I write to keep the demons at bay.
It comes in waves. Big ones. Small ones. Choppy ones. But never the waves are smooth and calm like the ones that lap a lake’s edge. That rocks you gently as you gaze out onto the water. There has to be something disturbing the water, something creating those waves that change so often. Be it big or small, good or bad, the waters can never be calm and serene.
Her eyes slowly scanned the seas of strangers. She sat at the edge of the stool, one foot perched on the rung, one bouncing softly. It was slower than usual today. A few small groups here and there, a few couples on dates. It was only a Thursday after all, not many decide to go out to a bar this late. She shook her head softly as her eyes went back to the drink in front of her. Small drops had formed down the side as the glass condensed, the color of the liquid within seemed to swirl at the water mixed. “I shouldn’t have come” she thought to herself. It was nearly 10pm, he was supposed to be there at 9- she arrived by 8:45pm. Her motto in life was 15 minutes is on time, on time is late, and late is... well... you get the point. And the point was: He was late.
She bobbed her foot softly to the beat of the music without even thinking twice. Her eyes scanned the sea of faces quietly. She shifted slightly, adjusting her skirt with a small pull. Her outfit for the nights- a black suede mini skirt, a deep v-neck red blouse that showed off her chest perfectly, a brand new pair of fishnets and suede chunky heeled boots. She wore large but thin silver hoops, and a low hanging silver droplet chain. She was on the hunt, as always. For what though exactly? She wasn’t entirely sure. But it was just how life went on a Friday night. Wear the most revealing yet alluring outfit, drive to her favorite bar, and pick a spot that allowed for the best views, sipping on whatever drink she was in the mood for. Today was a simple Malibu and coke. Something she could easily drink without it hitting too hard. Because what she hunted for was the right prey to make it hit hard. Today seemed fruitless, then again it was just barely 9:30pm. She turned and went back to her phone, making herself look lonely. Simple tactics.
Waiting to Strike
I try to tell myself that good things will come when they are meant to. Because that’s fate right? It’s always fate, it’s always a waiting game. I’ve played that game for years… waiting to finish school. Waiting to meet that special someone. Waiting to start my career. Waiting. Waiting to free myself of the chains of an abusive relationship. Waiting to fix every wrong. Waiting to find every right.