"The old you wouldn't have your hair down like that, or accepted these flowers from Andrew," she looked at the card and smirked, "because you always say a guy that brings you flowers must not be able to afford anything good."
And so on it went. She laid out my transgressions like an itchy blanket at my feet and all I wanted to do was throw it off and tear out of the room. But I was immobilized, not only by this useless body that betrayed me, but also the overwhelming shock and chagrin that was currently wracking my body.
The girl they were talking about couldn't possibly be me.After a while, I slinked down into the ammonia scented sheets and pretended to still listen, but I was really in a world all my own. I stared up at the dragonflies and tried to imagine this vain girl that still loved stickers of a fragile little flying insect. I tried to imagine someone who would snub a gift someone brought her while fawning over a fashionable ponytail.