The Idiocy of Life (GirlxGirl)

2. Paper Clips

Hi, guys! I see you're back for more!

I know I already posted this chapter but I made some slight changes.

There is a statement a character makes about suicide that I don't agree with, but for the sake of the character, I said it. Please, I apologize.

Thanks again!

2.

She smelt heavily of vanilla. The kind of vanilla that was sweet, yet hauntingly familiar.

I knew that smell from somewhere.

But I couldn't pin it down.

She smelled like heaven.

"What's your name?" I asked, casually, as I pulled the gear shift.

There was a dramatic pause, one that held on for a mere 10 seconds.

"I don't even know anymore," she said it so light heartedly that I didn't pick up on the sorrow.

The light slip in her voice that identified as sorrow.

But all I could think was that she was delirious. Who doesn't know their name?

I gave her a cross look, "Seriously, what your name?"

She let out a low, graveling growl.

Uneasy, I retracted my statement "What do you want me to call you then?"

Another dramatic pause. She rolled her head against the glass window. Her breath created a cloud of fog against the window, the fog smeared across the glass, tainting the window with loss identity.

She pulled back from the window and rose her trembling finger. She spelled out Ruby.

"Ruby?" I said it first like a question. She nodded.

"Ruby," I said again, loving the way it rolled off my lips.

It was so powerful. I thought of gemstone.

The gemstone that was on my mother's engagement ring.

The gemstone in my first pair of earrings.

The blood red gemstone of July.

July was Melody's birthday.

I pushed that aside.

I was expecting her to ask me my name.

Hoping she'd say my name with the same passion as I said hers.

But she didn't.

"What's a pretty gal like you doing in these parts?" her voice was tough, like a soldier in war.

I wanted to tell her.

I wanted to tell her that if I hadn't ran over her I would be dead right.

I wanted to tell her my goal for this night.

I wanted to tell her she was cursed by being the person who was with the deceased the night of the suicide.

But I didn't say any of that.

I merely shrugged, "I just needed some fresh air."

She looked at me conspicuously, her eyebrow raised.

Those eyes. Her eyes held so much that I couldn't see.

"Look at the road," she shouted at me as a deer leaped across the road.

I slammed on my breaks having serious de ja vu.

As I did, there was a clammer in the back seat.

Even though I couldn't see, I heard the gun fall from the bag and hit the back door.

I decided to pretend I didn't hear it, hoping neither would Ruby.

But she did.

Without saying a word she peeked back, and then scoffed.

"Are you some psycho killer?"

She said it with amusement. No hint of fear in her voice.

Either she knew I wasn't a killer or she was just that goddamn brave.

"No," I said, hurriedly.

She smirked, "That's what they all say."

I was beginning to panic under the accusation that I was a murderer.

I mean, I was going to murder someone tonight, but it would only be myself.

"I'm not going to murder you," I retorted, saying it firmly.

She just laughed dryly, "Nah, you're too soft. I slept with a serial killer once, man, it was one night. He pulled a gun on me and I kneed him in the balls, holy cow, that was badass."

She made it sound like it was some fairytale story she was telling. But it had a deep sense of sincerity in it. It was true, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

"Cool," I muttered, uneasily.

"You still didn't tell me why you have a gun," she said, arching her arms behind her back.

I swallowed hard, tears biting at my eyes. I hated crying. I hated looking weak. I hated all of this.

I wiped my face, "I'm going to drop you off at the nearest bus stop."

My voice was obviously rough with suppressed cries.

I gave myself away.

"You're going to kill yourself," she said in a derisive tone.

Her tone was unexpected. It was a tone of mockery and dry humor.

I wanted her to look at me and say 'no, you're worth it' or 'you're strong' or some crappy line like that. I really needed it.

Instead she snarled and said,

"You're such a selfish idiotic tweed," she exclaimed. (I do not agree with this statement) Then she began laughing.

A cold, wheezy laugh.

It was completely acidic.

And totally uncalled for.

"What!" I was quite insulted. You don't call a suicidal teen selfish, idiotic, or a tweed. Infact, it did not help the situation at all.

This girl had no manners.

Or respect.

I wanted to slap her. Or scream at her. Or throw her out of the car. Because she didn't understand.

But I wanted to hear what she had to say.

"I'm not saying you're a complete idiot, but you just aint seeing the whole picture. You see girls like you and I are paper clips. We use and get used every single day-attaching things one gives damn about. Getting bent by people who think we're not good enough. Paper clips are seen as nothing. So, I must ask you a question. How many uses can you come up with for a paper clip?"

She was spouting stupid philosophies that I was not in the mood for. This made absolutely no sense.

"This is stupid."

"Humor me," she sassed back, the smirk growing on her lips.

"I don't know!" I groaned with frustration, "attach papers, pick locks, make bracelets...I don't know"

This was completely stupid. I glowered at her, my knuckles tightening around the steering wheel.

She looked me dead in the eyes and said: