There is a girl I used to know, but she vanished in a plume of ashen cigarette smoke. I loved this girl, she was funny and loving and happy. I guess I didn’t know much about her in the end. What i do know, is that she is gone but I will find her. Her vanishing act took place about a year ago, she was replaced with a twisted doppelganger. The only resemblance was bitten down fingernails and dark eyebrows. All other attributes had morphed into an altogether darker being. Knotted hair, dead eyes and hollow cheekbones. A stick figure full of jagged edges replaced the girl I once knew. She may never come back, but I loathe this version. The scent of tobacco and dishonesty linger in every room she travels through. Her presence, once welcomed now garners wary and worried looks and hushed tones.
What happened to her? the demons won. Sometimes, early in the morning, when I watch her swipe mascara onto her jet black eyelashes I catch a glimpse of who she used to be. Though she disappears as quickly as she came and I wonder how I can get her back. This mystery girl reminds me strongly of a chameleon, turning whatever hue the situation dictates. Among her crowd, she is wild, magnetic, yet almost dangerous. Gray smoke curls around each lie she tells, because there is no truth. I see her other times in certain classes, letting the old self shine through. The literary genius-ready with each answer. God I want her back. I follow her as closely as possible, cringing and admiring her brass exchanges. When did she start hating herself so much?
She goes home and channels her old self as best as possible; though it is a bit like wearing too small clothes. The feeling is off. She makes nice with the family she used to adore. Now, they are just more strangers to be civil with. I watch as she interacts with the mother she used to call her friend. Each sentence they utter is a cautionary volley, seeing which will be set off first. The mother utterly wary of this daughter 2.0, limits all freedoms in an attempt to find the girl she once knew. The brother who used to admire her, has lost all respect and sadly wonders where his sister went. He shakes his head, disgusted. I watch this girl-she does not care.
She is angry. Why? Why is she so angry? I can feel her blood boiling, I can feel the control slipping away. Who is she? why is she so lost. Anger is best channeled through treachery and bodily exchanges. The urge to kill, becomes the urge to fuck. Gone are the days of young boys and fruitless crushes. This is a time of charm and debauchery. She becomes a seducer. A serpent stopping at nothing. For whom she wants, she has. God, who is she? What is she? A whore? Femme Fatale? A victim? None, she is the girl I once knew.