She walked the moonlit streets by herself, but she wasn't afraid. She was alive, and that was the worse thing that was. She walked like a ghost, void of emotion. That way it was easier. She had the presence of death around herself like perfume. As she turned into the a side yard, careful not to fall over any of the lawn ornaments as she stumbled across the obstacle course in black stilettos, and her signature fishnets. As she opened up the door to the shed in the back of the house, a cloud of smoke billowed on her. I better get a spliff to the face She thought. After her parents tried yet again to sit her down and talk to her about how their divorce shouldn't affect her life, or her slipping grades in college, she walked out the back door in the middle of their screaming match. The boys we're already there, as was Pandora. Panda always looked out of place. Usually bright and colorful, she was the pink balloon set in a pit of dark poisonous vipers.
Cook had already started drinking, probably hours before this. He was rarely seen without a bottle in his hand. She reached into the medicine pouch around her neck that she received as a gift from an old friend in New York City. She pulled out a handful of pretty colored pills. She took two of the small blue ones, popped them between her pale pink colored lips and dry swallowed them. She took a seat on one of the chairs.
"Ef, Ef!" Effy turned around to see Jj eagerly calling her name. If she had it her way, he wouldn't want her; he wouldn't want any of this. He wouldn't be part of this life. He was the sweetest thing she had ever seen, and despite the shit he has seen being dragged along on Cook's many misadventures, he still had a large amount of innocence in his eyes. He amused her, and that's why she didn't make him leave and go where he belonged.
"I learned a new magic trick!" he pulled out a deck of cards, as Cook handed her a spliff. She took the dark blue lighter from her medicine pouch and lit it, sucking in the sweet smoke and holding it in her lungs. Her eyes glazed over as Jj showed her the trick. Pandora was bound to puke in the next hour, Effy thought to herself. Pandora was innocent too, but not in the way Jj was. Pandora wanted this life; she wanted to be accepted into this. Yes, it was true she couldn't handle it, but it was still her choice. After watching Panda cough while lighting the spliff, she passed it back to Freddie.
Poor Freddie, he just didn't understand. They would be perfect together, but Effy didn't do perfect. She fucked up perfect, she ran away from perfect. Love gets you hit by a bus, or so she had been told. She would break his heart.
Then her eyes landed on Cook, who was lounging in a chair, drinking vodka straight from the bottle, already on his nightly bender and muttering The Ace Of Spades under his breath. Cook was a pig. Cook was a wanker, a tosser. He was a slag. He was just like her. He was a ghost, a shell that wasn't built for this world. A body that was created for destroying.
Their eyes met, they weren't perfect together. Even when they were together it didn't feel right. But yet she still craved him. And it doesn't feel right at all.