Mystery in Fishnet Tights

3

part 3. enjoy

Copyright 2012.

~S.

Viewpoint: The Mystery Girl. Again, who the Hell is she?/ Return of the Artist.

            Green. Marijuana. Red. Heroin. Blue. LSD. Yellow. Crack. Orange. PCP. Pink. Acid. Purple. Ecstasy.

            Black. Life.

            Blank Canvas. Her mind.

            She opened her eyes, and slowly blew the smoke out of her mouth. It curled around her face and levitated up to the clock. It was six in the morning and she hadn't slept all night. She rolled over and tapped Emilee with her foot. "Get up," she said. "You have school today."

            Emilee moaned and slowly sat up. "Are you going today?" 

            She raised an eyebrow at her friend.

            Em sighed. "I guess that's a no."

            "A hell no."

         Adda took more puff on her joint, lobbed into the trashcan, and closed her eyes again.

         GreenMarijuana. RedHeroin. BlueLSD. YellowCrack. OrangePCP. PinkAcid. PurpleEcstasy.   

      It had been two days since she had had anything but weed. She needed more. A lot more. Behind her closed eyelids, she saw a boy's face.  He was calling her name, desperately, begging her to return. His cries sounded real, like he was there with her.

        Adda's eyes flashed open. She had clearly had too much.

       Or not enough.

       "Maybe you need to see him," Emilee said from inside her closet. "To know if he's still okay."

     Adda cursed under her breath. She had been talking out loud again. She wasn't surprised; thinking about him always made her a bit out of it, even when she was sober. "Danielle would never give me my Mustang back, especially after last time."

       "Tell her you're gonna go visit your mom."

      Adda burst out laughing. "That's freaking crazy....but it just might work." She reached for her water bottle. "He's not gonna wanna see me."

       He had made that very clear before she left.

       Emilee emerged from the closet and threw a ball of clothes at her. "If you're wearing this he will."

        Adda held the clothes up and smiled mischievously. "This will be perfect."

        Something sparks her blank canvas mind and inspiration flows through he like pure adrenaline. This feels different from the high; more alive and powerful. More positive. Something she hasn't felt in a while. This rush paints the canvas a bright explosion of energy and she's inspired.  

          Finally.

       The artist is back.