Girl of Perfection

Chapter One [Sam]

As soon as I closed the door, she was on me.

Her hair was knotted by foreign fists, her lips bruised, breasts roughened by calloused hands, and she smelled of sweat.

The sight made my head reel, I should've been used to it after all.

That's how it was every day.

Her name was Alex,

and I loved her.

The flesh on her back was always covered in a fine layer of grime, serving as markings of her being thrown down onto random, filthy surfaces.

Alex traced the outline of my lips with her ring finger.

Her nails were always painted a vibrant, firetruck red, which (somehow) she made look elegant.

She wasn't wearing clothes.

We both learned the hard way, that bras & panties just got in the way of scrambling hands, yanking at the material, trying vainly to free your body.

Alex was special.

A beauteous character, with russet hair and deep dimples.

She was smart, and funny, and always talked about having a big family.

Every morning she'd wake up with shining hair, blooming cheeks, and a smile.

She said it's because she sleeps next to me.

I say it's her genes.

We've begun talking about our days, too.

We're numb to penetration, but the shock comes later.

Sex used to be romantic.

I told Alex about Joe.

He was the rough-fingered manager with gray baby hairs adorning his temples like smoke.

He always told me to look at him.

It was "no good" unless you looked at him.

So I always looked through him.

Right through him and observed the coffee-colored stain on his office wall.

Alex always said I was perfect, but Joe always bitched about how I barely had enough of anything to grab on to.

She'll say she loves me, and then tuck me into her side, in a vain effort to try and hold on to whatever piece of me she can.

But it's no use.

I'm always gone before the sun peeks its timid face out from behind our blanket of clouds.