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Annabelle |
| Written by Ella Fitzpatrick | |
| Saturday, 26 April 2008 | |
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Share it:      Annabelle By Ella Fitzpatrick One It was mesmerizing to watch her. I imagined it like a dance. A ballet, she was the main character. The petite, elegant, light-footed dancer. I watched her from high up. I was leaning over the railings of the upper concrete platform, casually smoking a cigarette. The noise of the nightclub and the buzz of the people around did not distract my gaze. I love the ballet. A strikingly un-stereotypical interest for a man in his early twenties. A few clie’s to start. Soon followed by some twists and twirls with separate characters of the group. She collected a cigarette and a drink before performing a magnificent jete on to the next gang.She had the air of a child, with feet that treaded daintily.I was subtle and yet she noticed me; a good sign. It wasn’t just the boys who pooled around her, the girls did it too. As though her attraction was not sexual. It was a strange attraction that expelled from her. She was not good-looking or sexy in the usual manner. She was better than that. Elevated above all the other girls. A white doll-dress highlighted her uniqueness. She was too good to ****. She was saintly. They all knew it. She stayed in the smoking area for a long time. The one’s who didn’t know her were never too cool to resist her charm: this porcelain doll stranger who speaks to you as if she’s known you for years. She popped inside with some new friends and didn’t return. I waited twenty minutes before following her. Down the old stone steps and inside towards the bar. I scanned the room. Spoke to some girls. Circulated with friends and colleagues. I searched the next room then the dance-floor. Did some business. But to no avail.My ballerina was gone. My perfect candidate had slipped away. ****. “I need a drink,” I told myself. “Whiskey please” I said firmly over the crowd at the bar. They served me immediately. They knew who I was. I drank my whiskey and ordered a pint. “ Is that cider?” asked something small and brunette that had quietly burrowed its way into between my arm and the bar. “It is,” I answered as my ballerina’s big brown gaze met mine. “Make it two?” was her reply carried by a cheeky smile. We sat outside in a quiet area away from the crowds. A big dark brown wooden picnic table appreciated our company. “Your English” she noticed.God forbid she sat on the bench with the mere humans. The saint floated above me on the table. Her legs crossed like an Indian as she smoked my cigarettes.I didn’t mind.She steered the conversation in her own direction. She delicately paddled in the topic of my occupation, not directly, and immediately pulled away from it when she realised I was not willing to divulge information. She tried this a few times. Skilfully. I did not falter. I needed her to understand the secrecy. Needed her to take this seriously. I took a while to enjoy her playfulness. To admire her conversation techniques. To trace the features of her face with my eyes. I took my job very seriously, as did my boss. It’s the reason we were the most successful. And I was certain that my ballerina would know someone with the same occupation as me. I knew she would know many flashy young idiots in it for the glory. The small time ones who never last long; snuffed out by the police or squashed by the competition with bigger friends. She would not find what I did to be a strange or important thing at all, and I needed her to. We were interrupted plenty of times by people who spotted her. Inviting her to after-parties. Offering to buy her drinks. Asking her how her life was. The usual pointless conversation interwoven with private-jokes and general banter. I used this time to notice certain things about her, like how the pint was almost too big for her hand. When she laughed, the others laughed too and how her eye-contact was what they craved. “Really? You know them well like?” she sounded impressed. We were on our own again. “Yeah, grew up wiv’ em” I answered proudly. “The bass player dedicated a song to me on stage once” “Barry’s always doing that” I patronised. She put out her cigarette. “Why are we talking about music?” she said bluntly with a serious tone.She was sharp. Smarter than she looked. I wish I had stopped there. Wish I had answered: “Why? What would you rather talk about kiddo?”……….But I didn’t.
