walked towards the Volvo and put the picture in the middle of my notebook.

Maybe she was in there. Maybe she had some new crowd of Badass fashionistas like herself, but maybe she wasn't. And I'd never see her again except in that picture.

I took the notebook and opened it to a blank page to do some writing.

A picture is worth 1,000 words, 1,000,000 thoughts and 100 tears.

The memory a picture will bring is deeper that anything. It will tear your heart out. Bash your head in and tell you that you must never forget the rest of your life.

Even if you try. The memories stay, and they play with your Demons all day until you're almost done because they have won.

But you cry too hard, you cry shards of glass to erase the past that haunts your soul and takes its tole without second thoughts.

That sounds perfect.

I place the journal on the seat and take the Pistol I brought from my house.

I shut the door and walk to the doors that usually open welcomingly. But instead I walk up and tap them with my fist. No one comes to the door so I try to pry the glass panels apart to no avail.

I think of breaking them but if there is people inside, I wouldn't want to cause a ruckus.

I think of back doors, I don't think there are any... except the one by the fishing and sports section.

I walk past the plastic panels separating the gardening section from the outside. Through the auto garage I find the back door that my Dad would always use.

I can smell it now, the stench. Like the aquarium fish were rotten, which by now they were. I walked trough the isles to an employees register where there is a small microphone and speaker. I push the button and speak into the mic. "Hello. Eliza Dutton here. All live humans report to the movie isles. Thank you."

I walk towards the children's toys and bike racks where the Technology items begin.

A wall type shelf houses 15 TVs ranging in sizes and several DVD players.

I walk to the movie section where new releases are mismatched in the Horror Movie shelves.

I pick up one off my favorites, 'We're the Millers' which I recently bought on my iPhone.

As I'm reading the movies information on the back I feel a pain in the back of my head.

It feels like my head was cut open and ants were eating my flesh.

I fall to the floor and my vision begins to blur as cliché as that is. I barely turn my head when my chin is kicked so hard I hear my neck pop.

I feel so tired. Maybe I'm just dreaming. We all youst to talk about the dreams we'd had in our lives. Deedee always had the funny ones, but Bailey's were just weird.

My head throbbed, I could tell even though it was hard to feel.

All I could feel was the burn in my heart.

Someone was here, But the didn't want me to be.

It was more painful than words. More painful than a first love's rejection, more painful than gossip or being called ugly. More painful than anything I'd faced before.

Because even now when this person was probably the last one alive, They wouldn't say a word to me.

I closed my eyes and waited to drift away. Maybe to Neverland with my parents and friends, or maybe to Wonderland with Alice and the Hatter.

I sat there waiting for days as it seemed. Finally I opened my eyes again and saw a pool of blood spreading along the white linoleum. Was that mine?

I always thought my blood would be more scarlet or Burgundy.

I looked across the floor where the blood was dripping into the DVD shelves.

My head still hurt and I was still exhausted but I lifted my head up of the ground, just a few inches.

I herd a voice, but I couldn't see who was talking. I couldn't make out the words either.

I felt someone kick my head, just where the spine and skull touched.

And that was it.