Candy, Should Be Jackie
1/1
The whispers follow her, no matter where she goes. This is starting to get old. Feet planted on the concrete, as she stands there looking for work. If you ask her for her name, she’ll tell you it’s Candy, but she remembers the days it used to be Jackie, before she was on the streets. She hides in an alley as a car goes by flashing its blue and white, the word ‘sheriff’ on the door causing her to shake in fear. The cops aren’t there for the calling anymore. They take you away and lock you up, making all the work you’ve done to achieve your dreams worth nothing.
Nothing seems worth the effort it takes. Sometimes she combs her hair, sometimes she doesn’t, she doesn’t feel like she has anyone to look good for. She's wishing she could cover up as she endures the biting night air. But she can't. The job won't allow for it.
Daytimes she curls up in her hole filled arm-chair, trying to remember what got her here. All she gets is a flurry of time blurred faces, half-forgotten names, and dreams of things that she’s almost positive never happened. Maybe she’ll go down to the library, use the computer, work on getting her wings so she can reach her dreams as she works on her online degree. Wishing to yet again be able to tell people she’s Jackie.
Feeling horrible standing on another girl’s corner. It’s only been a night since she was the one here. Now something tells Candy that it doesn’t matter, the bloodstain on the pavement agrees with her. Jackie, or is it just Candy now? Well she doesn’t care, just wishes she wasn’t there. She’s waiting for the moment, the one that’ll take her away from here. ‘Anywhere but this stop sign.’ Jackie, almost certain it isn’t Candy, whispers in her mind. Candy, it should be Jackie, wishes she doesn’t care, as she just keeps on standing there. ‘Just wait for something better.’ She whispers in her head. ‘Just wait for something better. I’ll get away from here.’
Nothing seems worth the effort it takes. Sometimes she combs her hair, sometimes she doesn’t, she doesn’t feel like she has anyone to look good for. She's wishing she could cover up as she endures the biting night air. But she can't. The job won't allow for it.
Daytimes she curls up in her hole filled arm-chair, trying to remember what got her here. All she gets is a flurry of time blurred faces, half-forgotten names, and dreams of things that she’s almost positive never happened. Maybe she’ll go down to the library, use the computer, work on getting her wings so she can reach her dreams as she works on her online degree. Wishing to yet again be able to tell people she’s Jackie.
Feeling horrible standing on another girl’s corner. It’s only been a night since she was the one here. Now something tells Candy that it doesn’t matter, the bloodstain on the pavement agrees with her. Jackie, or is it just Candy now? Well she doesn’t care, just wishes she wasn’t there. She’s waiting for the moment, the one that’ll take her away from here. ‘Anywhere but this stop sign.’ Jackie, almost certain it isn’t Candy, whispers in her mind. Candy, it should be Jackie, wishes she doesn’t care, as she just keeps on standing there. ‘Just wait for something better.’ She whispers in her head. ‘Just wait for something better. I’ll get away from here.’