Sequel: Stardust ›
Status: We'll see, kids.
Kelly Lawrence
because today;
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A scraggly, law drenched and morals lost woman looked up from behind a green backed book – faint lines of gold lost in shadows of a weak sun and low hanging white blinds. She cast a wrinkled eye over the silent class room, a search for unbent heads and raised pencils – perhaps a sleepy smile or a building frown.
“Kelly.” My pencil paused millimetres from the scratched surface of an over-used desk, eyes swopping to meet the stern lipped disapproval of old. Kelly Kelly Kelly. Wouldn’t that be such a pretty song sung by painted people with knowing smiles. Someone should write me a song, like moonlight water and gravity forsaken lilies.
“Stand outside.” And okay, I could do that. My body swayed heavily from the chair, pencil slipping into a black stitched pocket while narrow built shoes slipped me between desks and strained eyes – the heavy weight of aged sight resting on my shoulders. Getting rejected from detention, that was a new one. I shot a smirk at a terrified looking puppy dog boy to be promptly met by a taunt skin blush and a head burrowed into scruffily written notes as he tried to pretend he hadn’t been looking.
Don’t be scared.
And the door slammed shut. I derived some amusement from the twitch of surprise I knew would be running through everyone in the class room, the sound alike to a bullet in the deafening silence. Should have done their homework, laziness will get them nowhere. Life’s hard and schools harder and the drugs are harder still but that’s okay because their dealer is always going to catch them while their boss and their teacher run to the law.It’s okay, I got you, take some more – it’ll make you feel better. And then they’d trip over the edge in stupid smiles and soft touches but that’s better than a cold knowledge and bright white lights like artificial happiness. Tripping has always been better than stepping.
They could be happy.
A sigh escaped my lips, instantly becoming forgotten in the cooling air of coming winter. My neck clicked like falling coins as I stretched backwards, draping my body backwards onto a yellowy wall and revelling in the un-cramped space of empty school corridors. Desks twenty or so years out of date were not appropriate for longer limbs and bigger waists as the new generation suggested. They hardly seemed acceptable for old crows like the one who was no doubt damning me in the room beyond, let alone gangly boys and sugar-coated girls.
The creak of a door, the falling of dying breathes.
“You can’t carry on like this.”
Tap
Tap
A scraggly, law drenched and morals lost woman looked up from behind a green backed book – faint lines of gold lost in shadows of a weak sun and low hanging white blinds. She cast a wrinkled eye over the silent class room, a search for unbent heads and raised pencils – perhaps a sleepy smile or a building frown.
“Kelly.” My pencil paused millimetres from the scratched surface of an over-used desk, eyes swopping to meet the stern lipped disapproval of old. Kelly Kelly Kelly. Wouldn’t that be such a pretty song sung by painted people with knowing smiles. Someone should write me a song, like moonlight water and gravity forsaken lilies.
“Stand outside.” And okay, I could do that. My body swayed heavily from the chair, pencil slipping into a black stitched pocket while narrow built shoes slipped me between desks and strained eyes – the heavy weight of aged sight resting on my shoulders. Getting rejected from detention, that was a new one. I shot a smirk at a terrified looking puppy dog boy to be promptly met by a taunt skin blush and a head burrowed into scruffily written notes as he tried to pretend he hadn’t been looking.
Don’t be scared.
And the door slammed shut. I derived some amusement from the twitch of surprise I knew would be running through everyone in the class room, the sound alike to a bullet in the deafening silence. Should have done their homework, laziness will get them nowhere. Life’s hard and schools harder and the drugs are harder still but that’s okay because their dealer is always going to catch them while their boss and their teacher run to the law.It’s okay, I got you, take some more – it’ll make you feel better. And then they’d trip over the edge in stupid smiles and soft touches but that’s better than a cold knowledge and bright white lights like artificial happiness. Tripping has always been better than stepping.
They could be happy.
A sigh escaped my lips, instantly becoming forgotten in the cooling air of coming winter. My neck clicked like falling coins as I stretched backwards, draping my body backwards onto a yellowy wall and revelling in the un-cramped space of empty school corridors. Desks twenty or so years out of date were not appropriate for longer limbs and bigger waists as the new generation suggested. They hardly seemed acceptable for old crows like the one who was no doubt damning me in the room beyond, let alone gangly boys and sugar-coated girls.
The creak of a door, the falling of dying breathes.
“You can’t carry on like this.”
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Thank you everyone, you're lovely<3