| abstract | - She used to chew on her bottom lip a lot. I never worked out whether it was a nervous habit or some weird thing she did in an effort to look cute. Regardless, that was her trademark. At first, it was little things. She'd scratch at her skin and continue to gnaw on her own lips until, eventually, rumors began to spread. I remember someone saying that she'd eat rocks just to chip off pieces of her teeth and eat them. I saw this all as something unnerving and horrifying to witness. Her mouth often bled while she talked, and soon she simply stopped saying anything. The girl would sit and chew on her fingernails and nod along with the conversation. I would've asked what it was all about, but I was a bit nervous about talking to someone who was only an acquaintance and addressing a problem that may be bigger than both of us. I was right about the problem being bigger than I thought. Usually, when you're nervous, there's that part of you that's telling you it's all in your head and that you should man up. I wish I didn't man up. I'd happily take staying at home and being a pussy than confronting her again. It was at a party that she broke down and said it was all the stress of her family and friends and school. I took her to my place, thinking her family was abusing her; she wouldn't admit it, but I, stupidly, jumped to an extreme conclusion. Now I'm stuck. Whatever the girl is now... doesn't like her skin. She also doesn't like my skin. In fact, I'm pretty sure she doesn't like anything human. ...and now I don't. She kissed me in thanks and now my flesh burns. I need to bite it off. It's not even tasty; it's horrid and thick... but that's all I can think about.
|
