Status: Being Written.
Pretty Little Thing.
Coffee And Cigarettes
The small girl left her apartment at dawn to walk to a café a few blocks away. Food was weighing heavy on her mind and she left in a hunger-induced fog. She dragged her sweat-pant draped legs to the sound of morning rush hour as New York’s sky faithfully dampened the air. The wet atmosphere made her shiver and curse herself for ever leaving the house. Maybe this was a mistake.
Despite her constant doubts she trudged on, New York’s air twisting her stomach into smaller knots and making the sour taste of acid fill her throat and mouth. This was the exact reason she often walked around with a pinched expression and a voice that stung. She wasn’t as perfect as she appeared, no, she was far from perfect.
She was a monster, a pretty, pretty little monster.
She finally reached the small café, although not quite soon enough, and sat silently in a booth.
Bile hung heavy on her breath as a small, older woman named Donna, took her order. The women wore a bright smile and chunky white shoes. She was plump and cheery with enough chins to feed the whole restaurant and thick veins coursing up her legs. Ignorance sure was bliss.
“What a pretty little thing,” Donna whispered to the other waitress on her shift as she took the girl’s order to the kitchen. She was amazed at the amount of food the girl had ordered, especially in relation to her small stature. Donna could tell something was terribly wrong in the way the girl sat, and in the way her eyes scanned the room too many times. Donna watched from behind the counter and did her best to understand. But no one ever understood, no one ever knew the whole story.
A long thirty minutes later the waitress brought the many dishes to her booth. She had ordered almost every breakfast meal on the sticky menu, but before she could dig in and enjoy she heard a sharp tsk, tsk, tsking from across the table. The girl gasped as she noticed the tall beauty sitting across from her, she was so quiet and still she had forgotten she was there this whole time.
“Do you know what that’ll do to you?” the beauty asked.
The small girl only bobbed her head in reply.
“That syrup will rot your teeth, and those pancakes will go straight to your thighs. Not to mention all the bubbling fat you’ve already got. You can’t eat that.”
The truth was, she could, and even after it all she’d probably still be hungry. She felt like a bottomless pit; she had crossed the line between hunger and starvation and her stomach just wasn’t accepting it anymore. She was so empty she feared a slight rumble from her abdomen would send an avalanche through her and crumble her ribs. She tucked herself into a ball in an attempt to quiet the demon inside of her.
The girl slowly and regretfully pushed the plates away and choked down a cup of coffee, black. She sat in silence and watched the bustle that once filled the diner come to a screeching halt as most everyone headed into work. She herself would be heading into school in a matter of hours.
As the diner stilled and emptied out she slowly sank into her seat and ordered another coffee, something had to keep her awake, after all. Since these days she barely had enough strength to open her eyelids every second or so. Everything took a bit more work now; every muscle movement and breath was a slow, thought-out process.
These days the girl did everything in her power to shrink away from opposing eyes; she hid herself in baggy, misshapen clothes and buried herself under her tangles of hair. She sank low in every seat and talked in a dull hush.
However, no matter how hard the girl tried to be invisible; no matter how low she sank in her seat, the boy’s eyes still found her small frame, and they couldn’t look away.
She was a pretty little thing; a pretty, pretty little thing.
She stood at a petite five foot one inch and carried herself with a natural grace. The sun had bleached her hair and her cheeks were always a pale pink.
Needless to say, he fell in love with her the first time her saw her, but at the time, at that diner, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.
How was he to tell that, that pretty little thing was carrying such a big burden? How was he to know?
Despite her constant doubts she trudged on, New York’s air twisting her stomach into smaller knots and making the sour taste of acid fill her throat and mouth. This was the exact reason she often walked around with a pinched expression and a voice that stung. She wasn’t as perfect as she appeared, no, she was far from perfect.
She was a monster, a pretty, pretty little monster.
She finally reached the small café, although not quite soon enough, and sat silently in a booth.
Bile hung heavy on her breath as a small, older woman named Donna, took her order. The women wore a bright smile and chunky white shoes. She was plump and cheery with enough chins to feed the whole restaurant and thick veins coursing up her legs. Ignorance sure was bliss.
“What a pretty little thing,” Donna whispered to the other waitress on her shift as she took the girl’s order to the kitchen. She was amazed at the amount of food the girl had ordered, especially in relation to her small stature. Donna could tell something was terribly wrong in the way the girl sat, and in the way her eyes scanned the room too many times. Donna watched from behind the counter and did her best to understand. But no one ever understood, no one ever knew the whole story.
A long thirty minutes later the waitress brought the many dishes to her booth. She had ordered almost every breakfast meal on the sticky menu, but before she could dig in and enjoy she heard a sharp tsk, tsk, tsking from across the table. The girl gasped as she noticed the tall beauty sitting across from her, she was so quiet and still she had forgotten she was there this whole time.
“Do you know what that’ll do to you?” the beauty asked.
The small girl only bobbed her head in reply.
“That syrup will rot your teeth, and those pancakes will go straight to your thighs. Not to mention all the bubbling fat you’ve already got. You can’t eat that.”
The truth was, she could, and even after it all she’d probably still be hungry. She felt like a bottomless pit; she had crossed the line between hunger and starvation and her stomach just wasn’t accepting it anymore. She was so empty she feared a slight rumble from her abdomen would send an avalanche through her and crumble her ribs. She tucked herself into a ball in an attempt to quiet the demon inside of her.
The girl slowly and regretfully pushed the plates away and choked down a cup of coffee, black. She sat in silence and watched the bustle that once filled the diner come to a screeching halt as most everyone headed into work. She herself would be heading into school in a matter of hours.
As the diner stilled and emptied out she slowly sank into her seat and ordered another coffee, something had to keep her awake, after all. Since these days she barely had enough strength to open her eyelids every second or so. Everything took a bit more work now; every muscle movement and breath was a slow, thought-out process.
These days the girl did everything in her power to shrink away from opposing eyes; she hid herself in baggy, misshapen clothes and buried herself under her tangles of hair. She sank low in every seat and talked in a dull hush.
However, no matter how hard the girl tried to be invisible; no matter how low she sank in her seat, the boy’s eyes still found her small frame, and they couldn’t look away.
She was a pretty little thing; a pretty, pretty little thing.
She stood at a petite five foot one inch and carried herself with a natural grace. The sun had bleached her hair and her cheeks were always a pale pink.
Needless to say, he fell in love with her the first time her saw her, but at the time, at that diner, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.
How was he to tell that, that pretty little thing was carrying such a big burden? How was he to know?
♠ ♠ ♠
A new story. A fresh smelling lovely new story.Would you like to go along with the ride?