The wall shows you and me. I'm little, sitting on the hot cement of the public pool stretching my limbs to splash you as you taunt me from inside. I use my hands. Then as you swim backwards I stretch and kick my feet making the water splash. You just turned 18 and are allowed to be in the pool during the 15 minute adult swim time but at 11 I'm not so I watch you from the edge. You had jet black straight hair that went down to your shoulders. You were a thin pale hourglass with a polkadotted two piece in black-and-white. You were a best friend of mine, and older sister really. One of the only people to invest in me and the only one who seem to really care but you graduated. Began to grow up. You had a car, a job, went to nursing school, and even had a baby and I'm still here remembering the happenings of years ago when June seem to constantly be smiling at me. I will never forget those summer days with pool taunting, the smell of chlorine, the taste of sand and orange Creamsicles.
The tears flow down now. Without me even blinking, even moving, they stream to my torso then hip bones, halfway down my see-through thighs and the 10 viewers, dead still, staring at the wall have multiplied into 30 people behind me, somehow watching the cinema of memories as it cuts trenches through my heart tissue.
YOU ARE READING
Exposed
Teen Fiction"I've become transparent. Everyone around me watches as my stomach knots itself. Tying and tying and no tries to help or stop my acidic guts from adhering onto the inside of my skin and dissolving me from the inside out. Passersby are paralyzed by t...
