When she wakes up Nina feels sick and heavy, her mouth sour, tasting of vomit. Lily is asleep, her head on Nina's lap.
It wasn't a dream.
Nina flips her (pink) phone open and gnaws at her (pink) nails through the first four rings, until her (not pink) mother picks up. "Nina," she says, "where were you?"
"I'm at the hospital," Nina whispers. She feels like a robot. Lily doesn't stir. "Didn't they call you?"
"I don't know," her mother says, and there are a few moments of silence as she searches through her phone history, her breathing coming heavy through the line. Nina puts it away from her ear.
"Why are you whispering?" her mother asks, and then: "Come home."
"Okay," Nina says, and murmurs a mechanic I love you before hanging up. "I'm not whispering," she says to the silence.
Nina can do anything. Her mother has told her enough times: she's pretty, she's young, she's healthy, moderately rich: there's no way she can't achieve anything she sets her mind to. This is it. This is the only chance. Perfection.
Nina can dance with a twisted spine and ribs that feel like they're broken. She kind of likes the pain, to be honest.
And then of course there's Lily - the Black Swan -, looking at her from the other side of the room, her eyes dripping with golden brown, her long thighs, the way her chest heaves regularly as she breathes, in, out, in, out, not like Nina (when Nina breathes it's in in in when she's feeling greedy and cold and out out out when it's all too much).
"Why don't you like me?" Lily asks. She takes a sip from her water bottle. A droplet catches on her lips. That's why I don't like you."I like you just fine," Nina says. "Besides, I'm not here to like people
( ... )
holy Jesus Christ this is fucking amazing. Best thing I've read in a long time. I want to quote it back to you but there are so many lines that I just love. And every line is important, every line is phrased so beautifully, flowing and intense and sharp and dhflflasjddks how do you good writing.
Lily's apartment is slow and ochre, with a metal door and a wooden little table in the middle of the living-room. There are black and white photos in some corners, like friendly ghosts popping in to say hi. Nina hates it. She feels out of place here, even more so than usual
( ... )
Reply
Reply
When she wakes up Nina feels sick and heavy, her mouth sour, tasting of vomit. Lily is asleep, her head on Nina's lap.
It wasn't a dream.
Nina flips her (pink) phone open and gnaws at her (pink) nails through the first four rings, until her (not pink) mother picks up. "Nina," she says, "where were you?"
"I'm at the hospital," Nina whispers. She feels like a robot. Lily doesn't stir. "Didn't they call you?"
"I don't know," her mother says, and there are a few moments of silence as she searches through her phone history, her breathing coming heavy through the line. Nina puts it away from her ear.
"Why are you whispering?" her mother asks, and then: "Come home."
"Okay," Nina says, and murmurs a mechanic I love you before hanging up. "I'm not whispering," she says to the silence.
You are, the silence answers ( ... )
Reply
Nina can dance with a twisted spine and ribs that feel like they're broken. She kind of likes the pain, to be honest.
And then of course there's Lily - the Black Swan -, looking at her from the other side of the room, her eyes dripping with golden brown, her long thighs, the way her chest heaves regularly as she breathes, in, out, in, out, not like Nina (when Nina breathes it's in in in when she's feeling greedy and cold and out out out when it's all too much).
"Why don't you like me?" Lily asks. She takes a sip from her water bottle. A droplet catches on her lips. That's why I don't like you."I like you just fine," Nina says. "Besides, I'm not here to like people ( ... )
Reply
This. Was. Flawless.
Reply
(You do know there's one more part, though, right? Though you've got me thinking - maybe ending it there would be a good idea.)
Thank you thank you ♥
Reply
Reply
Reply
Oh my heart! Unsettling and vibrant and totally lovely. ♥
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment