By: Brendan C.
It was late; not so late you cant keep your eyes open, but late. There I was, leaning against a brick wall in a small ally way. The brick felt rough, it was worn and broken from standing tall and proud for many years. I tapped my boot on the concrete slab I was standing on contemplating what to do. “The night is young.” I said, thinking out loud to my self. I reached in my torn and faded leather jacked searching for my one joy in life, death. I opened the flip top and pulled out the carcinogenic joy I had learned to love. Striking a match on the wall behind me I took a long drag watching the bright ember burn at the end of my life shorting addiction. I felt better for the moment knowing that in seconds id be back to square one.
“Would you mind if I took a drag?” I heard a voice behind me say. When I turned around I was surprised, standing at 5’4” in all black was an angel. Her dark jet-black hair framed her beautiful paper white face; her black clothing hugged her curvy figure tightly. She then cracked a small smile, almost driving me mad with those beautiful deep red lips. As I handed her my cigarette witch I coveted oh so much, she watched me intently. Never did her eyes leave my only true joy in life until it was in her hand. I felt almost robbed until I made eye contact with her, such deep piercing eyes. She had this air about her that I could never explain. Never in my life had I ever met anyone like this.
“Thank you.” She said as she handed the cigarette back to me, as our hands brushed it felt like I had gone weak in the knees. I looked at the ground hoping she wouldn’t notice, kicking my heal against the wall.
“What’s your name?” she asked, almost like she was demanding I tell her. I liked it, I liked the fact she had done that.
“Rusty.” I responded, making a mocking face at the name that was placed upon me by my friends. My hair was a rust color and hung past my jaw, on a good day I could keep it out of my face.
“She looked at me and said, “Well Rusty, my name is…” and paused like she was contemplating what she wanted me to call her. She could give me any name she thought of and I would probably never see her again, raising an eyebrow she continued, “Raven.”
I pondered the name; not the fact it wasn’t her true name, but why she gave me that name. Smiling she took a step closer to me, lifting one of her hands to my face she brushed the hair out of my eyes and winked.
At this point in time I had the strange urge to try to kiss her but being able to act on the fact was completely different. I took another drag of my cigarette. I rolled her name around in my mind over and over again as I blew the smoke out of my lungs. “Raven” I thought to my self. If I didn’t know any better I would say she could read my mind because before I knew it this beautiful seductress had wrapped her arms around me, pulling her self up to stand on her tip-toes and kissed me.
Everything slowed down, all I could focus on was how it felt to have this girl, this Lolita idol kiss me. Never had anything ever been so unexpected, so surprising, so earth shattering. I kissed her back, wrapping my arms around her. Her small frame pressing against my body felt like I was hugging a china doll. The delicate feel of her body next to mine was the most incredible feeling I have ever had. I never wanted to let go of her, never let the feeling pass. When she broke the kiss she smiled at me knowing how she had blown my mind with one simple action.
“Your cute, you know that?” She asked me. All I could do to respond was shake my head “no.” She laughed at my pure infatuation. Flicking the ash of my cigarette I took another drag trying to pull my self together, looking at the distance of the ember from my fingers I threw the cigarette down the ally as I discard another moment of my life.
She smiled at me and as she stepped back she turned around and walked away, not saying another word. I wanted to follow her and maybe I should have but I didn’t. I sit here in my apartment looking at the ceiling wondering to my self why I didn’t follow her. Five minutes of pure bliss disrupted by the loss of everything I had ever looked for.
The CD player switched to the next song and I started to sing the words
“All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow”
I lost my heart because I didn’t follow it. I didn’t pay attention to the voice in my head; I didn’t sum up the courage to do something I would never do. I see her in my head so perfectly, how it felt to hold her engrained into my body. Love is a cruel mistress and sometimes she beats me.