Anna Banana (mylovelyhero) wrote in parafaze,
Anna Banana

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Swayed By The Places You Step

With every moment, the sidewalk seemed to get wetter and wetter, along with her cheeks. Every moment was a lie, and asking all these questions were killing her bit by bit.
"Slow down a little. Turn your heart around," she said to herself. Her voice shaking.
She had to turn around. She was getting too close to him, far too close. This couldn't happen.
"Your miracle has died, hasn't it?" Someone sitting in the bus stop, with is hood pulled over his head, and his hands in his pockets, spoke out. She stopped walking, turned to the left, and pretended to be looking into his eyes. But really, she was reading the adverstisement on the side of the bench. It was one of those Truth ads. "Every day, 1,200 Americans die from smoking cigarettes," the poster said, along with some clever quote on the bottom. She started to look down now, and she looked at the knees of his jeans. Ripped apart. This boy never wore ripped jeans. Never. How long had he been on the streets?
"Yes, it has."
She took his hand, and they walked together.
"You know, you don't have to ask yourself so many questions. What happens, just happens. Don't turn your heart around, love. Don't slow down. Don't be swayed by the cracks in the sidewalk."
At that moment, she felt a hole forming on the edge of his jacket sleeve. This boy really had been out here for days, looking for her, living for her. He must have been. Because deep inside, she knew her miracle was still alive. He was still there, exsisting, among the other boys with ripped jeans, and holes on the edges of their jacket sleeves. The kind of hole that had the little pieces of cloth coming out from the sides. The kind of hole that she would rub her thumb against all night, and then pretend it was still there as she slept.

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