#maskmade

We are the punchline of one of those shitty 80′s movies. There’s A KILLER on the loose, MAYBE TWO, and you know what? He is  THE HERO  that is supposed to save us, you’re THE FLIRT who usually dies before anyone else but the first victim, and I am THE ROCKER who almost makes it to the end. We are bound to die. Seriously, unless horror movies are wrong but I doubt that we will make it out of this. 

she’s followed him halfway across the park now, eyes sparkling & hands flapping in excitement. when she finally catches up to him, she taps his shoulder eagerly.

          ❝ hi !!   tommy !!   remember me ??   the other day, you asked me about the flowers & then you GAVE me one & then i started to cry !!   i just wanted to say thank you so much !!   i still have the flower. it’s dead now, but it’s still there. it’s my FRIEND !!   & it’s still beautiful. even if it’s dead. maybe i should start gardening & grow my OWN flowers !!   anyway !!   just wanted to say hi & to tell you that i made jam tarts & i’ve just been handing them around, because i LOVE jam tarts & it’s my birthday & my favorite thing is sharing jam tarts. ❞

she opens up her box & offers them to tommy, still beaming.

        “Oh!” 

are you flirting with me? the question strikes her as strange. she was, in fact flirting with him… she just hadn’t expected for him to ask so directly. most just played along with her pretty smiles, the way she would twist her hair around her finger. they would play along, or they would ignore her.

         " why would you think that?“ she speaks as though she is not aware of her actions, an articial sweetness that teetered on the edge of playful. it’s obvious that she knows precisely what she had been doing. batting her eyelashes, meticulously picking & choosing the perfect words to say… but she pretends she doesn’t. it was a game she had played time & time again…. except now, the game wasn’t so much a game as much as it was an excuse. a reason to direct her attention somewhere that wasn’t the past. she had never been one to face the reality of a situation. the consuming knowledge of what they had faced, of what she had survived … so she would play her game & hope he played along. teeth sink into her bottom lip & she glances down. it easier to think about other things. about … distractions.

a distraction. he could be a distraction… a distraction that understood, a distraction that knew more than any what she had faced & what they had survived. one who wouldn’t think she was crazy… or was just as crazy as she was. he could be a distraction with pretty eyes, nice hair — she pauses, halting her thoughts for the time being. she watches him for a moment, wanting a response. wanting a reaction. 

send me a url and I'll record my voice saying the url along with what I think of them.