Sequel: Painting Virgin Skin ›
Status: Super Mushy X3
Cracks in Reality
Already Home-Sick
I allowed my body to slide down the empty walls of my new room. No pictures, no posters, no memories, just a new strange place. I stared at huge four post bed draped in a sheer red curtain to create its canopy. I guess they thought it was cute since it matched pieces of my hair. I was one of those girls with natural highlights and a deep ruby red hair color. I was convinced that my two scientist parents messed with my D.N.A to give me this hair color. I mean who finds this stuff in nature? Okay so I am being a bit dramatic but this is a huge change for me. I went from abandoned science project to noble prize in the eyes of my parents in the span of 16 years. Two years before being shoved onto the streets by the system and forced to find a way on my own. I guess they saved me in that sense but let’s face it; I would have never been there if they didn't put me there in the first place.
I sprawled out on the plush carpet, letting my body sink deeper into its welcomed embrace. I am sure Dixie was thrilled in her new room, with its included new wardrobe. Not the least bit overwhelmed like I am. I knew that our unlikely friendship will most likely meet its end here in Texas. We were bonded together because neither of us fit in at our group home. She was too pop princess and I was too rock n’ roll. I bit into my lip piercing, off center labret, Dixie and I had sneak out from the group home, for me to get that piercing done. I was only 13 when I did it. Some dude who did tattoos from his basement did it for me. He used to be in our group home, that's how we found out about him. Anyway Dixie would fit in perfectly here, she was meant for big ole' Texas. I was meant for grubby, grimy New York.
That tattoo dude, I was one of his first customer and one of his most frequent. He also did my ears, rook, and anti-eyebrow, smiley, and belly ring. He did a small heart tattoo behind my right ear, and the chemical sign for Rubidium, my birth name, on the back of my neck. (Thank goodness they are both easily cover by my hair.) Before I left he did my uv tattoo on my wrist, sealed with a dermal piercing. With four simple words I heart New York, dermal in the center of the heart. The purple and red ink of my tat is invisible to the parental eyes, which made it a win for me, unless of course they turn off the lights. Plus dude did it on the house, I was his best customer. So it was like a going away gift. Best gift ever if you ask me. I told him to come see me if he ever visits Texas and gave him my address.
That guy was the closest thing I had to best friend, who understands my tastes, that is. Since technologically Dixie is my best friend. I was already missing Nicky, so I decided to shoot him a text. I pull my phone out of the pocket of my black skinny jeans and scroll to his number. I knew he would reply, Nicky told me I was the only person he could trust. Plus he lived with his phone in his hand.
‘Sup Loser?’ I sent.
‘Lol dude you miss me already?’ He replied like five seconds later.
‘Don’t let it get to your head.’
‘Hey its cool dude. I miss you too. I am already looking at prices to go to Texas so I will see you soon Rubz. Anyway I got a customer so I will get to you later. XP’
‘Okay.’
I knew if it hadn't been for James I would be head over heels for Nicky. Just remembering his olive tone skin and facial stubble made me wonder why I let James get in the way. His choppy black hair coupled with his close set midnight eyes and his prominent jaw line. The way his full pink lips curled up in a mischievous grin every time he smiled. That boy was always starting trouble. Sneaking me into concerts, into rated r movies, pulling pranks on the kids in my school. So what he is three years older than me, that didn't matter. All that matter was James, my polar opposite in every way, who happens to only live in my dreams.
James Clark is a six foot tall country boy. I am talking plaid button down shirt, faded blue Levi jeans over cowboy boots and a permanent guitar in his hands, country. He had ruffled dirty blonde hair and sun kissed skin from working on his grandma’s farm on the weekends. His chocolate brown eyes, encased in thick lashes, the shape of two almonds. His oval shaped pink lips always in a kind smile. His strong arms that have wrapped around me every dream I have had since I was three. Well they weren't strong then; they were just scrawny kids arms then.
James and I have grown up together in my dreams. His memories were always growing, his looks always evolving. He always had his own stories to share with me. He has always been a year older than me and never been in my control. I guess that’s why he has always felt so real to me, because I never got any of the things I wanted him to say out of his mouth. When I wanted him to go left, he would go right. When I want him to stay still, he would want to be moving. We even argued! Who argues with their dream guy? I mean shouldn't he be perfect in every sense. Anyway, in a very sad and sick way, I was in love with him. I guess that’s why I never bothered with a real boy. Yes, sir I have some serious issues.
