one chance, one kiss, one taste of you, my magdalena
It's been three weeks since my near-death experience. That sounds so weird. I don't think I would've actually died. I think Spike just panicked - I mean, it was pretty scary. And painful. But not that dramatic, I swear. Although it's been kind of nice. I think it put me and Spike in a whole new place, now that we realized what it would be like to lose one another. Fucking terrifying.
It's sweet, he's been looking after me and all, while I was recovering. I didn't want to go to a hospital, because how do you explain something like that? So I just stayed at home and Spike hung around and took care of me. I missed a lot of school, but it's not like it matters. I asked Janice to bring me the homework, and did it most of the time, so I shouldn't fall that far behind. Again, not like it matters. Not like I need to graduate. I'm not going to college or anything, so school? Not a top priority right now.
I've been thinking, for the past three weeks. Thinking really hard. Of what I want out of life, and what I can actually have. Of what I'm going to do with myself. And I came to a decision. I know what I have to do.
It's Friday night, although I don't really bother distinguishing between the days of the week anymore, 'cause I'm not going to school or to work, so who cares? But I'm better now, and it's Friday, and I'm tired of being stuck in bed or wandering aimlessly around the house. My side is healed, although there's a pale scar there, but I think it'll fade eventually. I have other scars, anyway, what's one more? I'm not perfect anymore. Too fucking bad, really.
In front of my full-length mirror, I lace up the corset. It's black silk with hooks down the front and laces in the back and it makes my waist look tiny and pushes my breasts up so that the tiny scars from where Spike bit me are showing above the silk. I have on a black skirt with high slits up the sides and my lace-up black boots. Watching myself in the mirror, I lift up my long hair and pin it into a loose bun, leaving my neck and shoulders bare. The outfit is dark, simple, and perfect.
Giving myself a last once-over in the mirror, I leave to look for Spike.
It's sweet, he's been looking after me and all, while I was recovering. I didn't want to go to a hospital, because how do you explain something like that? So I just stayed at home and Spike hung around and took care of me. I missed a lot of school, but it's not like it matters. I asked Janice to bring me the homework, and did it most of the time, so I shouldn't fall that far behind. Again, not like it matters. Not like I need to graduate. I'm not going to college or anything, so school? Not a top priority right now.
I've been thinking, for the past three weeks. Thinking really hard. Of what I want out of life, and what I can actually have. Of what I'm going to do with myself. And I came to a decision. I know what I have to do.
It's Friday night, although I don't really bother distinguishing between the days of the week anymore, 'cause I'm not going to school or to work, so who cares? But I'm better now, and it's Friday, and I'm tired of being stuck in bed or wandering aimlessly around the house. My side is healed, although there's a pale scar there, but I think it'll fade eventually. I have other scars, anyway, what's one more? I'm not perfect anymore. Too fucking bad, really.
In front of my full-length mirror, I lace up the corset. It's black silk with hooks down the front and laces in the back and it makes my waist look tiny and pushes my breasts up so that the tiny scars from where Spike bit me are showing above the silk. I have on a black skirt with high slits up the sides and my lace-up black boots. Watching myself in the mirror, I lift up my long hair and pin it into a loose bun, leaving my neck and shoulders bare. The outfit is dark, simple, and perfect.
Giving myself a last once-over in the mirror, I leave to look for Spike.