Hidden Alleys

click. not again. I hate that sound. I guess I should be grateful that cameras are quieter now...but still I hate it. what is it this time? I mentally go through how I must look today, my worn out jeans, my strap tshirt. I would never have guessed I was material for trend-spotters. Yeah right, as if that was all there was to see. It was usually the charms they noticed first. or maybe my tattoes?

I traced my hand up my right arm shivering, from my shoulder down just about all the right half of my body was covered in them.... but that wasnt really enough to make you a fashion-blog super-star. Not even in a small town like this. No, that was simply what they usually noticed first.

What really made them flick were the charms. I wore enough neckalces and bracelets to make me look like I just walked out of Old Town in Sin City. Except I wasnt trashy. didnt look trashy. therefore I must be trendy. or so they thought. I hate it when people think they got a right to treat you like you are on display.

And then it happens.

As my foot touches the ground a cold whiplash lashes against my gut. Im dizzy. I stop walking. I know I have to turn but every instinct tells me to walk faster. stupid that wont help. it might make it worse, you gotta look it in the eye. Slowly I turn and I see it. or him. its a him this time. have you ever seen someone walking towards you and felt how dangerous they were? your body suddenly tells you stories of everything that could go wrong, and how much it would hurt. Its like that, except this guy isnt dangerous. what he can do wont hurt. but he is wrong, he shouldnt be here, I shouldnt be seeing him. He´s already dead. A ghost.

He´s eyes are void, not real, looking at me only from a pool of memories. Then someone blocks my view, for just a second, but its enough to bring me back. I walk faster. dont stop. dont look back. When I get to the plaza I stop. Im shaking. dammit. I hate it. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate when a stupid prick thinks my bracelets are for show. I hate knowing that they are not. I hate when it happens in the middle of my day. I hate that this is my day. More than anything I hate it when it rattles me like this, I should be used by now. Just another day genius, just another day. get a grip. take a breath. walk on.