She was like a genie entering the room. The light glowed vibrantly, in a mist that fogged up the windows like a warm shower. I knew I was making a mistake by being here but it was worth the chance. The room smelled toxic, but somehow it made me feel like I was worth something more than, “That good girl who never does anything wrong.” I got lost in the smooth jazz as the figure became closer, nealy identifiable in the dust.
“Looks like we got a new girl, don’t we?”, she said surrounding me. I instantly felt trapped in her translucent grips. Her breath whirled into my lungs from a distance and lighted my head like a balloon. I was a ghost, tracing the ceiling like a trapeze artist dancing on a tightrope in front of the roaring crowd. The saxophone sang in my ear telling me to swim out the window into the cold streets. She followed me barefoot dancing on the pavement that I had faced. The bass pounded in my head leaving me wanting more. She followed me the entire way.
People stared at me as if I didn’t belong in their presents, as if they were too good for me. What they didn’t know is that I was on top of the world. I was the fiery center. I was the axis that the Earth sat on. My existence was important. They had no idea. Each time I spoke the wind responded, whistling smoothly around my neck, pulling me down the street. Each step I took the ground responded, bouncing me back up into the grip of the wind. She followed me the entire way.
Under the streetlight she sang to me, ringing in my already crowded ears. The dim gleam from our surroundings shaped her face. She exposed sunken in eyes that were black and eery. Her irises were a vibrant green that glowed even in the dead of night. She used them as flashlights keeping close to the leader she was following, as if it was her destiny. The sound she produced was light and airy on her feet, orchestrating a ballad down the dead city street. She followed me the entire way.
People passed by us and yet we were all alone. We were alone being shoved into benches and buildings down a busy avenue. We were alone on rooftops and in intersections. We were alone on the brooklyn bridge. We were alone together in the trashing grips of a monstrously intimidating city. We were alone on street corners and in alleyways. We were alone and she followed me the entire way.
She had power over my thoughts. I had power over her path. She slithered herself into my brain, pumping words into my lungs through my veins. She took control of my nerves, sending shocks down my spine and whirls in my vision. She swung my body around and smashed me onto the tough, cracked pavement of the city. We were together and we were alone. We were one on the streets. I was powerless. I followed her the entire way.