Destroyed by Your Lack of Sympathy
Amber Mariah Reyes, the Royal Bitch.
She was pacing again. Pacing in the dark confines of her small, cramped living room. The dark wood furniture barely stood out in the room, nothing lighting her compulsive pacing except for a computer screen. It had been on for the past three hours and she had been typing nonstop. She was running out of ideas, and fast. “Oh Mary mother-of-fucking-Jesus, come on! I gotta get something, here!”
She ran her fingers through her short, cropped purple and black hair. Her 1940’s style makeup was smudged slightly, her eyesight blearing in the 4 AM smog of eastern Manhattan. An idea came to her and her blood red lips parted into a smile, her white skin glowing in the evanescent glow of the computer. She let the words flow through her delicate, long fingers. She was shivering slightly, a lime green blanket wrapped around her but doing nothing for her small, tired frame. “Come on, the deadline’s tomorrow and I only need 10 more fucking words!”
She hit her head repeatedly on the desk, desperately trying to think up ten more words for the deadline. Her compulsive typing had turned to drumming her fingers as she fished for words to write into the paper. “This story can’t be written like shit…. It didn’t make front page for nothing.”
She stared at the screen, then whispered, “Mother of fucks, I’ve got it.”
A small smirk of cocky satisfaction spread across her pallid face. Her bright red lipstick seemingly gleamed in the ominous glow of the computer. She whispered two words as simple yet venomous as a serpents’ tongue… “Show time.”
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CHAPTER 1 AMBER MARIAH REYES
I smiled and felt a surge of relief and happiness surge through me. The whole entire fucking thing printed, all 725 words to the exact number. Another mind-blowing attempt at a news story by the now famous reporter, Amber Mariah Reyes. Though Amber Mariah Reyes was the star during the day, she was definitely the neurotic, lonely and somewhat crazed yet beautiful disaster at night.
And I know this about myself. I’m the regular fucking Black Mariah. I smirked and placed the papers, newly printed, onto the half-broken, rundown, sad excuse of a coffee table and shivered. Coffee would be good right about now… Coffee and a good Audrey Hepburn movie. I sighed and whispered, “What’s another night out of a thousand? Now out of a million lonely nights? The guys are far too busy for a lowlife journalist like me.”
I shut down the computer and wrapped the blanket tighter around me, flopping down on my stained couch. I looked up at the popcorn ceiling and wondered how coffee stains got up there. Another sleepless night to keep me company. Another night alone. Is this truly what I want? To live in a rundown apartment with no heat the rest of my life? I think not. I sighed and wondered if I could ever follow my true passion… I want to sing. I want to get out of this personal hell I’m in.
Set me free. Set Amber Mariah Reyes free.
She ran her fingers through her short, cropped purple and black hair. Her 1940’s style makeup was smudged slightly, her eyesight blearing in the 4 AM smog of eastern Manhattan. An idea came to her and her blood red lips parted into a smile, her white skin glowing in the evanescent glow of the computer. She let the words flow through her delicate, long fingers. She was shivering slightly, a lime green blanket wrapped around her but doing nothing for her small, tired frame. “Come on, the deadline’s tomorrow and I only need 10 more fucking words!”
She hit her head repeatedly on the desk, desperately trying to think up ten more words for the deadline. Her compulsive typing had turned to drumming her fingers as she fished for words to write into the paper. “This story can’t be written like shit…. It didn’t make front page for nothing.”
She stared at the screen, then whispered, “Mother of fucks, I’ve got it.”
A small smirk of cocky satisfaction spread across her pallid face. Her bright red lipstick seemingly gleamed in the ominous glow of the computer. She whispered two words as simple yet venomous as a serpents’ tongue… “Show time.”
=============================================================
CHAPTER 1 AMBER MARIAH REYES
I smiled and felt a surge of relief and happiness surge through me. The whole entire fucking thing printed, all 725 words to the exact number. Another mind-blowing attempt at a news story by the now famous reporter, Amber Mariah Reyes. Though Amber Mariah Reyes was the star during the day, she was definitely the neurotic, lonely and somewhat crazed yet beautiful disaster at night.
And I know this about myself. I’m the regular fucking Black Mariah. I smirked and placed the papers, newly printed, onto the half-broken, rundown, sad excuse of a coffee table and shivered. Coffee would be good right about now… Coffee and a good Audrey Hepburn movie. I sighed and whispered, “What’s another night out of a thousand? Now out of a million lonely nights? The guys are far too busy for a lowlife journalist like me.”
I shut down the computer and wrapped the blanket tighter around me, flopping down on my stained couch. I looked up at the popcorn ceiling and wondered how coffee stains got up there. Another sleepless night to keep me company. Another night alone. Is this truly what I want? To live in a rundown apartment with no heat the rest of my life? I think not. I sighed and wondered if I could ever follow my true passion… I want to sing. I want to get out of this personal hell I’m in.
Set me free. Set Amber Mariah Reyes free.