High Buns, Suitcases and Cigars

High Buns Suitcases and Cigars | 3

•03•

"She can paint a pretty picture but this story has a twist. The paintbrush is a razor and the canvas is her wrist."

-Amy Efaw

The sound of thunder boomed throughout the house.

I jumped, startled out of my sleep.

I ran a hand over my face before looking at my clock.

The bright red lights blinked twice before I was able to read it. 11:42

I groaned. Was that girl still out there? God, she was annoying. Yeah, she hadn't really said anything to piss me off, but I was in the middle of a much-needed smoke and here she came out-nowhere interrupting it.

And who randomly shows up at a isolated house and asks a complete stranger can they stay the night in their home anyway?

That's complete idiocy in my opinion.

I breathed out a heavy breath, thoughts jumbling in my mind. I didn't feel guilty about not letting her in because she was a runaway. So she had a place to stay. To eat. She chose to leave that home, so it was her fault for being stuck out here by herself.

If she was kicked out or lived with abusive parents, then I'd let her in, no questions asked. But she seemed like she was one of those girls who caught attitudes way to quick and took it out on her family by being a bitch and running away.

Yeah, I said the word bitch. I'm not saying she is one, but she's acting like one.

Another clap of thunder sounded followed by a streak of lighting. I looked out the window and saw her - the girl from before - sitting on the ground, letting the rain slam against her skin one by one.

From the way her shoulders were rapidly moving up and down, I could assume she was crying.

I rolled my eyes, and knocked on the window to call her attention. She didn't look up until after the seventh knock. Even from my window, I could see the glint of hope in her eyes, the hope that I'd had a change of heart and let her stay.

I actually considered it for a moment, but the memories of what happened last time prevented me from doing so.

The girl stood up, still looking at me.

I made a 'shooing' motion with my hands, trying to signal for her to leave.

Please get the message.

She still stayed confused. I muttered to myself at her stupidity. How slower could you get?

Forcing the window up, I stuck my head out and yelled, "Leave!"

She stared, wide-eyed, for a few seconds before slowly backing away. After getting a few feet, she turned and ran through the rain.

She didn't get a few feet before tripping and falling to the ground painfully hard. I winced. Unlucky her.

She stayed on the ground, clutching her leg and side. I snorted. Clumsy. I turned and retreated back to my bed, putting the pillow over top my head to block the sounds of the rain angrily pounding on the roof.

I couldn't sleep. So I layed, thinking about the girl. So many goddamn thoughts! I clutched my head, gritting my teeth.

Your such an asshole

Whatever.

Dammit, stop talking to yourself physco!

Go help the girl, NOW!

Leave the bitch alone.

Worthless asshole! Now you see why no one cares for you.

I wanted to make it stop, to let all these fucking thoughts stop invading my mind. But I couldn't. I wouldn't. These thoughts were my own personal demons sent straight from the devil himself.

Author's Note: Idunno if the picture is up, but here's the boy, Rowen, portrayed by the Colton Haynes *swoons* I know, I made him super shitty and that's exactly what i want.