It was a boy.
My mother was oddly nice,
my father texted me.
We talked.
I felt ugly, my hair is delicate - patches are falling out.
I wonder if he could tell that I was closed off
He didn't force me to talk.
He commented on my room
I smiled softly when he tripped.
He goes to Uni.
He made me smile,
He sat down when I did.
He had done his job for the day.
Sincerely, I smiled. Huh.
YOU ARE READING
The Property Of: Neena Eellante | ✓ |
Short Story❝ Neena Eellante ❞ - The last two words written by a girl with ratty blonde hair and tear stained, blue eyes. Words scratched fiercely into the spine of a leather book that held the story of a now, dead girl. - | a spin off of the character Neena Ee...
