beauty and the bruise .

She stood in the mirror on her tippie toes . "The teal open-toed flats," she whispered with the house phone wedged in between her chin and chest . she held her mini, sun dress dress up to her body and smiled . i frowned .

i did not want her to go out with him . not again . she danced around the room in a jittery buzz, chi flat iron in one hand and pink lip gloss in the other . those measly beauty tools looked like accessories to murder now . i just wanted to press pause on this moment . i wanted to rewind and remind her of the 'incident' last month .

i wondered, "did she really forget?" i mean , she was putting concealer over the scar under her cheek . When she danced around the room , her spine wiggled . . . that wasn't on purpose . How could she forget ? I didn't . Maybe it's harder to forget when you're the one holding a girl in your arms with a water coloring painting on her face . Red spilling from her mouth and blending with the blues of her jaw . the yellow-ish puss that presses itself against the melody of her violent, violet eye .

while she curled her hair, i held on to the curling of my stomach . who could i tell ? once you turn a certain age, running to tell adults don't mean sh*t if you're already such and so . i could have screamed at her again , but that's the reason why she was ignoring me all together now . but after all, he was 'different now' . that's what he told her and my flesh knotted up at that thought . i couldn't sit still so i walked into the living room .

the heart-hacker outside honked the horn of his Mercedes . i guess money can strangle self-control and self-love . in the middle of her mascara stroke, she dropped the beauty utensil and ran to the door . "COMINGGG !!" she yelled melodically, smiling . She closed the door to grab her purse . he honked again . and again . and again .

". . . so , i walked outside with my AK-47 and sprayed his car . i shattered glass and metal across the pavement of Adams street . okay, wishful thinking . "

so, she walked out of the door and told me to lock it when i left . she shot a glare of rage at me when she walked out of the door . then and there, we walked away from our friendship. i couldn't handle her dangerous devotion to him and she couldn't handle my 'lack of support' . i lost my friend . . . & two months later, she lost her life .

[this is a fictional story and im praying to God that is stays as such . smh]