When I was thirteen my friend offered me a cigarette.
Originally i wasn’t going to take it because of cancer sticks or what the **** it was they were teaching us in school but then I thought about the pretty skinny girls in movies.
How they would lean against a wall a white stick between their boney fingers, their smudged eyeliner from the night before, smoke escaping from their perfectly painted red lips.
Mysterious was the word a man in one of the movies had once said.
The girl was sad because she didn’t feel pretty so she drank a lot and smoked a lot and cried a lot, at the end of the movie she killed herself, I don’t really remember the name of the movie but i do remember the girl and how i wanted to be like her, not the suicide part but the sad mysterious type.

*The beautiful kind that men fell in love with.