Melancholia

Strangely Inhuman

My car fucking stunk of cigarettes. I've got to roll down the windows more often..

Here I am, again, watching Imogen chatting with other people. By now she has to know that I'm interested in her.

Not only did I strike up the courage to talk to her, and ultimately got shot down, but she has to feel my gaze on her.

There's a sensation that people get when they know they're being watched.

A typical occurrence is that of a woman eating alone at a diner who suddenly becomes agitated.

Then the hair on the back of her neck raises and she gets the feeling that someone is watching her-someone behind her. She turns and, sure enough, a man is staring directly at her.

I worry for her human reflexes and sensations. She's not up to par. Enough with this foolishness and go somewhere else.

Wow. It was sort of like there was... an entirely other person inside my head. The voice didn't even sound like mine, it was much more deep and...guttural.

It sounded like how a person would sound if they just found their significant other sleeping with another person; mad, enraged actually. Always mad and never calm.

I saw something white and snake-like in my peripheral vision and swiftly jerked my head to the right to see what it was. It was Imogen, well her hair anyways.

My gaze must have drifted down to the ground because it wasn't on her as I had originally assumed.

She had a ponytail, platinum blonde, smooth, always existent. This is what made her unique, as if she could tie all her troubles away with that rubber band, tightly holding her luscious hair.

Her face was formed oh-so perfectly in the Creators factory. She was unspoiled perfection from the moment she was born.

Destined to be someone with her ever changing magic eyes, the eyes that turned green in the sun, but were brown the other times.

The slender body was somewhat delicate. She is always warm, kind of like an aura that blossomed off of her when she was happy. 

She suddenly glanced at me from the corner of her eye, finally feeling my gaze on her, and turned to look fully at me.

Recognition flashed in her eyes and with bent eyebrows she quickly looked at her feet and scurried into the hell-hole building considered a "learning environment."

Unfazed by her fleeting escape, I turned by back to the direction that I was once facing and started walking towards my car when the powerful urge to look behind me pumped through my veins and up to my brain, forcing me to do just that.

 The world seemed to stop as another mind blowingly beautiful girl entered my vision. A girl, who'd been walking towards the building but stopped to admire me as well, who stood with an air of carefree confidence that is most noticeable in her serene blue eyes outlined with a dash of obsidian.

She had a soft face with rounded cheek bones, proportionally slim nose, high trimmed thick eyebrows, soft pouty pink lips, and a rounded chin.

Breathtaking oceans of blue gaze out in playful curiosity as she looked at me briefly, though there was a hint of a wild spark lingering behind those lids.

Jet black hair, groomed and shining brilliantly, which crops her gentle face; the mane glimmers down towards her shoulders where it it ends, with perfectly cut tips.

She's the kind of girl that gay men go straight for. That straight men run into walls staring at her as she walks by. That you have to take an extra breath between sentences while talking to her.