Juniper sat against the school building, watching the football team practice. She was supposed to be in 5TH period, but made a bold decision to skip the rest of the day. Blood still trickled from her nose, painting her upper lip red.
"The fuck happened to you?"
Looking up, Juniper saw none other than Silus, holding a camera, raising his eyebrow at Juniper's bloody nose. Out of all people, Juniper thought Silus would be the last to swear. "I got my face slammed into a mirror by Lace Hemings," she says dryly as he takes a seat next to her. "Why are you here?" She all but growls. "Well," Silus drawls out. "I wanted to take a picture of you— more specifically, your bloody nose,"
"Dude. That sounds creepy as fuck."
"Yeah, but, like, it looks neat?" Silus tries to justify. "Like, it contrasts the color of the day, because it's so dreary out, and then there's you, with your pale skin and dull clothes, with a bright red bloody nose..." Silus says. "Just— can I take a picture of you or not?" His cheeks are as red as Juniper's nose. She shrugs, and Silus lets out a squee of glee.
Silus turns her jaw so she's looking forward, tilting her face this way ever so slightly and back again. He snapped multiple shots, contorting himself into different positions for the perfect photo.
"SILUS!"
Silus jumps up and looks behind him nervously. "Uh, I'll print this out later, if you come to the cafe tomorrow, I'll show you?" He offers shyly, blushing. Juniper shrugged. "Sure thing, dude." Juniper says, offering a smile. Silus grins awkwardly, and waves, "Uh— B-Bye!" His tone was happy, in the way that sounded like the way a dog's voice would when the received a treat, or some peanut butter. But dogs don't talk. Well, not the animal ones, the football ones do.
The football team begins to finish up, and Juniper decides that now would be the best time to take her leave. Tilting her head back and making it rub slightly against the brick wall, Juniper savored the moment of silence. It was perfect, unaffected by reality, unreal, ethereal, ephemeral.
And then it was gone.
"Yo man, no homo, but your ass looks GREAT in that uniform." One player yelled as they begin to end football practice. Juniper exhaled through her nose tiredly. "Shit," she muttered.
Everything ached. Constant pulling at her heart strings, random pressure in her chest from wanting to cry, slumped shoulders from the weight of the world.
Juniper wanted to get up, but her limbs felt like they were filled with lead.
Tilting her head up to the sky, Juniper stares at the lonely clouds. They were pale, a contrast against the gloomy skies. When everything was filled with doom, just generally unpleasant, they found a way to bring beauty into the world. They blocked out the sun, but sometimes, Juniper thought to herself, that's just what a person needed. A depressed sky, and lonely clouds, together formed the most beautiful picture, unable to be properly contained by a camera. All these thoughts crumpled together in a sad and happy clusterfuck of emotions, but her mind lingered on one word.
"Pale."
—
542 WORDS.
COMPLETED FEB. 24TH
YOU ARE READING
Pale
FantasyAt fourteen years of age and in the middle of her freshman year of high school, Juniper is about as normal as your average Joe. She gets C's and B's in school, isn't necessarily athletic, but can run if she needs to, and never really knew her father...
