Jaded

“I’m jaded, but I think I like it.”

 

She stood outside in the cold just to feel something. One hand holding a joint, the other shoved in her pocket flicking a penny back and forth. An owl hooted in the distance. Other than that, it was quiet save for the wind whistling in and around the buildings now and then. The tourists had already fled the city for the night.

 

Her breath swirled around in front of her face as she thought back on the day and the weeks since she’d been here. Numb now, the burn of the smoke in her lungs was the only thing still hot.

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Nowhere to Hide

She’d always felt like she had something to prove…ever since she was little. Some people would kill for a face that made you look innocent. Not her. She spent years running from it, showing herself and anyone in her way that she could not be controlled. No way. No how.

At some point or another, she’d turned into a grown-up. No one ever tells you that grown-ups have no idea what they’re doing. But to be fair, other grown-ups might have their shit together. She was just trying to prove she wasn’t a total screw up. So far, so good…as far as she could tell anyway.

Every city was the same old thing — new faces to meet, new faces to prove something to.

Occasionally a face from her past, nearly forgotten, would show itself. Then she was back there, living her memories of the way it used to be. Sometimes she couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing. All she knew was that it was harder to hide here…nowhere to run. Nothing to do but face it.