Sobriquet

Her name was Minette Harrison.

Or Minnie.

She was nineteen with outrageously messy, long, golden hair, mossy, large blue eyes, pale, baby skin, cherry lips, barely five feet in height, body merely covered by a loose grey sweater that skid off her shoulders. The sleeves were too long for her, covering majority of her long fingers, showing the tips of bitten nails. Around her neck hung a long golden chain which held together a flower made of gold. Her legs were long, bruises and cuts all over, just as the bottom of her feet were painful to even look at.

Her smile was cute, a bit of her gums showing each time she laughed. Her neck was flawless, even when scars covered the neck line, scars that looked too recent. She smelled fresh, like a gentle breeze blowing from the North.

She was very timid at the same time as honest and animated. When she got embarrassed she would cover her face with her hands, shaking her head and smiling. She had a beautiful voice, as powerful as it could get when she pushed herself. When she spaced out she would let her head cock to the side, a sleepy look overflowing her face.

I loved how she called out my name, how she got angry at me for “wasting my life with her”, how her eyes would grow sad each time I told her I had to get home or my parents would start to worry. How she would grab onto the back of my t-shirt each time I was about to leave, how she looked up at me through long eyelashes when she felt upset, how she would lick her lips before she spoke.

It was amazing how rapidly I fell in love with her.

Even though she didn’t exist.

☁☁☁

It was very cold; too cold to even step into the white sand and walk into the deep blue ocean of the coast. Grey crabs were careful, letting themselves float and hide in between both, as well as many other small fishes that I could barely see. The cold water hit my bare feet, as my pants succumbed to the frozen feeling, sticking to my legs. I didn’t bother.

Going home was like entering an old 1950s portrait, with the family happily smiling around a turkey. No one was angry, no one was upset, and no one got into a fight. No troubles. The portrait was so content it was horribly empty. Mom would be home, awaiting for dad to get home from work right next to a lovely dinner table, decorated with plates, forks, spoons, knifes, and of course a grand dinner to fill up the hungry stomach of the man.

He would arrive, fingers laced around the handle of a black leather suitcase, coat draped over his strong arm, and an immediate smile as soon as he saw my mother. She would go over towards him, kiss him lightly on the lips, grab his coat and drape it over the coat rack making sure it was perfectly set. He would greet me, a gentle but firm squeeze on my shoulder, a cold smile placed on his lips each time he looked at me and muttered, “Hey kiddo.”

Mom would lead him towards the dinner table where food was all set, as he would pull the chair out for her to sit, a small thank you coming from her part. He would sit down and then I would sit right after as my mom served my father first, then me, then her at the end.

“Huh… It’s like a really shitty soap opera.” I muttered to myself, reaching down and picking up a soft shell and throwing it against the water as far as I could. “Dammit…”

“You’re pretty.”

I snapped my head towards the left side of the beach, my green eyes blinking a couple of times at the girl who stood in the middle of winter with only a loose sweater on. Her hair was all over, a couple of strands blown on her face as she pressed the tips of her fingers against her face, cocking her head. “Excuse me?”

“You’re pretty.” She smiled lightly, tapping her fingers against her lips.

“Thank… you?” I raised an eyebrow. I had been called handsome before. But pretty reached a whole new level…

She didn’t answer, turning to her side to face the ocean and bending down to get a pink shell. She looked at me and raised her arm, throwing the shell further than I threw mine. I smirked, picking up a handle of shells and throwing one further than the one she threw, making her pout and pick some up herself. She threw them hard as I followed, each of us never speaking.

I stopped by the 40th pebble.

She turned towards me, her eyes connecting with mine. “You make me feel sad.”

“What do you mean?” I scratched the back of my head, walking away from the water and sitting down on the sand where the cold wouldn’t hit me. She sat down next to me, wrapping her arms around her knees and resting her head on top as she kept her eyes connected to mine.

“It’s easy to tell you’re mad about something or at least that something is in your mind. You’re frowning and you can’t even tell.” She closed her eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m a stranger… Stranger danger right?”

I grinned, scoffing. “I’m Liam… now that you know my name I guess we aren’t strangers anymore right?”

“Liam…” She bit her bottom lip the tips curling upwards. “I won’t tell you mine. Unless you guess what it is that is. It‘s very easy. My name comes out a lot.”

I groaned. “You want me to guess yours? Out of millions of names?”

“Yup.” She raised up her arms, stretching, then looked at me and winked. “I’ll give you a clue though.”

“Shoot.”

“Mm…” She cupped her hands over her ears. “I have large ears because I am a mouse.”

“… You’re serious?” I started laughing.

She brought her hands over her face, laughing. “Don’t make me do it again! Yes I’m serious!”

“Uh… so you’re a mouse. And you’re a girl. Are you a character from some Disney Channel show?” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Yes.” She licked her lips.

“Uh…can you do the ear thing again?”

She pouted, shoving me a little. “Funny guy.”

I smiled. “Minnie Mouse maybe?”

“That was quick. It’s Minette or Minnie.”

“Minnie, huh?” I looked towards the waves as they crashed against the rocks. “Minnie…”

“Yeah?” She looked at me through her thick eyelashes. “What’s wrong, Liam?”

“Everything.”

☁☁☁