Arabella✨

one

I saw her for the first time at an old cd shop, her beautiful dark hair tumbling past her shoulders piercing blue eyes, tear stained cheeks and smudged auburn lipstick, she was the perfect example of a beautiful tragedy.

Each day she reappeared she went through old records her smile never fully revealing itself to me or anybody else, we'd never spoken but I wanted her mine all the same. Every now and again she would catch me looking at her, she was vulnerable yet very independent, it was strange, I'd never been quite so intrigued by any person in my life. She was unhappy, her sadness was something I recognised. It was something i saw in the mirror every day.

I stationed myself at the cash register as soon as i saw her enter the Record store at which I worked. I knew she was coming, it wasn't a shock to me, but a sensation of fear and excitement pulsated through my body nonetheless. I'd never talked to her before but today might be the day I do. Watching as she flicked through multiple Arctic Monkeys cd's, they were probably nothing she hadn't heard before, nothing I hadn't watched her buy 10 times over, but that lured me in even further.

She walked up to me, cheek rosy but with no glow to them, she handed me a record and tossed a few coins on to the counter. "hi" I tried to say but it came out as a mere whisper "My names Michael?" She blinked looking only slightly in my direction. "R-" she started but quickly correcting herself she squeaked "Arabella" tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. I handed her her receipt and bag and watched as she scurried out the shop door clearly fazed by human interaction.