Paige sits on her bed with her laptop in front of her singing a song. Her head is in her hands and her shoulders are shaking with silent sobs. She lifts her head out of her hands long enough to look at the clock to her left. It says 12:05. Suddenly she seems calm.
As the music plays in the background she opens up the dresser with her clock on it and takes out a photo album. Its to dark to see the second object, but it fits nicely into her hand and she sets it down calmly and opens up the photo album. The music keeps on playing in the background as a tear runs down her face and falls onto a picture of her dad pushing her on a swing. She look at the page. This particular page is filled with pictures of her and her dad.
The first picture is a picture taken when Paige was about four or five. In the picture she is wearing a white dress with daisies all over it. She smiling from ear to ear as her hair flies behind her. She's clinging to the rope as she stretches her legs up in the air, wishing to touch the sky. Her dad is holding his arms out behind her in mid push. He's wearing business pants and a white button up shirt, with a tie. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and the mood seems happy.
Paige brushes her hand across her picture, wiping the water away. She swept her hand across the rest of the pictures. None of them are as important as that particular picture. Its the only picture in the whole album with her dad face in it. In all the other pictures, in the place her dads face is supposed to be is one of those happy face stickers you used to get from walmart. Paige remembered how happy she was when she found that picture in her garage while looking for a wrench.
The features of her dad face, of which she had long forgotten, where so bold. In her eyes he was the handsomest man in the world. Her watery blue eyes where the spiting image of his. He had hair on his cheeks and chin that she imagined where prickly and itchy. his cheeks curved inward on the back of his face and his forehead was a bit wrinkled. You could see that his skin had bumps and indents from teen acne. They were clear cause his face was a pale while unlike Paige's tan and freckled face. His hair was a sandy brunette almost blonde color which reflected in Paige.
His very face made the tears come faster and stronger as the music continues to make Paige's movements seem awkward and slow. She sniffs loudly and looks longingly at the picture. Suddenly her eyes flash with anger and she slams the book shut and throws at the wall hard. As the book topples to the ground it falls open to a page.
On that page is a picture of Paige and her mother standing solemnly. Her mothers hair is pulled back into a tight bun. She has a black vain over her head and a beautiful black dress on. Her face is painted in beautiful makeup and she has a blank expression on. Her eyes seems vacant as she stands stiffly with a black rose in her hand. A six year old Paige clings to her mothers gloved hand. Her eyes show she is confused and insecure. She has a steady flow of tears down her face. She has shiny black shoes on with a pretty dress on that looks like its made out of black roses. Her father isn't in the picture.
Paige screams and falls on her stomach. She continues to scream. She kicks her legs and punches the bed until her fist turn red. For once her movements are in time to the music. Paige sits up. Her through is sore from screaming and crying. She walks over over to where the album lays on the floor. She looks at the picture and scratches her mothers face with her index finger. She flips a few pages and its another picture of her in black.
This one was only taken a few years ago. Its of a thirteen year old Paige in a black dress that looks like a sailors uniform. She stands in front of a huge purple sign that reads 'Frankie: Lost but not forgotten.' Her mascara is smeared down her face as she cries once again. In her hands she hold a small black doll in a light purple dress and long curly black hair. She clutching it to her chest and holding her hand over the head as if its her own child. Other people stand around her with the same doll in their hands, but nobody clutches the doll like her. Paige's mom is standing behind her with her hand on Paige's shoulders.
Paige stares at the picture. Frankie was her best friend. She looks over at the little doll on her bed. That little doll is the spitting image of Frankie. Paige remembered the burning hatred she felt for her mother the day she found out Frankie has shot herself. Her mother was a racist. A horrible, evil racist. When Paige invited a black girl to her house her mother yelled. She screamed at Paige for have a friend like Frankie. She yelled at Frankie for being born. Then she through Frankie out and left her to walk home.
The next day Frankie didn't come to school. Paige ran out of her class and right out the front door of the school. She cried as she ran home as fast as she could. She threw open her front door charged into her mothers room and screamed every curse word she could think of at her. Then she broke into tears and yelled her friends name to the heavens.
Paige looks back at the little beam of light coming off her laptop. The music was to fast for her as she walked back over to her bed and snatched up a pad of paper and writes angerly with a pencil. She jerks open her dresser again and grabs out a safely pen. She rips out the piece of paper right out of her note book and pined it to her shirt and the pretty doll in the purple dress at the same time. She reaches over to her laptop and turns the music up as loud as it can go.
She looks down at the object she had taken out of her dresser earlier. She pulled into the light. It was a small black hand gun. It was the same gun that took her best friend away from her. She opened it to make sure it was loaded. Only one bullet missing. She cocked it. Put it to her head. Her other hand went up to her cross necklace and she pulled the trigger.
A loud bang echos through out the night. Only a few second of deadly silence pass as Paige's bedroom door flies open.
"PAIGE,WHATS GOING ON IN HERE!?!" The woman yells still clutching the door handle.
The music still plays and it sings to the woman.
"And when I'm gone just carry on., Don't morn, rejoice everytime you hear the sound of my voice, Just know that I'm looking down on you smiling and I didn't feel a thing, so baby don't feel no pain, just smile back." It sings as she walks slowly towards the body of fifteen year old Paige.
The woman almost screams when she looks down at her daughter laying on the bed, her eyes still open, her hands still clutching the gun and the necklace. She looks at the note on her chest that reads: 'This is what happens to girls like me with moms like you.' She gasps and grabs the pencil on the bed and erases the end so it reads: 'This is what happens to girl like me.'
"I wont be known as a bad mother in the end." She says and lets the piano of the music play her out off the room.
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