Title: Hodgepodge
Author: grayglube
Summary: Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda
Rating: M

"There comes a time when you look into the mirror and you realize that what you see is all that you will ever be. And then you accept it. Or you kill yourself. Or you stop looking in mirrors."

I.

They grow up together and one day they explore the sump at the end of the block, there's a hole on the side of the chain-link fence the next block over. Someone's hung a tire swing whose rope gave way, the tire leans against a tree and gathers mucky rain water, a breeding pool for mosquitoes in the endless summer season.

It smells like pine trees and sun and sandlot.

They explore the one on their block one day when the older kids are playing basketball down the street. They ride bikes on the well worn dirt bike humps and go crashing off path into tree barks and sharp stones. They find the remnants of a rained on porno mag. Pages stuck together by mud and ink turned blue and yellow from running water blurring the colors.

The inside of her pelvis feels warm, a ball of melting something.

II.

They go to school together and she dies during an after-prom party at his house. It's a fall down the stairs facilitated by Barcardi and some choice pharmaceuticals.

Her up-do is caked hard by hairspray and blood.

Her parents have money, so do his. They settle on a fair price.

But Violet Harmon sits in her prom dress on the steps in the basement, dead, pretty, complaining that her head hurts and he can hear her every time he walks by the basement door.

III.

Moving is tough but it works out alright. Her mom is on tour again and they find a new house. The light is different and so are the beaches and the house is wood instead of steel and she likes it.

She's always wanted an upstairs bedroom. Sliding down the banister is hard work but she likes slipping across the floors in her socks.

The ghosts are okay. Her grandmother used to come around after she died so it's not as if it's a new development.

She's never really had friends. Not really.

Ghosts are lonely too.

They make okay friends. They come and go like cats.