Читать книгу i didn't mean it but i sort of did - kelsey rakes - Страница 3

1995

when her dog got hit by a car, her mother bought her a pink tea set to make up for it. she’d brew milk and diet soda in the teapot, pretend that she was a princess waiting for the king and queen to whisk her away.

when she dropped the a teacup her kingdom broke into one thousand porcelain splinters.

the dog had always drooled on her pillow so she never like him much, but for the teacup—she held a funeral.

2001

someone left a note on her desk that simply read “you are glorious.”

she folded it and put it in her shirt pocket, pressed tight against her heart, and vowed never to forget those words. it worked until she put the shirt in the wash and the note was destroyed. all the warmth she felt was waterlogged, torn to shreds.

she never really felt glorious anyway.

2003

once she made a wish on birthday candles, but forgot it. she still thinks about whether or not it came true.

she thinks: “probably maybe.”

she wouldn’t know what she would do with the wish if she got it. maybe keep it tight within her cupped hands, let it fill the cracks in her palms and watch it glow softly. like a firefly.

2004

here is what she remembers: in first grade her friend landed a modeling job and made five hundred dollars.

“could i model too?” she asked, and her friend just looked at her and laughed.

2005

“i like to watch you light up,” he tells her, she presses the ends of cigarettes into her palms, where glowing embers and the remains of her birthday wishes burn little circles. sometimes she unclenches her fists to look at the scars but then remembers why some things are better left hidden.

2006

she only befriends people with pretty eyes, because maybe that means that they look at the world in a pretty way. her eyes are the colour of lumber or rust or the clay in her backyard, so she has trouble seeing the beauty in everyday situations.

she keeps thinking that if she squints in the mirror in a certain way she can see herself, really see herself. but she never cares to look.

2007

she keeps things secret, like stories and lies and pieces of sea glass. she keeps crumbling christmas trees well past march. she keeps trying.

2008

she had a unicycle she tried to ride. she had a book she tried to read. she had a boy she tried to love.

she tries to make her bed some mornings, and she tries to believe her wishes might still come true.