ghostlyfish
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Jackie closes her eyes, picturing it. Jackie can be mean too, fuck it. Shauna, her best friend. Shauna, brown eyes all sad and open, begging for somebody to kiss it better. Did she tell him what to do? Was she nice about it, nice while she broke everything Jackie loved to pieces? Did she tell him to slow down, to go smoother? Did she turn on the radio?
Jackie’s hand is on the button of her grimy denim shorts. She looks around, precursory, breaking her reverie, but she’s all alone in these dark dark woods. The snap of the button is almost swallowed up by the screaming of the crickets.
Her eyes flutter shut again.