Two
The bathroom of the club was busy. The girls were all frantic. Hairspray cans were being passed around. Beige blotches of make-up were staining the floor. Dust from foundation powder rose into the air. The music from outside pounded through the walls, good music. This club wasn’t like normal ones that played silly chart stuff. Annabelle stood with her handbag lying open in the sink, engaged in conversation with almost every gaggle of girls in the bathroom. She had to answer to an echo of: oh-my-god-where-did-you-get-your-dress?!?!? ‘s. She obliged; as usual she was playful and inviting. Casually and gradually she was handed money from different girls and in return she handed them what looked like individually wrapped chewing gums. She knew how to be discrete. She had to. She was working for the best. Slowly the bathroom began to empty. Just one girl remained, washing her hands. Annabelle: “you don’t want any sweets tonight Jodie?” Jodie was a tall thin black-haired girl. She moved with an awkward confidence, as though she prided herself on being strange. She was beautiful all the same. Jodie: “nah not tonight thanks belle” Annabelle: “how come?” Annabelle faked a slightly hurt look. Jodie: “I’m going for lunch with my parents tomorrow and I don’t wanna be in pieces” Annabelle: “fair enough. Its been a while since you’ve seen them hasn’t it?” Jodie: “few weeks yeah” Annabelle: “looking forward to it?” Jodie: “not really. I’m hoping they don’t wanna come to the house ‘coz it’s a state!” Both girls laughed. Annabelle: “listen, I’ve got these new ones” Jodie’s gaze fastened on Annabelle. Annabelle: “they’re not quite as good as the ones I was selling you before but they’ve literally no affect in the morning, you’re as happy and healthy as always” “Hmmm” Jodie looked thoughtful. She was itching for one so it didn’t take much to sell the idea. Annabelle: “oh and in my experience you don’t chew or grind at all! It’s amazing. Some people never do, regardless. Were just unlucky I guess.” Sold. Annabelle was a master. Jodie: “how much?” Annabelle: “Tenner a pop, but soo worth it, trust me” Jodie: “grand, I may as well double drop” She pulled twenty euro from her bra.Annabelle began to fumble around her bag. Annabelle: “you’re lucky jode, I was saving these for the dj’s” Jodie: “thanks belle”Annabelle took out a chewing gum packet from her bag and pushed two pills out onto Jodie’s palm, then handed her a pint to drink it down with . Annabelle: “It’s gonna be a good night Jodie.”
Three
The man who I paid to design my apartment used a lot of glass brick walls. And no colour. Just two floors of chrome, black and glass brick walls. I should have told him that glass bricks make me feel sick. I listened to the smiths loudly as I dusted every inch of my apartment. When my favourite song of the album came on (no.7 ‘this charming man’) I ran and dusted my favourite place above the plasma TV. That’s what I always did. No-matter where I was. Or even if I wasn’t dusting at the time. Then I stroked my cat, Roy, and asked him how his day was going.
I am violently allergic to nuts. For years I struggled with the temptation to swallow a packet of monkeys. I tortured myself by constantly forbidding them. When I was eighteen I ate an entire bag of natures way assorted nuts. I nearly died. But I didn’t. And I haven’t been tempted since. I answered the door wearing nothing but a pair of old trackies and boxers. Annabelle ruffled my hair with her tiny hands as she floated past me. She danced, as she always did, across my dark shiny floor. Soft skippy footsteps, as though gravity didn’t apply. I said nothing until she came to a rest on my kitchen counter-top (above us mere humans) with one foot up making her knee level with her face and the other swinging back and forth below her. The brunette curls took a moment to settle and stop bouncing, finally coming to rest on her shoulders and collar-bone. “Hey kid” I smiled as I closed the door. She didn’t reply. I leaned back against the opposite counter, facing her. She helped herself to the grapes from the fruit bowl. “Good haul?” I enquired. I was always quite a slender guy, but that’s not the only reason the wad of money nearly winded me after Annabelle tossed it at my chest from her handbag. “Any spares?” I pushed my luck. She took the half grape she was sucking on out of her mouth. “‘Bout twenty” Her nails were painted purple. “Twenty?!…. How’d you make all this then?” She shrugged her shoulders like a toddler.I always knew my ballerina would be perfect. Always knew she’d be a natural, but even I was shocked by this achievement. Her words were scarce that day but her eyes were full of conversation. They filled the silence with their flitting. They soaked in her surroundings. They asked me questions. She wore a pink silk dress with a belt around the middle. The silk flowed. It was like water streaming over her. She continued to eat grapes. Sometimes pieces of her fringe got caught in her eyelashes and moved every time she blinked.Thick dark grey tights clung to her legs. She always covered herself up, never showed much skin. Class. The ballerina shoes lay limp on the floor below her, begging to return to their master. I remember telling myself something that day.
