Chapter Text
I’m going to be late.
Is the thought that rang through Marilyn’s head like a siren. Her mind was aching under the thoughts weight, begging for just one moment of silence. But, it was right. Marilyn would be late, not too late, but just enough. And maybe it would turn out to be a good thing. Maybe.
—
My legs were getting weaker as I ran to the train station, shaking with every step. I finally make it, and sit down with no regards to my manners next to a girl similar to me in age. I spend the next ten minutes pleading with my chest to not close in on me. I calm down, and take another look at the girl. Her hair isn’t too long, and it’s light brown and wavy and suits her face perfectly. Pretty. That’s what she is. Really really pretty.
“Are you alright?” I hear, and look up to realise a cigarette in between her fingers and that her lips had moved. Oh shit, she’s talking.
“Yes…Yeah I’m alright. I’m sorry for staring”, I look down. “I found your hair really…nice and. Actually I was going to tell you that…”
She lets out a small laugh. Or is she snickering? Is she laughing at me? Am I meant to laugh?
“It’s fine, and thank you. I found you gorgeous when I noticed you. I was going to tell you too, but you seemed overwhelmed and I didn’t want to be a bother.”
That last part hit me. I remembered why I was even here. Mother. I’m going to visit my mother. My mother who can’t visit me because she’s been in the hospital for the past year. She won’t tell me what’s wrong. I beg her to talk to me, and she always says she’s fine, and that she’ll be better soon, and we could forget about this soon enough but she’s lying. Everytime I visit she gets more and more pale and the light that once shone so bright in her eyes is slowly dimming. I can’t believe I’ve spent the last fifteen minutes thinking about how pretty this girl is when my mother is sick.
“Oh, no - you’re not a bother at all! I wanted to speak to you, but you had a cigarette so I assumed you wanted to be alone.”
She looks away for a moment before reaching her hand into her pocket. She offers me a cigarette ; I take it - I don’t have much to lose. She hands me a lighter and mere moments later she’s laughing when she realises I have no clue how to use one.
“I’m assuming you’ve never smoked before?”
I look up from the lighter and can’t help but giggle, and neither can she. She holds the lighter, still in my hand, and guides me on how to light it.