Discarded

         The dirty pink skirt lay crumpled in a musty closet. Look at me! Just look at me! Having been loved for a single evening, it was quickly discarded by the same callous young girl who had gushed over it’s beauty a scant week ago. I was good enough to wear to the prom, but not good enough to be cleaned and hung up? The rosy garment was becoming more bitter by the moment.

         A door opened, but alas, it was not the closet door. Forgotten. I’ve been forgotten. The self-pity was quickly put aside as a muffled sob whispered through the cracks around the closed door.

         “Can you talk?” a tear choked voice murmured somewhere beyond the door. “He did! How’d you know?”

         The stained pile of pink cloth could not hear the other half of the conversation, but  it’s interest had been piqued.

         “A girlfriend? Are you kidding?” When the voice came again, it was muffled with grief, “Well, you never told me why.”

         Oh no! Did the poor baby get dumped?

         The sniffling from the adjacent room was nearly inaudible. “I know you told me that part! Everyone told me,” continued the disconnected voice, “but I love him! I really and truly love him!” A long silence was broken by a wailing sob. “Y-yes. We d-d-did it.”

         Did what?

         “I know, but h-h-he told me he l-loved me. He said that meeting m-me was fate, and w-we’d be together fore-e-ever,” came the gasping response to an unknown comment. “I kn-know that we met two days ago! Don’t you think I know that?” The voice, still miserable, was becoming hostile.

         Two days is one day longer than I got!

         “I don’t care what you would have done! You’re not me,” the voice was becoming rigid. “But you weren’t there. You didn’t hear the romantic things he whispered in my ear all night!” A sigh parted the hidden lips, “He said, ‘If I never live to see tomorrow, I will die fulfilled. Finding you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

         And you believed him? Hah!

         “Well, no one asked for your opinion!” the words pounded on the closet door. “It was my choice! I’ll fuck whoever I want!” A telephone receiver slammed down; the sound squeezed under the door, echoing off the walls. “Bitch!” came a last futile cry.

         Yes, you are. A bitch who got what she deserved.









Word Count: 402