OLDER
CONTACT ME
DIARYLAND
2003-04-08 - 12:28 a.m.
I put the notebook back into my backpack, stood up, helped her up, and we were off again. Following the fence down the road, her running between street lights again, me with hands in pockets moving at a pace that suits me.
I know there are faces that stare out of windows at us. Her clad in a tight black top with baggy pants, black hair streaming behind her, an innocence shining in her eyes. Me with my shades of blue and green, backpack overloaded with random stuff, scars and tattoos covering my arms, innocence long since torn from me. The people here don't approve of either of us, even though I've lived here my whole life. I grew up on the other side of town, left and came back three times; never finding what I was looking for elsewhere. After my last move I noticed her at the bar that my sister works at. She came in applying for a waitress job, but after the boss saw her he said no. A few days later she came into the bookstore I work at, just browsing she kept saying. She came up to me and struck up a conversation before she left. Almost immediately my boss came running out of his office and began yelling at me. "Why didn't you tell me she was in here? Next time tell me when she comes in." I just sat there as he yelled; scribbling away in my notebook. When I locked up that night I saw here hanging around outside the bar again. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and walked over to her. "Won't let you in, will they?" I asked. "No, they'll let me in, they won't serve me though." She replied, swinging herself around the street light. "Come in with me, I'll buy you a drink." I opened the door and walked in not waiting for her to reply, just expecting her to follow.