Four My boss told me to keep an eye on her, make sure she was discrete. Watch how she worked. I was glad to do it. I perched in the hideout where we had our first conversation. She didn’t acknowledge me even though she saw me. That night it was slightly darker than most. She dressed in navy. She circulated so that people never came to her. She weaved in and out between the groups making casual conversation. She tipped pills from a mint box and sometimes took money out of their pockets herself. She was always begged to stay after the transaction, but when business was done, she moved on. Her parents were rich. She had told me. She didn’t need the grand amounts of money she was making. She didn’t do it for the glory or cool-factor either. She was doing it because she could. It was a busy night for the club. Annabelle worked for a solid hour. I watched the entire collective mood of the smoking area change dramatically all thanks to tiny little Annabelle. When she was sold out she snook away to join me in our hideout. Front-row seating to watch her masterpiece unfold. Everyone went up and up and up. They floated and smiled. They hugged each other and all became one giant happy drugged family. “Its about time WE enjoyed ourselves” I said as I turned to her. “I’m all out” She replied and sipped on the drink I bought her. “As if we’d take that crap anyway” She looked slightly insulted. “I have better one’s” I explained and took out my wallet. “You look really good tonight,” She said honestly. She wasn’t coming on to me or trying to sweeten me. She just thought out-loud. She was right. I did look good. New skinnies, new blazer, new leather shoes. I always looked sharp, but tonight was exceptional. “Thanks kiddo”…..“Open up” I popped a pill in her mouth from the end of my finger. Her teeth were white and rounded. No jagged ends. Perfectly straight. “These are like nothing you’ve ever had before” As I said it I threw my head back to swallow mine. “We’ll be on a completely different buzz to everyone else” She was always bubbling with conversation to everyone, bursting with words to other people. But not with me. With me she was quiet ever since after our first conversation. She didn’t even need to talk to get me to do what she wanted; if I saw her without a drink in her hand I bought her one. If she was smokeless I light one and passed it to her. I bought her clothes and shoes and jewellery! And I didn’t know why. “Do you feel it?” I asked.She closed her eyes and threw her head back slowly. It rolled a bit on her shoulders, independent of her body. Her neck was exposed, her throat and her collarbone. I watched. “Yep” She answered. “The boss wants to meet you,” I recalled. As I spoke the background behind Annabelle, the old stonewalls and the bushes began to flicker. All hope of coherent speech was lost. The noise of everyone talking increased tempo and my new blazer felt really…. really…. cool. I looked up at the superior Annabelle. She turned to me and opened her eyes. The chocolate brown iris could no longer be seen, just pupil. “I’d like to go make some new friends now” She said in a dazed manner. “Indeed” I answered in the same tone. “As would I” We both wandered out to be welcomed by our family and went our separate ways into the crowd. Don’t **** Annabelle.
Five
“So why haven’t you brought her to meet me yet?” Asked my boss.I didn’t know how to answer him. I simply unloaded vast amounts of cash onto the small round mosaic table in front of him. He took a pull of his cigarette. We sat on garden furniture on his back patio. Next to the swimming pool which made me nervous. We drank whiskey. “This ballerina…. What did you say her name was?”I pulled a blank. There was no point in lying. Her best chance was if I just kept quiet. He dusted crumbs off his knitted red jumper and refilled my drink. I followed the contours of the wrinkles on his leathery face and neck. There was a warm breeze that felt slightly unsettling. “Is she a keeper?” He changed his tactics. “Nah not really boss, she’s only average, you know?” “Then how, do tell, has she made me all this money?”I light a cigarette. “Henry, you do know how much time and money I spend protecting you?” “I do boss,” I answered honestly. “I do that, because you’re good, you’re the best”I met his gaze for the first time since our meeting began. “I wont let you be upstaged by a little girl, there’s no need to feel threatened.” He actually thought I was scared for my job. Idiot. “I know boss” There were a few more moments of silence. Then Boss placed a modest amount of cocaine on the table. “Its time for her to move up.” He stated. “See if she can off-load that.” He sat back in his chair, reeking with condescension as he always did. “Then we’ll take it from there.” He finished. “But what about Sparrow and them? They wont like that.” I tried not to sound concerned, tried to keep my alias of confidence. “They’ll never even suspect her Henry” I did see his point. “She’s a spoilt eighteen year old girl from the suburbs, just a little girl.”I felt slightly reassured. “She’s just what I needed.” He smirked.
