à la folie

“What happened to your arm?” Oliver’s voice. My head felt better, already. We were sat on his lawn, his parents had locked him out and he didn’t want to wait on his own, so he brought me over. The grass was bright green. I couldn’t tell if it was real, it felt real.

But so did a lot of things.

Interested, I bent my head so to look at the bruise on my arm. It was yellow. Not green. I needed to hit it harder, I think. I shrugged in response to Oliver instead of answering, and lent further into him. I hated the way it felt, but it made him stop talking to me. I liked it better when he was talking, but not to me. Just talking. It sounded so nice.

“No really Fleance, you can’t get something like that and not know...” I shrugged again, closing my eyes. The sun made my vision red and while I hated the sun, I was grateful if saved me from the blue abyss of my eyelids.

“Fleance, don’t lie to me” I wasn’t lying. Kind of. I always lie. I’m a liar. But not for Oliver, sometimes. Lying is who I am. I’m lying. Who am I, then? I didn’t reply to him and I could feel his fingers ghost over my calves. He did that a lot. He liked my legs, I think. He always had to touch them, and my waist.

He liked my body, but not me.

That was fine though, I wasn’t anyone. I didn’t want to be anyone; I just wanted to be green. Or dead.

I might like that, I think.

My body jumped slightly in his arms when something hot pressed against my neck, I sat stock still for a moment trying to figure out what is was, till I felt air sweep down my neck. Oliver’s lips. It felt nice, him kissing the back of my neck. It sent heat down my spine, and my nerves seemed to be shivering.

A car.

My eyes flickered open as a blonde haired woman and a brown haired man stepped from a car, looking down with raised eyebrows at Oliver and me. I held their gaze, moving my head to the side slightly to keep the look up. I felt Oliver move behind me and he got to his feet, his hand losing contact with my calf and moving to my hand, to help me up. Slowly, I pulled on his hand to get myself up then turned to the couple who were Oliver’s parents.

“Did you leave your key out again?” asked the blonde haired woman, Oliver mum, while she rummaged in her hand-bag to draw out her own key “Why don’t you just stick it on one of your piercings, they you wouldn’t have to set out here” Oliver laughed and so did his dad, while I stood there wondering what piercings he had, because I couldn’t see any.

But I did see that Oliver’s mum had these big, pretty green eyes the colour of vivid Jade, darker than Lesley’s, and that his dads skin was a olive colour and flawless. I wanted to see through her eyes, to wear his skin.

His mum pushed open the door and waved us in; I followed behind Oliver as he chatted away to his parents. My mind drifted elsewhere almost instantly. His parent’s voices were nothing like his, and it made my ears ache to listen to them. I just wanted Oliver, without his family.

Eventually, he tugged on my hand and motioned to the crème staircase, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips. I blinked at him and stayed rooted to the spot, his smile grew wider and he went first up the stairs, his arm behind him as he still held to my hand.

“Now, this is my room...” My eyes snapped up from my feet and to the surrounding area. Oh. I couldn’t remember climbing the staircase. Oliver’s room was coloured light green, the carpet was aqua blue and his bed-sheets were plain white. I hated the carpet. So much. Oliver towed me towards his bed and sat down on it; I followed his lead and retracted my feet from the burning floor.

“Piercings?” was the first thing that slipped from my mouth, and Oliver smiled once more. He pulled his t-shirt up to his chest and pointed out a small stick of metal through the flesh of his hips. It was shiny silver and reflected a vague colouring of the walls around us, and the rich colour of his skin. His hips were a lot more pronounced than Lesley’s, because he had more curves than Lesley, but Lesley’s bones stuck out, so I guess Oliver had the perfect weight.

I want Oliver’s body. It’s so pretty.

I looked up from his hips, aware that I’d been looking for a while. His face had become... less friendly, he wasn’t smiling. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine, releasing his t-shirt from the grip of his hand and putting that arm around the back of my neck, dragging me closer and digging it into the top of my spine.

His skin burned me, and so did his lips, but the pain felt so nice, like when I dropped a cigarette on myself.

Oliver was like a vice. A pretty green vice with rich skin and a soothing voice, with curves and soft skin. He pushed me further backwards, the skin of his lower stomach pressing against mine while my t-shirt rode up at the contact. The hand holding mine let go and trailed towards the bottom of my t-shirt. I shivered, my skin burned.

He let go, and let himself drift back into his original position. His breathe came choppy and heavy, and I realised I wasn’t breathing, maybe I could just let myself drift off...

Carbon dioxide escaped from my mouth and I pulled fresh air in. The buzzing in my head was spreading and my whole body ached, especially my neck.

“I like your lips”