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PG-18 Nothing Is All Rainbows and Sunshine

Skull Tooth

"When life is precious, death is paramount."
Beautiful Briana Bardot brushed her luscious dark blonde hair for date night. Her blue
eyes stared at her reflection; watched nylon teeth smoothly drift each hair strand. Make-up applied next and a rug of her red dress ensured a perfect fit over her form. Forced smiles commonplace- she told everyone she was happy, but she was she really? She battled locked away thoughts surfacing more each day; a cancerous animal losing the fight. Thoughts declared demise the only option: clawing and scratching at the surface. She drowned in them, rejecting lifelines offered. Therapy her last option- would not subject herself to a chair, telling another soul what stomped on her brain every day. Instead, lived in constant denial: everything was fine- there was no problem.

"Babe! You ready?!" A voice climbing the stairs and into the bedroom she tucked
herself away in most days. The bed she confined herself to, absent of the puddle of tears. She would not return for the night if by some miracle the night took a pleasant turn. Knowing her luck, she would be right back here the following day, sulking in false comforting weeps.

"I'll be right down!" Giving her one last glance in the mirror -concluding she could look
no better than she did- hesitated out the door and down the stairs where her boyfriend impatiently waited.

His watch read 6:05 PM- an hour late. He wanted to leave as early as possible;
people usually congested popular spots on Friday nights. A storm cloud rolled in, lightening cracked and thunder roared, the night was doomed from the start. His glance at his watch solidified her woes, she would not enjoy this night. No compliments, just a snarl.

"You look handsome," attempt to lift his spirits. She always enjoyed his flannel buttoned
long sleeves and jeans. Cowboy hat and boots with a musk she grew addicted to. Despite admiring, no appraise returned.

He ripped open the door, ordering her out the door at the wave of a hand. Fire in his
eyes, already angry. Sure, she took her time getting ready, however, they needed this; she be damned if she was not more than adequately presentable. Unbeknownst to her, her night would be surely ruined for he held a secret she would soon discover. Her life a prevailing spiral downward into the sewers below. She thought herself amongst the rats living in shit and piss infested tunnels- he only worsened that gut-wrenching feeling tucked deep inside. Unable to hold jobs, unable to live outside his box he called a brain, Trenton Davis tugged at her sanity more than anyone. He often ripped the floor out beneath it, watching it fall. A war to get him to do anything other than sit in front of the TV or hang with his "boys," Briana felt everything they built fell into the pits of despair with no way out. This was a last ditch effort to savor whatever they might have left. Obsessively meticulous, if all ducks were in a row, she might not bite her cheek.

"Do you have the money?" Brushing passed him. Twilight skies kissed the day
goodnight; moon climbing the sky in the distance. Pretty colors danced, twinkles like the eyes of gods admiring life from high above. Night would soon set its threshold, laughter and drinking commence soon after.

"Uhhh…" ripping her from the euphoric dream- a far cry from the usual grave she dug
herself. Her epitaph: "A girl who never learned to let go," she would die here; nothing she did or said would change it- never the right move.

"Uhhh what?" Her gaze cross, submerging feeling this was the end floating up to the
surface. She really wanted a perfect night, sympathy from the gods, only apathy in her wake.

"About that.."

Way to go, thought to herself. You went and got your hopes up! Dubious foresight
ruptured the cyst in the back of her mind, cascading unforgiving puss. Infection damaged her mostly, ever since she was a little girl and her father left, unable to run from the darkness swallowing her whole. Consumed by the weight of guilt, any problem she felt engrossed by. Great remorse, impulsive self humiliation in the eyes of chaos. Order disrupted, scorn became forefront. Constantly blaming herself for an inability to maintain control, even when otherwise someone else's lack of vigilance. Trenton the opposite of conscientious, opposites attract, sometimes pandemonium ensued. He bit the hand that fed him more times she could count with her fingers and toes; she was on her last leg. He was about to kick it out from under her.

"Don't tell me," exasperatedly breathed. Only take so much until hole was too big to
climb out of. It was over, she should count her blessings now; thank the gods she was still alive and kicking; put him out on the street and move on with her life.

"It's not that I didn't want to mention it to you, I-I-I just didn't know how to tell you."

Palm in his face interrupted him further- explanation unnecessary. She was not an
amateur in disappointment; they lacked the sufficient amount of funds to explore the night with endless possibilities. Her fingers tight around the strap of her purse, stamping the ground to the car. A driver sat behind the steering wheel, hands a firm grip. Saw enough of this to know it was going to be a long drive. Forty five minute drive in an awkward silence, might as well engross himself in his music, wish for only silence, at least.

"And exactly how are we going to afford this, Trenton?! You know I worked my hands to
the bone for this! I slaved for a month!" Tears consumed her vision, turning it a red haze. If not Trenton, her job fed her manic depression with a silver platter. She hated her job, her perverted boss with his remarks. She threatened to sue, threatened to quit, but where would she go? Weakened by life and its weights, no impulse to fight anymore. Given up on strong will- never in her repertoire. Always bent over a table as it placed a firm foot up her ass.