Six
“Can I put on some tunes?” Asked Annabelle as she walked along the back of my couch like a gymnast on a beam. “Sure, kid.” She laughed a little bit. “You look like you should be on a cooking show.” She said through the giggles. My apartment is open plan. I was organizing drugs from Boss on the kitchen island from behind which you could see through to the sitting room. I glanced back down at the pills I was arranging into groups and remembered I was wearing an apron. I had to allow myself a laugh. A small wave of panic came over me as the first song of the smiths’ album blared throughout the apartment. ‘****’ I thought. ‘She’s gonna think I’m ******* loopy’ “Hey Annabelle?” I shouted. “Skip to number eight will you?” “No way!” was the spoilt reply. “Well don’t play number seven…. I’m sick of it” “This charming man?! Are you kidding me?!… That’s my favourite one!” “Just don’t play it belle, okay?”I could hear her jumping past track two, three then four. I ran into the sitting room.She deviously stood between the stereo and me. Track number six was playing. I tried to get around her, push her out of the way but she just laughed and fought me, evading my grip. “Belle I mean it!” I tried to sound serious but she was laughing so mischievously that I had to laugh too. We fought and fought, but I dare never hurt Annabelle and eventually it was too late.
Annabelle sat in a heap on the floor, her dress poofed, covering her legs and her giant brown eyes full to the brim with tears. Her convulsions of laughter showed all her perfect teeth as I stood on a chair to dust above the plasma TV. She held her stomach and tried to control herself. “You’re such a freak!” she managed to blurt out in between the fits.I looked down at her and shrugged my shoulders.
Seven
She welcomed the challenge. Prided herself on the achievement of ‘moving up’. It was unusual I’ll admit that the boss had moved her up so fast having not even met her, but nothing I hadn’t expected. I didn’t want this. I was constantly living in fear that she would be hurt. I knew it would be my fault. I hated myself for scouting her. I wanted her to go back to her house, have fun with her little friends, go shopping. Ride her pony on her country estate. I didn’t want her dealing coke in dark corners of a club. She was oblivious to the danger. All she saw was clean, well-off acquaintances handing her piles of money for sweets. She had an alias of understanding. She knew how to be discrete and safe but I don’t think she fully comprehended the disadvantages of the job. I gained some comfort in the knowledge that she was working under Boss’ protection but he knew it was only a matter of time. He was simply getting as much business as he could out of Annabelle as he could before her hour was up.That’s why he moved her up so fast. Maybe if I had brought her to meet him, if he had seen in her what I saw, maybe he would have tried harder to keep her safe. It’s too late now anyway.
