Flannery

15

those montages that they play, in movies.
set to the background of edward sharpe and the magnetic zeros or some other indie band that sings about living in the now.
silhouettes of girls with long,straight hair.
the narrator talking about the smell of the salty air and the sun, and their feet in the hot, gritty sand.

this was supposed to be the Best Summer Ever.
i kissed a girl this summer.
i dropped a charred, still flaming marshmallow onto my bare thigh in the cool air, and I now have an enticing constellation where my skin melted.
there was a girl with curly brown hair. she was kinder than ever to me this summer.
i walked two blocks at midnight on the fourth of july, and a middle aged man harassed my friend and pushed her into the street. he walked away with a possessive, self assured smirk because no one had ever told him that he couldn't.
but he didn't know that he smelled like shame.
i ruined my first real relationship with a boy with brown hair and a crooked smile. i cared about him. i couldn't be with him.
he treated me like my father treats me.
i left rehab this summer, and my friends will kill themselves.
we ruin kids.
i plan to smoke marijuana in a few days.
i almost fit in with a group of friends this summer. They forget about me.
i hate my family. so much.

This was supposed to be the Best Summer Ever.
Fuck.