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Oct 2017
i open my eyes and realize that its about the same as closing my eyes, because the hotel room is pitch black except for two little red dots gleaming from the dvd player or something. i think about when you came back from the bathroom, arriving at the table with a smirk on your face, because you thought you were so slick and sly when really you looked stupid because your lipstick was smudged, and when i told you, you wiped it off and said i must have accidentally wiped my face, which was the dumbest possible excuse, because if that had actually happened, you would have probably been looking in the mirror and been able to fix it before you returned, and i knew this, and cora knew this, and you knew that we knew it, and so your expression changed rapidly, and you looked so ******* pathetic, and the whole thing was so humiliating. the room is getting more clear, and everything is covered by this navy haze, and i can barely make out the dark edges of, well, i don't know exactly what, but the one thing i can see for sure is the glossy highlights of the small bottles of tequila and ***** and beer that are resting on the minibar. then i think of when you first left the table, and you said i need to go to the bathroom, and then greg went too, like five minutes later, and cora and i shared an awkward glance, because we knew that this was a plan you two had set up, so that you could meet up and make out or even ****, and so we were silent for a long time and then we would bring up the bad service once in a while and say we were hungry, when really we just wanted to not be alone together and having to look at each other while you guys were making out or probably ******* at this point in the bathroom, and then the food came and we just looked down at it because we had nothing else to say. and now the room is much much clearer, and the hue is a much lighter blue, and i can make out distinct shapes like the tv monitor and the windows and curtains and the desk and i can even sorta see the labels of the bottles on the minibar. it was again like five minutes after you had come back, and the whole lipstick fiasco had happened, that greg came back, according to your plan, and by that time we were all looking down at our food, and i had the mushroom risotto, and cora had the halibut, and you and greg both had the rack of lamb, but greg wasn't looking down at his food, because he thought that no one knew, and he had that same stupid smirk on his face, because he was probably thinking of how good and hard he had just ****** you, and all i could think of was how much of a fool you made me look, and how i should say something biting under my breath at the table, or on the car ride home, but i never did. and now i still have the urge to get my payback, but you're asleep and you probably wouldn't hear, and what's the point anyway, and the room is so grotesquely clear, and it's as if it's the bright of day, and i can make out every little detail on the wallpaper and the carpet and the stupid wall artwork and that ******* minibar, and i don't have the strength to cry or even get angry, and my whole body just feels sweaty and numb under these hot sheets, and i just want to end this feeling, and so the two red dots are the last thing i focus on before i close my eyes.
Written by
Henry Koskoff  16/M
(16/M)   
717
 
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