Red Death at 6:14
by Bethany Sabo-Brisbois
I suppose the closest I’ve ever come to falling in love was with a girl named Helene, I can’t recall ever learning her last name; our relationship didn’t require such things. I met her on July 9th, the sky was beginning to turn a dark shade of grey and the air began to get stiff and damp, a storm was beginning to form. I was walking home especially fast that day, trying to make it home before the rain began to fall; I took the shortcut, through the woods. With my headphones in, Red Death at 6:14, and my hood protecting my head from the slight mist that had arrived. Thunder roared above the tree tops, I looked up hoping the cool splash of rain would hit my face and cool down my body, sweating from the hot summer air that stuck to me, instead of the cool splash of rain, I felt my face meet the ground. A soft chuckle came from my left; I looked up finding a girl laughing at me.
“What’s your problem?! Do you just go around laughing at anybody that falls? Who do you think you are?!”
“Kid, you tripped on your own two feet, and took a face dive straight into the dirt. That is pretty funny, I mean you honestly couldn’t tell me that you wouldn’t have done the same.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say back to her, because well, I knew she was right.
“Look, I’m sorry if I offended you in any way, here let me help you up”
She took out her hand expecting me to take it, and to my surprise; I did. Amazingly strong for her tiny stature she was able to get me to my feet in a matter of seconds, I quickly brushed the soggy dirt off of my pant legs, the girl watched me and I could begin to feel myself feeling self conscious. She took out a lighter from her pants pocket and a cigarette out of a different one, she lit it and put it in her mouth, she breathed in the smoke, long, and deep.
“Hey, do you want one?”
“Umm, No thank you. I’ve got to go right home, and my mother would have a fit if I came home smelling like smoke.”
She laughed again, this time louder, “Hey don’t sweat it, truth be told I wasn’t even really asking you.”
To my surprise I began to feel myself get angry, “Well, why even bother asking me then?!” I could here the bitterness in my voice.
“I was being polite.” She smiled at me, not with her mouth, no, she smiled with her eyes. My nerves began to calm after she smiled, and I don’t quite recall thinking clearly.