A middle class, Victorian era house with a red door and bay windows. The top floor bay window. Sheer white curtains. An empty vodka bottle stands on the dressing table, a heap of clothes cover the floor. the wooden floor, littered with these clothes and a torn condom wrapper. The bed. Lying on this bed, sleeping, is a pale, dark haired girl. Her hair hasn't been washed for two days. The remnants of last nights make up still decorate her face. She breathes slowly, in and out. Her mobile sits on her bedside table, abandoned.
Beep beep beep!
Effy opened her eyes wearily. That was all she felt these days: weary. She could see her mobile flashing, greeting her with a new text message. Slowly sitting up, she looked around her bedroom. It was pale white. She liked white. It was a non-descript colour, it didn't attract much attention but it had the amazing power to just make a room look bigger. It was an enigma.
Like her, although she wasn't aware of it.
She reached out for her mobile, knowing exactly who it was going to be. The screen lit up as she pressed a random button. His name was there, just as she'd expected.
She smiled faintly. Her heart always managed to skip a little more everytime she thought of him. But she couldn't allow this to be known. Wearing your heart on your sleeve is dangerous. Love comes across as a happy, pretty thing, but Effy felt it wasn't worth it. Love could hurt you. It could tear you 'd seen it with her own eyes. But Freddie.. Freddie made her feel as if it wasn't as bad as it was. He was intense, loving, protective. He could protect her from pain, if she let him.
Can't wait to see you today. Be at yours in five minutes. I love you x
He was always so hopeful, he always tried so hard. She knew her erratic and at times unpredictable behaviour upset him. And she hated herself for it. But he stayed with her, something she could hardly comprehend. She sometimes worried he was staying with her out of duty. She didn't understand why anyone would want to be with her. Love tears you apart. Why would anyone want to risk that?
Effy sits on the bed, reading over her text messages. Back from the bed, back along the floor, past the littered floor of clothes and torn condom wrapper. Back through the sheer white curtains and back into the street. A tall, dark haired boy of about eighteen. He's facing the house, looking up at her bedroom window. In his right hand is his skateboard. In his left is his mobile.
(I've never done this before so I'm sorry if its bad!)