rose mcqueen

She was the type of girl who questioned everything. She was the girl you could never get to know. She kept to herself, and never let anyone get close.

"this life" she thought. "this life has no meaning. We'll live then we'll die." She walked along the street, face down. She didn't talk to anyone, she didn't need to. She didn't look at anyone, she didn't need to. Everyday she'd walk to school and wonder 'why, why are there always an odd number of cracks on a sidewalk?' Everyday she counted, and no matter what day it was always odd. She didn't know why she counted, the blocks werent bound to change, and yet everyday there she was, counting. She counted as if, as if if she didn't her world would crumble. The same thing everyday, she never changed, she never wanted to. Rose was just a girl waiting for the end of what she saw as a very long day.

"no way to live this life" her mother had said everyday for the past 12 years. "ever since you were 5" she'd say "ever since, you don't want nothing to do with anything" Rose just nodded her head, barely awknowladging her mothers exsistence. "Rose" her mother'd call "Rose" but too late, she'd be out the door, counting the cracks, just like everyday. Everyday.

At precisely 7:24 she'd reach the bus stop, and the man with the breif case and the woman who wore to much makeup would be there already. Always there. The bus, reached the stop at 7:31 everyday, precisely. And not once, not once was this routine ever altered. At 7:54 she would reach her school, by 7:57 she'd reach the library where she'd skim the fiction section. Same books, nothing new. She walked in and out of her classes, mindless, head down. At lunch she'd eat her same peanut butter sandwhich, and read the same book. 25 times, she counted. The 25^th time shes read this book, and the ending never changed, nor will it ever. Just as this.

No matter how many times you read this story the ending will never change. The girl will never get the boy, the girl wont find her destiny, nor her meaning in life. This girl is just a girl. A girl with a pathetic tale about a boy she fell for and never got. This is a tale of a sorry young woman who never trusted a soul until it was too late. A girl who never tried, or longed for change. This is the tale of Rose Mcqueen.

Rose felt uninspired the day of January 3^rd. It was quite moist outside, and the clouds were hovering and it seemed as if they wouldn't leave. A sigh was the most she could manage that morning before exiting her home. This morning she did not find her mother standing in the kitchen. This morning her mother was not giving her talk about life. No this morning her mother was absent. Rose hardly noticed, she just walked out the front door. The air was crisp and she could feel the cold pressing against her face. She could feel her toes slowly numb and looked at her hands and noticed a pink tinge starting to arise. She shoved them in her pockets quickly. No need to linger. One..two.. three.. four.. five…she stopped suddenly. Six? Six cracks? Rose's back straightened a bit. In the twelve years shes counted these cracks there has never been six. She must have counted wrong, a crack just doesn't appear. Besides there was always five, five! Not six! Rose turned and walked back to the stoop. She began again. One.. two… three. Four… five…she paused again. Six? 'Six cracks.' She thought to herself. 'six cracks.' She began to walk to her stop. 'six cracks' the thought still lingered. Puzzled by this she didn't notice the new boy at the stop, she didn't notice the three sitting on the bench, instead of the two, lazily lounging on the chilly bench. Rose, like every morning took her spot next to the man with the breifcase, not even noticing the curious boy staring right at her.

Like everyday the bus arrived, precisely at 7:31. The bus was buissier than usual this strange morning, so naturally her seat, was taken. Smelly people, she thought, smelly people. She chose a resting place, at the back corner of the bus. The light was flickering, it hurt her eyes. She raised her hood over her eyes and held her breath. Smelly people, she thought, smelly people. Rose didn't like to look at people, people are ugly, she thought. She focused her eyes on the ground, messy, she thought, beautiful, she thought. Her eyes ran up and down the isle, glancing at the chairs covered in artwork by various peoples from across the city. None of it was new, she'd seen it all before. Nothing was new, until she noticed a clump of words, a clump of words that shook her to the core, that threw her off balance on this morning. This morning when her mother, was absent, and there were six cracks instead of five, something happened to Rose. Something that undoubtably changed her, Rose fell.

On this day Rose had fallen both literally, and emotionally. The first of the 2 was the literal, when she fell straight into the arms of the curious boy with the eyes who burrowed a hole straight through the shell that was Rose. Maybe it was the words that had thrown her off balance in the first place, maybe they weakened her defenses so that when she looked into the eyes of this boy on this faithful day she no longer thought people were ugly.

