Chapter 2 - the fiction of an orphan

Kristen leveled her body out of her open window. Her white skin was filled in with the blue light of the moon. She swayed back and forth on her torso playing with goodbye. She imagined her parents waking up and going into her room. They would find her curtains blowing in the wind and when they looked out their heart would drop into their feet. Their little girls brains would stain their deck.

 

   Maybe it was the silent middle of the night wind that signaled the world was asleep or maybe it was her last thought but Kristen was suddenly covered in goosebumps. She shook them off and held onto the frame of her window. She lifted her body forward and hung upside down.

 

   Kristen had been crying. She felt stuck out side her mind in a world that was crowded with shit and nothings. A vast wasteland of zombie life. Education. Job. Marriage. Baby. Divorce. Dating. Hate. Death. Education. Job. Marriage. Baby. Divorce. Dating. Hate. Death. Education. Job. Marriage. Baby. Divorce. Dating. Hate. Death. The cookie cutter construction line of living in the middle of America. Sure there were the variations but we can just call those the BBQ flavor or limited edition. Nothing special. Life is life.

 

  She was trapped.

  

  Kristen....

 

  This is your life Kristen. Kill high school go to KU on a full ride get your bachelors in pharmacy then go to an Ivy for your masters then Harvard for PHd. Settle down with the college sweetheart, pop out 2 kids Chelsea and Garret, try not to get divorced. Shape kids to be little Kristens. Retire at 65. Die. Die. Die. Die. Every generation.

 

  Kristen hung with her feet straight above her and she swayed more cautiously. Her stomach was in her throat and every sway was slightly spastic to stay balanced. With a jut of extrusion Kristen dropped herself back into her room. Her hands were still on the window sill and she just stood there.

 

  The blinds hung crooked at the top of the window. Kristen grabbed onto the strings and again leaned herself out the open glass. Her arms stretched with the pull of the strings behind her making her body form into a structural swan, arching her back with her arms high behind her she dropped her held back head to her breasts. She looked below her at the glass tables and wood of the deck. She brought up her feet to the sill forming into a crouch and she tilted more out the window. The strings restrained more and tightened. She pulled herself balance with the window again. Always watching the deck. It was a good 10 feet she reasoned. Her being a little more then 5 feet it would be an easy 3ish jump with her arms extended hanging from the frame.

 

  Kristen turned herself around and hopped back into her moonlit room.  She paced her rug a few times pulling her hair from her face in contemplation. She then turned to the crumbled up paper on her floor and stuck it in her pocket. She grabbed the sides of the frames with her hands to stabilize herself as she lifted herself onto the sill. Without a second thought she turned herself to face the room. Looking through a glass window at her happy days of a childhood room of memories. Dropped the weight of her body on her locked arms and dropped that weight on her finger that held her from falling. She let go and let the impact of the fall be small. When her feet hit the floor she hit the ground running.

 

 

That was 5 years ago. Since then Kristens mom died of cancer, and her died is now in hospice.

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