Scarlet paint

we loved to eat out at bob's diner and blow bubbles through our milkshakes. see who could draw out the longest cheesy strings from our cheeseburgers. she wore waterfall-like bohemian skirts that swished around, barely brushing against her legs which were always in flight. we often went deep into the woods, having picnics while the river ran on hesitatingly, envious of our open palace of strewn wild flowers, sticky peanut butter sandwiches and crumpled paper cups of lemonade. her voice ran faster than the river, each syllable excited and hyper to be heard. she was my greatest friend. our tears ran down the other's face, entangled in hugs and worries and secrets and jokes that were known only to us. 

It all went Wrong when He came.

She whispered to me that He was The One. I was happy for her, like best friends would be, but one look at his heavily inked skin barely covering scars, and his smokey-alcohol-laced-breath uttered with a rough 'hey' froze my smile.

Appearances don't matter, she told me. He's too good for me. I can't believe my luck.

And so, she told me repeatedly that appearance don't matter. Her once free legs were now openly enslaved to tight-fitting dresses barely covering her torso. her grass green eyes were ringed with violent shades of violet - a little accident, she sighed. My silly mistake.

she was always late to our diner lunches, my cheeseburger remained well-mannered with the cheese safely bitten by my stiff jaws. 

she apologized, said she's never been happier, hoped i could understand

and then one night she escaped

to ask me for help

i was ready to protect her from Him and stop this nonsense altogether

i thought she would tell me that it's all over and that she would come back

but after she said her words i cried alone

I'm such a terrible person. a little misunderstanding, she said. please help me explain to him. I've been bad to him, I do try hard but I make mistakes sometimes, see? Just please help me explain to him. He's a bit hard but he really does love me. It's just that I'm... I'm really sorry

and she bawled

and then she stopped and stared at me

and then she stopped talking to me.

Because I told her that he was not good for her.

a month later a person with her name came to me again

Her once fluttery syllables were now laced with cutting remarks stained with curses. 

her honey hair bleached with alcohol and who-knows-what-they-give-out-in-clubs

her eyes once an open book to her soul, were now barred doors with spears tearing my own soul in shreds

i dont know who she is anymore

her wasted body stands in front of me now

shrieking at me to give her all i have in my bank account

her vocal cords are torn and tattered, tearing at my own heart strings

her hands holding a black gun, the mouth is so black and seems to suck me in

the person with her name is standing right in front of me

but where is she?

i dont know where she is

who this horrid ghost of the sweetest friend i had is

i dread to figure out

she's gone

i cry

my

tears

are

mine

alone

on the carpet

soon

followed

by

an

explosion

of

scarlet

..

paint

.