Smother

I wake up at 5 in the morning to the front door slamming. I sit up, rubbing my bare arm and getting up. I walk into the living room, rubbing my hands together creating heat, because it’s chilly. The lamp is on, dim orangish light covering the room. On the floor I see her favorite brown moccasins kicked off by the lamp. Her white stretched out shirt with the heart cut out in the back is tossed on the floor. I look over near the couch to see Leana on the floor, her feet propped up on the couch and the rest of her on the floor. Pastel blue and green hair on the floor, leading to a pale freckled face, closed eyes with black crap smeared and blue painted lips, slightly agape.

I walk over to Leana and crouch down next to her, she’s only in a thin white bra and a short black skirt. I sigh and her eyes flutter open, she smiles when she sees me.

“Hey baby,” she says, still smiling up at me sleepily.

I can smell the liquor on her breath.

“Where’ve you been?” I ask quietly.

She reaches up to me, wrapping her cold hands around my neck, running her hands up to my messy brown hair, combing through it.

“Don’t worry about it.”

I miss the touch of her small hands whenever she’s not touching me, whenever she’s not here, I miss her.

She pulls me down close to her and kisses me sloppily on the lips. I kiss her back, but then I pull back, removing her arms from around me.

Her lip puckers out, “why are you mad at me?”

She looks as if she’s going to cry. I sigh, I want to scream in her face and tell her about all the shit she’s put me through, I want to shake her and make her understand, I want her to know about the anger I feel for her, but I just shake my head, looking away from her.

“I’m not,” I stand up straight and comb my fingers through my hair.