I sometimes would wish so badly that James would be real because he knew me so well. Sometimes
I wonder if he knows me better then I know myself. I mean I told him everything there is to know about me, he knew all my facial cues, he has seen all my tears. He was everything. Even though we are so different we work so well. But of course we would because he is a dream, just a dream. When will I get that through my head?
I sprawled out on the plush carpet, letting my body sink deeper into its welcomed embrace. I am sure Dixie was thrilled in her new room, with its included new wardrobe. Not the least bit overwhelmed like I am. I knew that our unlikely friendship will most likely meet its end here in Texas. We were bonded together because neither of us fit in at our group home. She was too pop princess and I was too rock n’ roll. I bit into my lip piercing, off center labret, Dixie and I had sneak out from the group home, for me to get that piercing done. I was only 13 when I did it. Some dude who did tattoos from his basement did it for me. He used to be in our group home, that's how we found out about him. Anyway Dixie would fit in perfectly here, she was meant for big ole' Texas. I was meant for grubby, grimy New York.
That tattoo dude, I was one of his first customer and one of his most frequent. He also did my ears, rook, and anti-eyebrow, smiley, and belly ring. He did a small heart tattoo behind my right ear, and the chemical sign for Rubidium, my birth name, on the back of my neck. (Thank goodness they are both easily cover by my hair.) Before I left he did my uv tattoo on my wrist, sealed with a dermal piercing. With four simple words I heart New York, dermal in the center of the heart. The purple and red ink of my tat is invisible to the parental eyes, which made it a win for me, unless of course they turn off the lights. Plus dude did it on the house, I was his best customer. So it was like a going away gift. Best gift ever if you ask me. I told him to come see me if he ever visits Texas and gave him my address.
That guy was the closest thing I had to best friend, who understands my tastes, that is. Since technologically Dixie is my best friend. I was already missing Nicky, so I decided to shoot him a text. I pull my phone out of the pocket of my black skinny jeans and scroll to his number. I knew he would reply, Nicky told me I was the only person he could trust. Plus he lived with his phone in his hand.
‘Sup Loser?’ I sent.
‘Lol dude you miss me already?’ He replied like five seconds later.
‘Don’t let it get to your head.’
‘Hey its cool dude. I miss you too. I am already looking at prices to go to Texas so I will see you soon Rubz. Anyway I got a customer so I will get to you later. XP’
‘Okay.’
I knew if it hadn't been for James I would be head over heels for Nicky. Just remembering his olive tone skin and facial stubble made me wonder why I let James get in the way. His choppy black hair coupled with his close set midnight eyes and his prominent jaw line. The way his full pink lips curled up in a mischievous grin every time he smiled. That boy was always starting trouble. Sneaking me into concerts, into rated r movies, pulling pranks on the kids in my school. So what he is three years older than me, that didn't matter. All that matter was James, my polar opposite in every way, who happens to only live in my dreams.
James Clark is a six foot tall country boy. I am talking plaid button down shirt, faded blue Levi jeans over cowboy boots and a permanent guitar in his hands, country. He had ruffled dirty blonde hair and sun kissed skin from working on his grandma’s farm on the weekends. His chocolate brown eyes, encased in thick lashes, the shape of two almonds. His oval shaped pink lips always in a kind smile. His strong arms that have wrapped around me every dream I have had since I was three. Well they weren't strong then; they were just scrawny kids arms then.
James and I have grown up together in my dreams. His memories were always growing, his looks always evolving. He always had his own stories to share with me. He has always been a year older than me and never been in my control. I guess that’s why he has always felt so real to me, because I never got any of the things I wanted him to say out of his mouth. When I wanted him to go left, he would go right. When I want him to stay still, he would want to be moving. We even argued! Who argues with their dream guy? I mean shouldn't he be perfect in every sense. Anyway, in a very sad and sick way, I was in love with him. I guess that’s why I never bothered with a real boy. Yes, sir I have some serious issues.
I sometimes would wish so badly that James would be real because he knew me so well. Sometimes
I wonder if he knows me better then I know myself. I mean I told him everything there is to know about me, he knew all my facial cues, he has seen all my tears. He was everything. Even though we are so different we work so well. But of course we would because he is a dream, just a dream. When will I get that through my head?