Eight
I don’t like living in fear. I like to face them, even just once; like the assorted nuts incident. That night I warned her, told her to leave. Gave her money for a taxi. She didn’t understand though. No one does. One of the biggest fears I have ever had was seeing Annabelle cry. Seeing her hurt or scared. “Go on, get home.” I said. “But you said I could kip on the couch?” She was confused. Could she not see I was behaving irrationally? I have never known so much fear in my life than that night. I had spent most of it in the club watching her again. Thinking about how I’d feel if something were to happen to her. If I was to cause her pain. And I feared it. My hands started to shake. “Go home Belle!” “Henry?”Oh God don’t use my name, I thought. “Henry, what’s wrong?” The fear grew. It rose up me from my feet. My entire body was weak. It was nauseating. Like a pungent stench that I couldn’t escape. Annabelle being there, Annabelle being so perfect only made it worse. She moved closer to me. I closed my eyes. I tried to push the feeling back down. I tried to relax. We were standing facing each other. Her back was to the front door. “I’ll go if you want me to, but are you sure you’re okay?…” Jesus, that was the wrong thing to say Belle; Polite, courteous and considerate. Delivered with assertiveness and rationalism. It was too perfect. When I relive what happened next, I feel as though I wasn’t really there. As though I’m watching myself do it. I don’t regret it. My right hand rose up into the space between us. That same space that I was so adamant on keeping. In one swift movement I hit her across the face with the back of my hand. I’m a strong guy; the business demands it. She fell backwards and to the floor. She was just a poof-ball of pink lace and brunette curls huddled against the back of the door. The fear dripped out of my body, the nauseous feeling crept away. I caught my breath. She was silent but conscious. I sat on the floor next to her and pulled the curls from her face. Closed eyes with shiny tear-streams running the length of her cheeks. She was not scared. She knew the danger had come and gone. As did I. I rested my forehead against the side if hers. My hand was running through her hair. This was the closest I had ever allowed myself to get to her. She was warm. I always knew I had problems, in my head like. I always knew I was mentally ill. I disguised it as best I could. Looking back on it now, I think Belle was the one person who ever understood how my mind works. Either that or she was just really, really forgiving. “You okay?” I asked barely audibly after several minutes of silence. She climbed onto my lap. Her head rested on my chest just below my chin. She knew me better than my best friends. She knew me better than any girl I had ever been *******. She knew me better than my parents. Her tiny hand was grasping a bunch of my jumper like a newborn baby grasps its mother’s finger. I felt her drift off to sleep on me. Her chest moving in and out because of her slow deep breathing and her hand occasionally tightening and loosening around the bundle of wool on my torso was the nicest thing I have ever felt.
Nine
I’m trying my best to describe her. But I don’t feel like I’m doing her justice. One night. Both Annabelle and I were working the usual club.Things were going really well. I already had in excess of two hundred quid profit in my pocket and was buying a blonde girl a drink at the bar. Last I saw her, Annabelle was in the other room surrounded by guys, as usual. I hadn’t got a clue what blondes name was. She was waffling on about music and of-course I joined in with some skilful namedropping. Blonde was playing with my tie as I spoke. This one was in the bag. My night went horribly wrong on the arrival of those first few chords of ‘this charming man’. “****.” I said out loud. “I’ll never make it home on time.” Blonde enquired as to what the **** I was on about but I couldn’t hear her, I could only see her lips move. All I could hear was Morrissey’s voice mocking me. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, I was thinking, my life is over. I tried to ignore the sound of the song, tried not to hear it. I rested my elbows on the bar and held my head in my hands. My fingernails were scraping at my scalp. Only a few seconds had passed before I was rescued. Towards the end of the first verse when things were really starting to look bleak. I had lost the use of all my senses. Remember how I told you she speaks with her eyes? When she found me, she forced her way in between the bar and me. Apparently blonde was not impressed. She slid her hands up my arms until they were protecting my head from my own hands. She looked at me. I opened my eyes and focused on her. Didn’t think about anything else. Just her. I believed her eyes. They told me the truth. They said everything was going to be fine and wanted me to follow them. She took me by the hand outside to our hideout. She never said a word out loud. She pulled me through the crowds like a lifeguard rescuing a drowning person. She sat with me for forty minutes until I had recovered. Annabelle could have spent that time making money or friends or just enjoying herself. Instead she sat in silence with the crazy guy in the dark corner. I felt like as though she knew what was going through my head.But she couldn’t have.
