Post by Elizabeth Katherine Grace Wade on Aug 20, 2010 23:01:45 GMT -5
ELIZABETH KATHERINE GRACE WADE
libby's heels clicked against the pavement loudly, the sound reverberating off the brick buildings, right back at her. her eyes shifted, watching people as they passed, their eyes empty, vacant, staring ahead, in a rush. she looked down every alley, anxious. she slid her sunglasses off of her head and on her face, to cover her eyes. she brushed her fingers lightly through her hair, bringing it closer to her face, as she wedged herself between strangers as she tried to make her way down the sidewalk. one man knocked into her so hard, she plummeted to the ground, landing right on her bottom. the contents of her large bag spilled everywhere, and she scrambled to pick them up. a few people who passed glanced her way, while others ignored her and kept on going. "assholes," she muttered under her breath as a bunch of guys came walking down an alley and stepped on her hand, and on her sketch book which was almost in her grasp. one picked the book up and dangled it above her head. "what was that, sweet cheeks? you know, we don't like chicks who curse." libby grabbed her bag that was almost full again and stood. "well, i couldn't really give a fuck. now that we've established that, give me my sketch book so i can be on my wa-" "oh, you mean this?" he flipped through the pages, exposing bright sketches of flowers, animals, and other things. "hmm. what do you think, boys? should i give it back to her?" a boy from behind libby, with bright blue eyes and blond hair, chirped, "nah, man. she should have to pay for it." "pay for it? i don't owe you a fucking dime. now give me my sketch book!" "i don't think that was the kind of..payment my man jojo was speaking of, pretty lady." libby gulped, her eyes wide. the group huddled around her, shoving her back into the dark alleyway.
--
libby, beaten and bruised, emerged from the alleyway, instantly collapsing in the dim sunlight. she pried her eyes open lightly, her arms wrapped around her sketch book. she watched a few people walk past, scoffing at the nuisance that they seemed to see in her. no one stopped to help her. no one stopped to care. seemed like nothing had changed. her eyes slowly closed, as she slipped into the blackness that had been nagging at the back of her head.
