We Go Way Back

Meet Silence Grey and Marshall Mathers

        "You bleached your hair again?" I asked as my 17 year old best friend walked in.
        His ice blue eyes lit up when he saw me. I smiled at him and he came over to where I was sitting and sat next to me. He picked up the picture I was drawing and smiled as his eyes roamed over the soft blue sky, his favorite jacket I drew on him in detail, hair peroxide blond, those blue eyes that had always made me feel safe, and his golden earrings.
        "I'm keeping this you know," he said and looked back at me. I rolled my eyes and smiled.
        "Yeah but first I gotta sign it and put the date so you can remember this day every time you glance at it," I said, scribbling my signature and the date in the right bottom corner.
        "Whats so special about today?" he asked. I grabbed my baby blue bag and dug out the purple hair dye I bought this morning. I tossed it to him and he caught it, his eyes glancing at it for a mere second before looking back at me.
        "Your dyeing your hair?" he asked, giving me a strange look.
        "Yeah, why not?" I shrugged, taking it back. I shoved it back in my bag, looking over my shoulder for my dad. I knew I was being paranoid, he hadn't been home these past couple days.
        "What about your dad?" he asked the question that made fear spike in my chest, raising an eyebrow. I pushed the feeling down and gave him a 'really' look.
        "Marshall, you know I don't give a rats ass what he thinks anymore. He can go die in a fucking hole for all I care," I said shrugging my shoulders again. And it was true, I didn't care what he thought.
        I hoped Marshall didn't see my unease, he always managed to read me like a book.
        Marshall paused and I looked up at him to see that his eyebrows were furrowed and his baby blues were searching my face. I snorted and shook my head, trying to clear the sudden uncomfortable atmosphere.
        "When you wanna do it?" he asked finally, and I sighed in relief.
        "I was hoping today, you gonna stay again?" I asked hopefully. He nodded. He always spent the night when him and his mom had problems.
        I smiled and poked his cheek. Yeah, I'm a weirdo.
        "I hope you have somethin' else to do other than dyeing your hair. I mean, not that it ain't pretty exciting or anything," he said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes.
        "Well, I did have something pretty fun to do. Found a paintball gun 'n figured we go mess around but since I'm so non-exciting, I'll just ask... I'll ask..." shit, how can I make him jealous? He smirked at me and I figured who. I grinned back at him evilly and confusion flickered across his face.
        "Ill just ask Nick," I said, a grin plastered on my face.
        "Fuck Nick, you better not," he said, clearly hurt. I laughed. Nick was my ex boyfriend that had tried to get back with me a couple of days ago and Marshall hated his guts... I always thought maybe because he was such a dick but now I'm not so sure.
        "Well, admit it asshole. I'm fun," I raised an eyebrow. I had my arms crossed as I tapped on my right arm with my index finger.
        "I take back what I said... Bitch," he grumbled at me. I flicked his ear and he pulled on my hair.
        I stood up and stretched as he sat there, his blue eyes staring up at me expectantly. He held out his hand and I grabbed it, trying to pull his ass up off the ground.
        "God damn it Marshall you're too fucking heavy," I grunted.
        He wasn't even putting any effort into standing up and that's when I realized I was practically carrying him. I let my arms fall to my side and he landed back on the ground causing a loud 'thud' to sound throughout my lame excuse of a living room.
        "Bitch," he mumbled. I shoved him once he got up and ran into the bathroom.
        "I think we've already established that. And hurry the hell up, we gotta get this done before my dad gets back. Then we can go paintballin'," I rushed around the room, getting everything ready.
        We walked into the tiny bathroom together and he opened the box.
        I was excited. I mean, I'm dyeing my hair fucking purple! But it wasn't only that, I knew how much my dad hated it when I disobeyed him. So this was a way of saying 'Fuck you, asshole. You can't control me, you don't have that right'. And he didn't, he lost that a long time ago.
        But on the flip side, my dad wasn't one to just be flipped off and disobeyed without dealing out the consequences. Yeah, I didn't give a damn what he thought. But I sure as hell did care when he resorted to different measures of "punishment", in which he decided to take his anger out on me through his fists and whatever lay around at that moment.
        So far, Marshall didn't know this and I was gonna keep it that way. I was still bewildered he didn't, it's been nearly our whole friendship that this has been going on, which is 11 years total.
        If my dad decided to show up whilst Marshall was here, he'd kick my ass for sure. I can only hope and pray the fucker stays out with his whores for the rest of the week. If not, its gonna be a long night.