In a Round-About Sort of Way

    The red and blue syruppy substance trickled down Stacey's fingers, mingling around her wrist to form a sort of muddy purple, she licked the popsicle contentedly in complete unawares of the turmoil yet to come. Her mother scooped her up into her arms and gave her a big rasberry on the cheek, although she was much to old for this type of behaviour, ten and one half already.

    Three years later Stacey is now Cici and starting to mingle with the "wrong crowed" at school, her parents long drawn drawn out divorce full of deceipt, cheats, and lies, has finally been finalized, her father is now living with a woman named Monica, and her mother with only her transvestite assistant Jewlia and Cici when she wasn't sleeping at a friends house. Things have been tough lately, no one really knows whats going on with the girl who used to love popsicles, even though they made her hands sticky, and who's mother used to give her rasberries on the cheek, even though she was too old for that, and now barely notices shes there, because Leona  Marsh is much to preoccupeide with her ex-husband's sordid love affairs, and playing detective. Boys have started to notice Cici at school, though she hasn't noticed them, she pretends to be more inclined towards the older grade 9 boys from Harshton High, down the road from her middle school, but in reality she is fed up with falsities, and wishes to find something, anything real, be it friendship, love, forgiveness, or empathy.

Four years later Cici is seventeen has stopped believing those things exsist, and is now Stace. She lives with a considerably older boyfriend, and doesn't speak to either of her parents, except to her father in curt one worded sentences when he is giving her her guilt money. she left school years ago, and works at a tattoo shoppe which she hates, she says this is because she wants to become a "real artist" but in truth she doesn't, she doesn't really know what she wants anymore or  if there is anything that she does desire in the realm of posibilty.


The End

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