Rose had never felt as unsure as she did at that moment when she looked into the eyes of that curious boy. She didn't like this uncertainty. Infact, she hated it, and thus she stood as quickly as her legs would allow, throwing her off balance again sending her face first flat against the dirty floor. Her belongings scattered creating an uproar of laughter amongst the passengers.

Fuck them.

Fuck them all. She thought, and at the next stop she walked off the bus as quickly as she could, leaving her belongings strewn across the floor. She could feel the passengers watching her walk away, Rose just walked, and walked, and kept walking until her body was numb and she was growing weary. Her knees finally gave when she was walking through a alley, which was deserted with the exception of a few scruffy cats. And It was here that Rose finally felt for the first time in years. It was here that she broke down, and cried. It was here that she got angry and kicked everything in sight throwing consecutive punches at a wall until her knuckles bled. It was here that she laughed like a maniac at how stupid she was acting over a few insignificant cunts. What she did not realize, however, was that the whole time she was acting out, the boy with the curious eyes was watching her cry, and punch, and laugh, wishing to go to her, call to her.

She felt his gaze upon her this time, and through watery eyes she made out the image of what to her was a saint in black sneakers

Rose slowly lifted her head, its heaviness increasing every second. Her neck didn't feel strong enough, she felt faint. She needed to be level, level headed, level minded, level hearted. She told herself to stand, but her legs wouldn't respond. She told herself to move, but her body would not budge For seconds she kneeled as if to pray, not moving, just staring. Neither the boy, nor rose was dropping the other's gaze, neither one moving a muscle. Just watching, waiting. Rose felt her knees begin to prickle, and pain begin to arise, she couldn't move, she was stuck, always stuck. The boy wanted to help; she saw it in his eyes, but he didn't know how. She watched his gaze go from her face, to her wounded knuckles, to the hole in her jeans where he could see some skin reddening from the pressure of her body on her knees.

" Y-you can move," he sputtered louder he'd intended. The volume made Rose jump, and come back to life. Within seconds she was on her feet ready to sprint away.

"Wait! No! N-no please don't go! I-I just want to talk, you… back there I mean… I didn't laugh! I-I the people back there, they don't know anything you just shouldn't let them get to you is-is all…" Rose laughed, and the boy was taken aback.

"You don't know shit" was all she said, her face remaining calm. She didn't smile, or smirk, she didn't look angry or offended, she just shook her head indifferently.

"That's my shit," she said motioning to her mass of papers and miscelanious items, which were shuffled in the bag slung over his shoulder.

"Y-yea I was… I mean I picked it up... I didn't think… I mean I thought you-" sweat was beginning to trickle down his neck, she was making him nervous.

"Yea ok well I'd like it back" she said and made a grab at her bag as she walked by.

"Let me walk you back, you shouldn't be alone you might get lost a-and especially in this weather.." his voice trailed off.

"In this weather what? Even if I let you come with me what good will you be if it rains? Are you gonna hop on me and try to make sure I don't get wet?" the boy began to blush and stutter, but nothing came out except

"Anatlemeasknotw." She looked at him curiously as his face turned a darker shade of red, and made another attempt to retrieve her belongings.

"NO!" he shouted unintentionally yanking the bag away, and once he realized how loud he'd spoken his face began to darken even more, and it soon looked like he wasn't getting enough air. Rose looked catiously at the boy wondering why he was trying so hard to get to her. He didn't even know her. She saw him inhale as his face began to look a more natural color.

"Just give me a name, any name." He said.

"Give me a name and I'll give you your sh-things. It doesn't even have to be a real one…" his eyes were practically pleading for a response. Something about those eyes, they were so deep, so pure, so innocent. Maybe that's why she did it, maybe that's why she didn't just walk away right then and there, things would've been easier if she'd done what her whole body was aching to do. Rose wished she had just simply walked away leaving all the shit behind that she didn't need, but she didn't, she gave him a name, a real name.

"Judy" she said softly, and grabbed her bag leaving a wide-eyed boy with a loosely hung mouth staring as she walked away.