Being 23
It was the day after they met each other on a date in the country bar down town. He thought she looked like a painting when he saw her through the frosted glass. She wore her long blue and white dress, her hands stretched behind her back in an arch and her eyes looking at him through the gap of the door. He was painting over wallpaper covered in purple flowers. She bent down to pick up her leather bag, noticing her two pink shins with a salt and pepper of freckles and lace up black shoes. “I was just about to go” she said, her hands began reaching for the silver door handle, her bag slid down her arm, pressing into the skin on her wrist. “Would you like to have a coffee?” he said swiftly. “Um…” she paused and said “maybe next time Tish!” and she was gone.
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She walked quickly over the pavement, the sun was hot and it made her skin wet, salty droplets slid gently down her face and she could feel her back weeping. She stopped and sat near the corner where the seats were, a basket of flowers was strung up above her and was swinging as the wind past through, a pigeon with a pink and green metallic neck of feathers tapped its beak on the concreate eating crumbs of bread, she watched him and his orange bead eyes watched her, “No bread here” she whispered. A lady turned to look at her, her plastic bags rustling with yellow bananas and bags of chocolate. She thought about Tish, his pancake batter skin and grey-hollow eyes asking her to have a coffee.
The night after she broke up with Tish she lay under her flower pattern duvet, cars growled and dogs barked, every so often she heard laughter and feminine giggles, beer-drunk shouts and whistles of joy! Tish liked beer, he’d drink 12 cans and then say rubbish things, his mouth smelt like urine and onions, he would then give her sloppy kisses with his swearing mouth. She’d try to ignore him, but that didn’t work. He would get angry, his eyes were like sharp knives. He would shout and pull her hair. The last night he lived with her in their old house, he’d attacked her with hundreds of punches to her arms, back and ribs, her skin then turned blue with blood pooling beneath. That night she ran from the house and called the police on her mobile phone. Her feet were bare and her clothes were wet with tears and sweat, even though it was cold out. When the police came they had to break down the door and forcefully pull Tish into the police car. She let Tish back into her life, for a few months until it was just too much and she felt safe to let him go.
The mirror looked at her, her eyes had small lines in the corners like rivers, her lips appeared uneven and flaky. She remembered being 23 when she met Tish, back then she thought life will start one day, she hadn’t realised life had already begun! She smiled at her reflection while painting red upon her mouth and beige on her pasty cheeks.
