Part 2:
Withered tree branches with leaves barely living sprouting out of the branches, with the relaxing melody of nature chiming in her ears silent in the background always seemed to ignite her brain. Perhaps that is why she had found herself out here in the first place, or maybe she needed to bellow out. She gradually opened her notebook prepared to write with her blood. Pulling a black pen out of her purse, she placed the tip onto the lined paper, hoping the words would flow out onto the page, and create a beauty, a beauty that visually cannot be seen. A kind only the razor cut tongue can recognize, and appreciate. Something appeared to be off today though, her usual feisty tongue seemed as if it cowered away from the world. As she left out a huff time flew by as the piece of paper in front of her remained empty and dull.
Usually her notebook was filled with verses of poems or lyrics, and peculiar doodles or scribbles. At times she had no idea what some of them resulted to in the end. Some of the led from the pencils from the tiny sketches she found the time to write would rub off on multiple pages, causing a grungy dirty look to form. It was as if it created another world for each poem, at times she fantasized about living in the ones she had formed with her brilliant imagination, rather than the tortuous one she was forced to endeavour. She didn’t mind it, it was as if it gave her writings their own mood, and that fascinated her.
Attempting to search for inspiration she flipped through older pages. There was never a clear spot. Even if the doodle or literature did not fill up the whole page, she usually found herself bored in class, and began to shade in the remaining white sections of the page. As she got lost in her note notebook she noticed a greyish tint had begun to rub off on her fingers. She smeared it onto her jeans, which had been cut up, and already appeared to have a few stains on various sections. A few seemed to be from food, and cigarette ash. She was never a tidy person in general, so it never bothered her when her garments seemed ragidy or grubby.
Before she knew it she found herself day dreaming, rather than scanning her writings over. She laid leaned back on a tree that she had been sitting under, and scrutinized into what appeared to be bare to the regular eye. She had seen arms dancing in a giant pool of blue, and white dreams and wonders. The river was full of life. She couldn’t imagine all of the wonders and organisms it provided shelter to.
A small smile painted itself on her lips as two adorable squirrels chased each other up the tree she sat under seeking shade and peace. She observed the two furry creatures, and then pulled out a box of Newports from her purse, and placed one of the glorious cigarettes in between her lips, and ignited the cherry as she inhaled deeply. She took a long long long drag, and then blew out the smoke into the air as she leaned against the tree with her eyes closed, feeling a sense of relief.
Just as she was about to take another delicious drag of her cigarette she felt an acorn slam against the top of her head. She glanced up at the tree expecting to see one of the squirrels from earlier, but instead what came into her vision was a young man
“That’s not really healthy,” He stated as hs dark eyes pierced into her.
She rolled her eyes at his statement. It was not the first time she had heard that line before, in fact she had heard it at least everyday from her mother,but it did not change her behavior and tendencies.
