by Jessica Bell
God, she’s fuckin’ gorge. I don’t give a toss if she’s fat, skinny, anorexic, or even a fuckin’ skeleton. With eyes like that she’s gonna mesmerize (is that a word?) me for as long as I’m alive and can say to all the fucked up prissy cunts in this school to eat shit ‘n’ die, bitches. And she’s not even that fat. She looks better than she used to. More real. More woman. More arse. I might even love her as much as I would me own sister ... no ... wait ... I wouldn’t fuck me sister.
She leans her face into me hand and licks me palm. Her tongue feels like the wet cotton wool me mum used to press over me cuts ‘n’ bruises. I close my eyes. And then she hugs me. First time. It takes me a sec to hug her back. But fuck, that’s not ’cause I don’t wanna. It’s just—I can’t really believe this is all for real. You know? A year ago, she was just like all the other chicks. Hot as. A bitchy slut, yeah, but still, there was something funny about her. Not funny funny. Just not ... normal.
There was somethin’ in her face that called out to me.
It said: Everything hurts.
And I thought: I know.
1 comment:
"Her tongue feels like the wet cotton wool me mum used to press over me cuts ‘n’ bruises." Great Line!
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