"It's okay, Bradley," said the driver unintentionally eavesdropping. Her voice so loud, even the neighbors seven houses down with the television turned to Max volume could hear her. Could not necessarily blame her- Trenton sounded like a real piece of work.

"There's plenty of things we could do there without money." Reassurance more an
insult. Not the point. Their escapades widely depended on the money she invested into this, now gone to whatever he spent it on. Another month of biting her tongue at home and work and she might just put a pistol to her temple. Appetizing if she was being completely honest. A cease and desist order on life and all its stress lulled her even more now knowing the night was bound for failure. Defeated she was, throwing her arms up in surrender.

"Whatever!" Venomously opening the back door of the car. She crawled to the adjacent
window, folding her arms to her chest. She would not look at Trenton. If fun filled her future, she would find it herself.

Trenton climbed in after her and thus began the longest forty five minutes of Bradley's
life. Trenton sat with his eyes forward, Briana never looking from the window. No fault tossed to Briana, Bradley agreed Trenton fucked this night up for the both of him. He fought the urge to pull over, tell Trenton to get out and take Briana on a proper date. She was breathtaking. Trenton astoundingly lucky; astoundingly stupid to treat a bombshell so poorly. Bradley would be on his knees before her every night. Shower her with gifts of affection just to see a smile. No excuse for fucking this up- girls like her do not come around often. Bradley had his fair share of dates with pretty girls, but none matched the essence Briana seemed to have. Whether she overpowered by the ways of the world or undying devotion, she was a rare seed. Still, professionalism at its finest kept his hands clean and when he dropped them off, he would push them far from his mind; as far as possible.

The car slowed to an overabundance of traffic piled outside a hotel overran by flesh
traffic. Bodies of an upper class in and out, dressed in expensive suits and dresses. Anybody who was anybody was here. How these two, with the lack of funds in their possession, found a loophole was beyond his comprehension. Some were just lucky, he guessed. Well, lucky was an oversight. Still, if somehow they found excitement, he wished them the best. Rare to see such a sophisticated collection of noble crowds comprised in a single outing, not to mention the hotel. Tall, windows like stripes covering the walls the caramel siding did not. Architecture creative, thought he was looking at a fortress. Long line of souls stretched a whopping one hundred feet from the entrance. Bradley was unaware so many patricians lived in the metropolis, but here he, a living witness to an eye-opener. Should have guessed, nobility lived everywhere. Even in the countryside he grew up in, he saw his fair share of deep pockets. Always in a nice car, nice clothes and a cultivated look about them.

"Here we are. Have a wonderful night."

"Thank you." Briana not so Neanderthal to disclose acknowledgement to public service,
however monotone it may be. Finally to the point she was pins and needles; maybe it was Trenton letting go of the rope; letting her fall from the precipice as he walked away. Maybe it was her staring back, eyes cut out and a smile stapled to her face. She could laugh at the obscenity that was her life; too far gone to even care her so-called life was flushing down the toilet.

Paused in the parking lot, the hotel came into her view and all of a sudden- she no
longer cared. If this night ended in a train wreck with her dignity the main casualty, she would leave Trenton, drown herself in a motel bathtub where no one could find her. Cried desperately no ball would be dropped- how horribly me wrong she was. Still; in the moment the numbness a symptom of anger. She slaved for a month -a fucking month- for the party. How he could be so careless flipped the switch and electrocuted everything she built. Either way this night went, she was done with Trenton. The ivory tower she tries to build for them he tore down and acted as if it meant nothing. His slave, can only keep the animals caged for so long before they broke out and ripped their captors asunder- was the nature of the beast. Fake a smile as she always did, get one last fuck if she was drunk enough -saying if they somehow come to a miracle- and toss him out like the trash he was. Someone else can baby him like the child he was; she was done.

"Look: if we can somehow have some fun, we should at least try."

Succumbed to relief, Trenton breathed "yes. Let's just hope some miracle happens
tonight."

Ambition to kick him to the curb unperceived, a smile danced across his face. His heart
filled his throat at first, settled to his sternum where it should be. Perfect position to be ripped out and squeezed to the floor. Satisfaction in watching him bleed out like she did so many nights. How she clung to those sheets in tears as he fell asleep on the couch watching pointless television killing whatever brain cells left. High school sweethearts, no future sight could warn her the worst nightmare was the quarterback of the football team. Conformity in fucking a popular girl whose name was on everyone's lips, incurable narcissism infected him. Pissed away any and all chances at a scholarship to go pro, cozied laziness save for gym memberships and the occasional job. A debilitated soul thirsted attention- indolence unable to quench. Trenton played his cards- all the wrong hands; she wielded a royal flush, made her bet- loss in the near future.

"Here's to the future," hummed Briana, blissfully reassured herself going in to the hotel
high spirits the only answer to this madness.
 
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