A Violet in New York CityMature

Violet and Brady began with picturesque perfection. However, after two years together, they fell apart. Drugs ripped apart their life together. Read as they fight their feelings with a thousand miles separating them.


There I sat in the midday sunlight, letting it warm me up. It was almost breezy, which wasn't bad after the bitch summer we had. Hot and sticky since June, what else can I expect though? In a city with over two million people, summer couldn't be pleasant.

Someone, a nice older lady from my building, had noticed me writing while I waited for my laundry to finish drying. She struck up a conversation and recommended that if I ever got stuck to visit this little park. She told me that she always took her grandkids there and it helped her to think.

Sitting there, in a park that closely resembled the one back home, notebook in one hand and my signature orange pen in the other, I thought about him. I missed him so much more than I wanted to. My creative flow was on pause, so in lieu of actually writing something, I absent-mindedly doodled his name a dozen times.

Ever have that feeling that your body is distinctly and physically somewhere but your mind is halfway to somewhere else? That's how I felt, sitting on a bench watching kids run around the park. I half-heard the swings' chains creaking coupled with the sound of sneakers pounding against the plastic of the jungle gym while children's laughs, yells and calls echoed through the summer air. However, I was also lost in another place, another time and in another town. I was far away from the park. I was sitting next to him, smiling at him while he stroked my cheek. But that was a long time ago.



Ah, memories. Nothing like nostalgic flashbacks to get the emotions flowing again. It'd been damn near two months since Violet and I had spilt. A year prior to that no one would've guessed where the two of us would end up, or that we'd be apart when we ended up there, especially the two of us. Shit, was she beautiful and I'm being one hundred percent truthful. Not that truth means much when it comes from a guy like me. But back to Vi. Wow. You can't buy girls as beautiful as her, and she was just seventeen. Yeah, sure, nowadays I've got myself a hot little squeeze, but Lana's just one in a million stars, whose sparkle pales in comparison to Violet's glowing moonlight. Plus, there are only two things that make Lana sparkle at all. One, her spectacular physique and two, the good shit that she supplies me as long as I stick around. Yep, a druggie will do just about anything, or anyone, to score. But, hey, I'm not complaining.

However, Lana's personality is…well, lacking. She goes from zero to Bitch with a capital B, in sixty seconds flat. Almost the moment she steps into our trailer she's on my case about everything. When she's not a frigid ice queen perched on her pedestal, she's a ravenous lioness in heat with eyes only for me. Hard to believe she's just eighteen, hard to believe I'm eighteen too. I'd be lying if I said that every time I've been with Lana I'm not thinking about the sweet beautiful Violet that used to belong to me.

The End

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