It’s funny because it’s true

1951

"Ley," Milana whispered through quiet laughter, tilting her head away when Bailey pressed a kiss to her neck, arms wrapping around her waist from behind. "I'm making breakfast, it's my mom's day off." The apartment kitchen was rather small, but it was able to fit the two girls.

Bailey raised her eyebrows, tilting her head as she rested her chin on her girlfriend's shoulder, brown hair so dark it was almost black tickling her chin. "Do you want me to help?" A French accent influenced her words.

"No," Milana smiled and moved away from the stove top, the other girl moving to the countertop across from it, hopping up to sit atop the cold marble. She looked pretty, she had silky blonde hair with roots that were brown and green eyes so soft they mixed with a blue. She was a nice girl, sharp jawline, smooth lips, basically just the average American teenager, perfect figure, and straight A's. Bailey was the opposite. Her eyes were sharp, dark blue like an ocean. Her hair was medium length, bangs curled in a roll, and she was in a sort of rebellious state. She had gotten kicked out of her parents' house and ended up living with her girlfriend and her mom and her aunt.

They both sort of rebelled together, since they were both in a relationship. Lesbians, is what they were called. Dykes, to most. They went to a bar in the city (California had a lot) where people like them were welcomed. That was the reason Bailey was kicked out. She'd come back home from a bar and had kisses on her cheek (from Milana, she wasn't a cheater) and looked like a man. It was awful. She hated the screaming matches that happened.

"If you're just going to sit there and look pretty, that's alright, but you're sitting like a doll," Milana said.

Bailey rolled her eyes, pushing hair out of her face. "I thought you liked pretty things sitting on top of some- oh, Jesus!" She laughed when a spoon got thrown at her.

"Language!"

"I'm sorry, princess."

The blonde girl smiled and blush met her cheeks as she went back to moving around the kitchen. Bailey watched her, eyes soft.

"Morning, ladies," Milana's mother said. She was in a robe, looked pretty similar to her daughter, and had an Italian effect to her voice.

The black haired girl quickly hopped off the countertop, leaning against it instead. "Morning, Mrs. Esmé."

"Good morning, Bailey."

"Morning, mom," Milana said, getting a shoulder hug from her mother.

"You're making breakfast?"

"Mhm!"

Mrs. Esmé pressed a kiss to her head. "Thank you, dear." Bailey watched the interaction and smiled.

"Do... you want to go to the club tonight?" Bailey asked as her and Milana sat in the bedroom they shared, kicking her feet in the air as she laid on her stomach, doodling on paper. "I need to go out anyways, get some snacks."

"Not really," Milana muttered. Her mood had darkened as they day went on for some reason. She was leaned against the headboard, hands in her lap. "I'll probably take a nap whilst you go out, I'm really tired."

Bailey nodded. She put down her pencil and got up, grabbing a cardigan off of the end of the bed. "I'm going to go now then, I'll be back. Do you want me to get you anything?" She asked as she grabbed her purse off of the chair by the vanity.

Milana looked at her, the same soft eyes looking so sweet. "No, I just want you to be back quick."

Bailey smiled and walked over, pressing her lips against her girlfriend's, feeling a hand move to the back of her neck, pulling back after a few seconds. "I'll run, if that works."

Milana laughed and pulled her in for one more kiss, then they pulled apart. Soon, it was just her in the room. She sunk back into her bed and took shaky breaths.

The trip was quick. Bailey held one plastic bag, containing some candy she bought at the store and one soda. She walked back to the apartment pretty quick, humming a song under her breath. She pulled a key out of her purse when she got over to the front door, unlocking it and heading inside. She briefly said hello to Mrs. Esmé before going to the shared bedroom. She paused when the door was closed, before hesitantly knocking.

"Mil? Mili?" Bailey called out. No response. Her jaw tensed and she turned the door knob. "Darling?-" she trailed off when she opened the door. Milana was on the floor, indentation of something around her neck, pale above the head, one hand on her stomach, staining her white blouse with blood, other hand beside her head, wrist having a faint scratch. She had a blank stare, mouth open.

She was dead.

Bailey stared at her, dropping her bag, shaking aggressively. She stumbled for a moment, then ran over and knelt down beside her, holding onto her girlfriend's shoulders, arm around her shoulders and sitting her up, head in her lap. "Milana- oh- no!" She cried, leaning down and putting her head in her shoulder as tears were pulled out of her eyes. She whispered no over and over again, holding onto her blonde hair.

Mrs. Esmé walked in and let out a loud scream of horror, running over and kneeling down as well, arm around Bailey's shoulders. "It's okay, it's okay- there's nothing we can do," she whispered, though doubting her own words.

Bailey let out gut wrenching sobs, hiccuping, eventually letting go of her girlfriend, being pulled back by Mrs. Esme. She leaned into the hold, shaking, trying not to scream, shutting her eyes tight as eyeliner streamed down her face, some getting into her eyes and burning.

196-something i dont know, but cecilia's pov

"...and her funeral was five days later," I said simply, tilting my head back against the backing of the couch we sat on to stare at the ceiling. My hair was black now, cut short, no longer the length it once was. "I broke down a few times, her mom had to... uh... hold me whilst I cried. And- today's the anniversary of her death. Woo. Fun times."

Eliza held onto her mug of tea, looking at me with watery green eyes. She was my now girlfriend, and I loved her, pretty similarly to Milana. She had ginger hair, soft expressions, wore cardigans and skirts. Very eccentric, very energetic too. We were teachers together in Oklahoma. I had been all over the place after I turned twenty. We were both in our thirties, she was older. Not by much, though. "Bailey..." she whispered.

I looked back at her before shifting over and laying my head in her lap, feeling white linen against my cheek. I wasn't very physically affectionate anymore, nor emotional. I hid it all away after college. Tears welled up, and I tried to keep them away. "Sorry."

Eliza ran her free hand through my hair. "Do you want to cry?"

"Yeah."

"Go ahead."

"No, it's weak."

"Cecilia."

I curled up a little and readjusted my head, feeling like the eighteen year old who found my high school girlfriend dead again. I thought of it and tears slipped out, so I closed my eyes, just to not get eyeliner in my eyes once more. Eliza leaned down and kissed the top of my head, whispering comfort.