draughn0n
"My INTENTION was to HELP you!" He shouted, as I slammed his car door. "Well, you fucking didn't." I snarled back at him. "'intention' doesn't matter if you're fucking up my job."
He's so demanding for a child. Four years old, and dragging his mother by the hand down the street. I watch my sister try to tell him no as he points to a shop window, but he stares her down, steely blue eyes that seem impossible in the head of someone so young. She rolls her eyes at him, and lets him guide her into the spinning door. I sigh. Well, at least his uncles are more stern with him.
There's nothing quite like thinking there may be nothing out there. That there's always a chance that what your family has been subtly pushing into your mind for 16 years has been because of their own doubt, that if you can believe in their God that He may just be real. But when your doubt is discovered, when you start to consider all the things wrong in your little church group, it can shatter not only your families image of 'God' but everything they believed in. Including you.
I wait in line, behind 30 different girls. I feel the sweat on my forehead, and look around. There's a cute girl behind me, who grins as my eyes pass her face. She's the only one who doesn't look nervous, and it's actually reassuring. She waves a little as my eyes linger on her, and those cute brown fingers waggle at me, and I blush turning back to the line. Focus. You need this commercial. You do. Stop wanting to flirt with the competition.
I glare at the passengers on either side of me, hoping the spikes on various parts of my outfit will scare people away. The flowers on my skirt are slightly more inviting, but paired with these boots, well, I look threatening to say the least.
"You're my anchor," she says. "The one thing that keeps me tied down, stuck in this fucking town. I want to cut you loose, float away, but I need you when things get rough. I'm sorry. I shouldn't say that."
I nod. "Yeah. You shouldn't. But that's just how it is. But I can't hold you down any longer. It drains me, just as much as you. It's exhausting, keeping you from...living, I guess."