An old piece of my writing

The air was cold and the sky was grey.
 I’d been sitting in a Paris hotel room for hours listening to music and laying in the silk slip I told myself was appropriate to wear for things other than sleeping since the age of five.

We were there for my dad’s work, but god knows what we were actually doing in that over romanticized city. My stone cold father was off somewhere and my preoccupied mother was whitening her teeth in the bathroom.
I was tall and lanky; my skin was pale and decorated with freckles here and there. My large brown eye matched my long curly locks that met the middle of my back and I had been wearing the same silk slip for two days.
“Hey mom!” I called that about 30 times in the past five minutes; I thought maybe she couldn’t hear me over her Nelly Furtado CD.
I inched closer sliding on my butt across the carpeted floors, “HEY MOM!” …Nothing.
I stood up and walked over to the sliding glass door that lead to the balcony. We were one…two….seven floors up. It was winter and I wasn’t properly dressed but I opened the door anyway.
My bare feet stung once they hit the cold grey cement but I kept going. I shut the door behind me, muffling the music so I could hardly hear my mom’s overplayed CD, I felt free. 
 My freshly painted fingers reached forward to grab onto the rail of the balcony and just as my pink fingers hit I looked down and saw streaks covering my silk slip, it was snowing.
I slowly sat down on the cold floor and looked up. It seemed so beautiful in my negative headspace, it seemed so magical. I picked up the book on the chair next to me “Eleven Minutes” by Paulo Coelho. I read page after page for what seemed like hours.
*BANG BANG BANG* my eardrums pounded to the sound that disturbed my silence
I looked up and saw my mother pounding on the glass giving me that look I knew all too well.
I was screwed.
She ripped open the sliding door “We need to leave get your clothes on… and what are you doing with my book!”
I walked back into the room, my body was numb from the cold but I hadn’t even noticed till now and the negative atmosphere surrounded me again. I got dressed for the dinner me and my mother had been dreading this entire trip but for some reason it didn’t seem so bad anymore, I was still mesmerized by the beauty outside the glass door.
“Just hurry up Madison I know you don’t want to go and you know damn well I don’t want to either.”
I flashed a smile at her, the ones that she hated most because she knew they were in spite of her “ok mom” I said laughing. “What….” She said coldly.
I recited a line from the book that I found on the balcony
“At every moment of our lives, we all have one foot in a fairy tale and the other in the abyss.”

 

To this day I don’t know if it made much sense in that moment, but she looked at me like I was a genius.
 
 
So… yes this is something very different from the typical posts on here but I’ve been working on a short little movie to put up here so in the mean time I thought I’d share another side of me. I Have always wanted to be a writer and I have a collection of pieces so I figured I’d put one up! Let me know if this is something you like, or don’t like… I will be working on better post ideas DONT WORRY!!!
Talk to you guys soon…
-mmbarr xx.
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