Coming to a sudden jolt, the ding of the car hollars. He sits next to me, slouching, eyes locked on his cell phone. He tells me that my shorts are too short he tells me that my hair doesn't look good. I am silenced, thinking where did i go wrong. I grip onto my bag. With the handles digging into my palms, the sun stings my eyes. The flowers on the small bushes bloom with florescent pink and dance in the wind. My mouth widens into a rare, yet relieving smile. The blossom filled air tickles my nose.
But my moment is abruptly interrupted as nicotine stained, toxic curls fill my senses. I peek to my left and see him, lighting a cigarette. I look back at the floor and walk towards a bench in disgust. With the sound of children laughing and yelping, I sit and admire the beauty, despite the demon standing in front of me.
I unzip my bag and take out my sketchbook and pencil, running my fingers against the rough paper. I lock my eyes on a bright flower, mimicking its exact edges on my paper. Suddenly, the ink of his dark heart stains my paper and then my eyes, snapping me out of my gaze. He places his body next to mine, spatting in my ear that I need to get a real job. That art won't pay the bills. I sit in silence, with nothing left but a handful of useless words. Drained of my worth my chest fills to the brim with rage.
I have become so numb, so emotionless, so tired of being stuck at a bottom lower than rock bottom. I quickly pack away my things. Picking up my bag and standing up with a confidence I haven't seen in months. A confidence that has been hidden in a musty, dark tomb. I grab my keys. With the raddle dancing in my ear drums, I faintly hear him yell and ask where i'm going. Heads turn and I slam the car door. I hear the words flow out of his mouth, begging not to leave him. Telling me that he is the best thing that has happened to me. I'm not falling for it this time. With my head spinning and my vision becoming foggy, I press my foot hard on the gas. And with that, I’m gone. I finally win.
But my moment is abruptly interrupted as nicotine stained, toxic curls fill my senses. I peek to my left and see him, lighting a cigarette. I look back at the floor and walk towards a bench in disgust. With the sound of children laughing and yelping, I sit and admire the beauty, despite the demon standing in front of me.
I unzip my bag and take out my sketchbook and pencil, running my fingers against the rough paper. I lock my eyes on a bright flower, mimicking its exact edges on my paper. Suddenly, the ink of his dark heart stains my paper and then my eyes, snapping me out of my gaze. He places his body next to mine, spatting in my ear that I need to get a real job. That art won't pay the bills. I sit in silence, with nothing left but a handful of useless words. Drained of my worth my chest fills to the brim with rage.
I have become so numb, so emotionless, so tired of being stuck at a bottom lower than rock bottom. I quickly pack away my things. Picking up my bag and standing up with a confidence I haven't seen in months. A confidence that has been hidden in a musty, dark tomb. I grab my keys. With the raddle dancing in my ear drums, I faintly hear him yell and ask where i'm going. Heads turn and I slam the car door. I hear the words flow out of his mouth, begging not to leave him. Telling me that he is the best thing that has happened to me. I'm not falling for it this time. With my head spinning and my vision becoming foggy, I press my foot hard on the gas. And with that, I’m gone. I finally win.