The Neighborhood

Let me tell you a little secret, can you keep it?
I'm Quinn. I'm 17 years old living in a small neighborhood with my tiny family. Our neighborhood is kind of scary. There's drug abuse around every corner, no police in the neighborhood. They have to drive miles after miles to get here. But no one does that anymore, they've given up hope for us. But one thing is more important than that: I haven't given up hope ... yet.

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2. 30 cuts a day keeps the memories away

Her eyes were the last thing I saw before she passed away. I cried myself to sleep that night, promised myself that I'd never do such an awful thing again. Leaving myself like this would never become a great idea, ever. Because one way or another, I'd still end up alone. So this is my story, my long awful story about me, myself and I.

Her hands were shaking when she pulled off my dress, skin barely touching. My hands were in her hair, holding her lips tight against mine. Soon enough my tongue reached her lower lip, asking for access to her mouth. She responded quickly, but gentle enough not to scare me away. She had been doing this before, still she was so nervous. But then it all changed. I changed. My mind, myself and her.

I pushed her away, harsh. Her  confusing eyes were on my face, and I opened my mouth to shutter out some words, but I couldn't. I got down on my knees, picking my dress up, slowly covering myself with it, so I weren't left in bra and panties.

"Quinn ... what's wrong?" She asked.

I just shook my head. I had this feeling all over my body. Both satisfaction and guilt. I couldn't do this.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, knowing what I was doing was wrong.

"Can you zip me up?" I asked her gently, pulling my hair up in a pony tail, then bringing it all together on my head. I then turned my back to her, so she could zip me up. She finally did.

With a soft squeeze from the dress, when it tightened around my shoulder blades. I heard the familiar noise from the zipper, yet I couldn't and wouldn't smile because of this. Because of her hands against my bare skin, her warm hands ...

It was so tempting just to pull off my dress again, just to feel her hands brush against my shoulder blades to zip my dress up from the back. But I still had to go. I just had to. It felt too wrong.

"I'm sorry," I repeated myself, taking a glance over my shoulder onto her face. So pretty but yet so sad face. I smiled, not because of happiness and not because of sadness either. I smiled because I did not know what else to do. I did love her.

She finally said something, but with a shrug she pulled away, and looked at me. She didn't say anything else than "bye Quinn," before she left.  I thought it would be myself that left, but apparently not. Sheila did leave first. And I just stood there staring, with emptiness in my eyes, at the raw wooden door.

I couldn't do this anymore. I was so done with love that night, at my mother's third wedding. For God's sake, Sheila was my best friend and the adoptive daughter of my mother's husband! It was so wrong as it could be. Cause before I knew, she'd be my best friend, crush and my half sister! It couldn't turn anything more wrong than this. But unfortunately it did.

The day after my mothers wedding, she and her new husband did go on a vacation. I did not know where this vacation would take it's place, but I thought with myself that it sure as hell would be a paradise for them both. Who wouldn't love the day and night after their marriage? Lots of sex, food, kissing and romantic movies. Chocolate, warm hugs and teasing. Who wouldn't love that?

I would even though I don't want to get married in a church, it's still against the law where I live. To marry another person of the same sex.

I didn't understand that.

Sheila had to leave the town. Her reasons weren't stated, and I didn't know anything about it before my mother told me. Right after Sheila would be on the plane to LA.

I couldn't believe she did not tell me, and let another person tell me that right after she left! I was so filled with anger that day. Agony and emptiness filled me.

And from that day I knew how it was. How it was to lose someone you did love that much. Because she never came back. My first love never returned. My best friend never returned. Nor did my half sister return. She had all these roles in my life, and then she just disappeared. I was longing after all this time, why did I pull away in that second? Because I though it was wrong? - Probably.

Her plane crashed. And the last thing she said to me did hurt as much as I hurt today. "Bye Quinn."

Now I drown all of my sorrows in a game I call: "30 cuts a day keeps the memories away."

To finish it.

Someday, I'll be brave enough.

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