About a girl and a boy
by Miki Korhonen
So I tried to write another story in one sitting. I tried to go for an anonymous look into the lives of two people. About loss and decadence, insanity and aftermath. I tried to go for a gothic feel, but I don’t know if I managed to give it that.
Please feel free to give me criticism in the comment section below.
That girl was stylish and beautiful, but that’s all that she had. In truth she was dying slowly –the natural way. Her body had been oxidizing for the past twenty something years. She saw her own life as a huge mess, even though she had it all –the looks, the friends, and talent to mosey through.
She had given up the whole loving game after she found out that her last boyfriend had been a cheat and a liar. He left somewhere abroad with the fastest boat that could be found. He left her stumped.
She always had to take a while to clear her head every morning. She had to cut the dragon’s head off every morning, the killer hang over and stench of old perfume. She was surprised how she could have let someone drag her through the mud leaving her like this. She thought it could happen to anyone. It all comes down to that small push that drives a person over the edge and then it’s just a long ass ride.
She was never alone. She had her friends and strings of cute handsome boys to carry her over the storms. She took life as a long holiday at a cheap resort full of liquor and adventure. Looking in from the outside no one knew where she got the money. Was she a whore? Or had she mastered the art of wrenching anyone’s wallet open, no matter the occasion?
No one could read her insane depression and she considered that a victory. She had managed to keep her true feelings of loss and grief hidden. It all had happened so long ago.
There was a ghost hanging around her. A young man who stood among her friends each night, unseen by society. He rarely spoke and her friends barely acknowledged him. He was good friends with each of them despite all. He had gotten used to her friends being callous.
When she would get drunk and dance alone he kept her company until someone else came to dance with her. He would always smile to make her happy and he would drink with her when she was alone. And on lonely nights when it was raining he escorted her to her home door. She wouldn’t invite him in, but it didn’t matter at all. Just being there for her made him happy.
He had spotted her crying on the night that her boyfriend had left her. She had gone out drinking alone, she was out to fuck herself up. He had seen her and his lips had engorged, his eyes dilated black as the sky that night. He said no word to her that night, but got up and sat down next to her. She didn’t mind and from then on he had sat in her company many a times.
She had visited his house a few times, she lived nearby though it seemed a distant land as his house didn’t compare to her’s at all. The roof was moldy, it had rot in the rain. He was ashamed when she came to see him when it was one of those rainy nights.
“Why do you punish me?” he asked every night, “Why do you chastise me for my dreams of you?”
He never received any reply from her, he sometimes felt his love was a crime. To never be truly gazed or touched by her. To see her come and go with other men, but never him. He had to come in grips with the truth, loving her was just like serving time.
She was a dying whore born of a virgin with no soul. She had no family except him to count on, so he took his punishment. To not touch, to not love, but to just keep a brotherly protective eye on her.
One night, he had entered her house without her permission. She was there and she was looking at him. There was Frank Sinatra playing in the background. Time had stopped. They both were scared, she hadn’t gazed him in a long time. There was no hate or jealousy.
She came forward and caressed his head. Then she put her hand on his heart and kissed it. He felt shivers down his spine and he tried to touch her, but it was too late. She closed to freezer door and left his remains inside there. He had to go back to the shed outside where the rest of him was buried and left to rot. Maybe she would visit him again soon, so that he could lock eyes with her again.