Coco Rosell.
Bananas
Coco Rosell was a wolf dressed in sheep clothing. Her snow hair and childish smile, cheekbones that cut the skin of the kids she kissed, created an innocents that glowed brightly around her milky frame. She marked her lips with bright colours that left a rainbow of kiss marks on boy’s bodies, yet kept the skin of her face clean. Beneath the purity of her exterior, Coco was vicious and harsh. She gnawed on the skin of friends just to keep herself alive. She snuck into clubs and gave blowjobs in bathroom stalls to any attractive boy that bought her drinks. Fox Rosell was both innocent on the inside and out. She lay in Coco’s bed on Sunday nights and Coco would whisper her weekend adventures and giggle like a child. Fox wore baggy jumpers to cover up her unsightly and child like build and let her hair fall over her face in hopes to mask her shamefully features. Coco was like a god to Fox, the prettier, more exiting older sister who partied and kissed boy’s and snuck out after midnight.
Fox had been invited to a party to celebrate Coco’s life. The last party she attainted involved eating cupcakes and watching movies late into the night. No alcohol was involved and certainly no boys. Fox set her lips alight with red lipstick like her sister would. She discovered Coco’s secret alcohol stash and took a swig of vodka, it felt like sick down her throat. She had watch Coco swallow vodka and whisky like it was water, taking it to school in her drink bottle, having Bailey’s with her cereal for breakfast.
People were everywhere at the party. Her eyes widened when she entered the wrong door and found a girl with her legs around a boys hips, moaning into his neck. Fox only knew Coco’s friends briefly, passing names in her endless tales and adventures, familiar faces she’d seen sitting in their backyard, smoking weed and giggling about boys. She knew Oliver well. She met him when she was four and he was six and at first she thought he was a girl. They, Oliver, Coco and Fox, had bathed naked and snuggled into the same single bed.
He sat alone in the garden on the grass. Rain fell heavily as everyone huddled inside.
“Hi, Ollie” she muttered
He looked up at her, licking his lips.
She sat down beside him. They didn’t talk for a while, but it was nice.
Coco giggled beside them, but no one heard her.
Ollie’s fingers scratched at Fox’s skin, her skirt high above her thigh. Ollie missed Coco, he wouldn’t admit it but since she’d passed he’d been much quieter. His fingers nibbled at Fox’s flesh, creeping beneath her underwear. Fox’s eyes bulged, a squeal caught in her throat. No one’s fingers had ever been up there before. But it felt good, sinful. Surely Coco would be proud; she’d always urged Fox to lose it. Not with Ollie though, she wondered how upset and angry Coco would be, she wondered if she was watching from heaven. Or hell, Fox didn’t where Coco ended up after her death. She whimpered when she felt him inside her. Coco had said it hurt, she said she cried her first time. Fox didn’t feel any of that, just sweet moans and groans and sweat.
Fox had been invited to a party to celebrate Coco’s life. The last party she attainted involved eating cupcakes and watching movies late into the night. No alcohol was involved and certainly no boys. Fox set her lips alight with red lipstick like her sister would. She discovered Coco’s secret alcohol stash and took a swig of vodka, it felt like sick down her throat. She had watch Coco swallow vodka and whisky like it was water, taking it to school in her drink bottle, having Bailey’s with her cereal for breakfast.
People were everywhere at the party. Her eyes widened when she entered the wrong door and found a girl with her legs around a boys hips, moaning into his neck. Fox only knew Coco’s friends briefly, passing names in her endless tales and adventures, familiar faces she’d seen sitting in their backyard, smoking weed and giggling about boys. She knew Oliver well. She met him when she was four and he was six and at first she thought he was a girl. They, Oliver, Coco and Fox, had bathed naked and snuggled into the same single bed.
He sat alone in the garden on the grass. Rain fell heavily as everyone huddled inside.
“Hi, Ollie” she muttered
He looked up at her, licking his lips.
She sat down beside him. They didn’t talk for a while, but it was nice.
Coco giggled beside them, but no one heard her.
Ollie’s fingers scratched at Fox’s skin, her skirt high above her thigh. Ollie missed Coco, he wouldn’t admit it but since she’d passed he’d been much quieter. His fingers nibbled at Fox’s flesh, creeping beneath her underwear. Fox’s eyes bulged, a squeal caught in her throat. No one’s fingers had ever been up there before. But it felt good, sinful. Surely Coco would be proud; she’d always urged Fox to lose it. Not with Ollie though, she wondered how upset and angry Coco would be, she wondered if she was watching from heaven. Or hell, Fox didn’t where Coco ended up after her death. She whimpered when she felt him inside her. Coco had said it hurt, she said she cried her first time. Fox didn’t feel any of that, just sweet moans and groans and sweat.