Ten
Sparrow’s face held half a grin as I was escorted into the warehouse. It was a huge dark building surrounded by an industrial estate. The sky was navy with faint speckled stars. I could see it through the smashed dirty windowpanes that were set high in the walls. My footsteps echoed. The man who escorted me was a gentleman. He was polite and straightforward. A man just doing his job. He explained the rules of my abduction in a clear and concise manner. He introduced himself as Jim. I noticed Jims fist was almost bigger than my head. So I followed the rules. There was one big light switched on high up. In my vision there was a giant wooden crate. Its height reached just above my waist. Nested in her dress was Belle sitting atop it. Even during her kidnapping, she still remained elevated above the mortals. Sparrow stood next to the crate. He had a strong dominant stance. His hands were in the pocket of his black suit. I sauntered up with Jim no more than a stride behind me. I stopped of my own accord a few metres in front of the crate. Now that I was closer I could see two more big guys supervising close by.I expelled calmness. Played it completely casual, acted as though I wasn’t worried in the slightest. Annabelle knew the game. “Hey Henry.” She said as though we had just bumped into each other on the street. “Hey kid.” I replied with such confidence that it threw sparrow off a little bit. Annabelle pretended to pay no attention and just examine the split ends in her hair. I chewed my chewing gum. “So what’s all this about then Sparrow?” I asked even though I already knew. “Boss’ shipment coming in tomorrow.” He said. Annabelle hummed a little bit to herself, only I could notice the tremble in her tune. “You know I can’t kill Boss or his blood, Henry.” he began. “So your safe.” He continued. I gave him a nod of acknowledgement. “Tell Boss I want that shipment or else I’m killing the ballerina.”How did he know to call her that?!I knew that it was coming, but to hear it out loud was still a shock. Annabelle remained to appear un-phased. “She’s nothing to do with Boss.” I responded. “Don’t **** me around, Henry. She’s been taking MY business, MY target customers.” Sparrow and I held eye contact for a moment. My entire body was shaking again. I hid it. Inside I was panicking. Havoc was breaking loose in my head. I felt like black oil had leaked into my brain. Slowly it was filling every wrinkle and crevice behind my eyes. I took out my mobile and called Boss. The entire time my gaze remained locked on sparrows. “I want him down here.” Added Sparrow as I heard the dial tone. “Alright Boss?” Was how I greeted him. “I’m down here in the warehouse with Sparrow. He wants to have a chat with you.” “I’ll be right there.” I was told before he hung up the phone. “Let him go Sparrow.” Was how Boss announced his entrance. “You can’t harm my blood.” He was followed in by three of our own goons. “Remember our deal?” Boss continued. Annabelle’s mannerism had deteriorated. She began to get slightly twitchy and was stroking her arms a little bit. As though she was trying to comfort herself. Occasionally, she fumbled around with the pink and white folds of material on her dress. I dared not make eye contact with her or else my whole body would give up around me. When Boss got closer he noticed Annabelle on her throne. “I remember.” Reassured Sparrow. Boss quickly assessed the situation. His eyes flicked from Sparrow to Annabelle and then to me. My silent pleas were so desperate and yet no one could hear them but Boss. Boss could see the black behind my eyes. “The girl for the shipment?” He worked it out. He asked this with a mixture of confusion and relief. Sparrow simply nodded. The moment that came next was sickening. The moment when Boss had power over everything. He was playing God. He had the choice over a life. An amazing life. Everyone stood still. Scattered in random places. The goons all had they’re arms crossed. They knew themselves to simply be bystanders. Silent observers. Heat surrounded me. My ears and temples burned. My breath was heavy and my nostrils widened. I can remember a noise, like TV static only more intense. It got louder and louder. I knew I was imagining it yet it was unbearable. The noise stopped abruptly upon Boss’ intake of breath. Boss shrugged his shoulders. “Kill her.” He said with blatant disregard. The next few minutes happened very slowly for me. I turned my head to Annabelle and watched her float to the floor. Her toes were pointed. Her dress blew up around her like an angel. Sparrow was slow to react. She ran in my direction.I was grappling to get through Boss’ big guys. He must have ordered them to take me with him. He must have known I would not leave. Annabelle allowed the fear to be seen in her face. I was fighting so hard but I couldn’t get through the wall of goons. I couldn’t get to her. Sparrow scooped her with one arm and threw her back on the ground against the crate. She sat heaped and didn’t attempt to run again. Slowly her face moved up, her line of vision rose until her eyes met with mine. They pulled me through the wall, past Jim and to the floor next to her. My hands cupped her face. She stared up at me. My fingers were in her hair at the back of her head and my thumbs were wet with her tears. I kissed her. “Annabelle, don’t worry.” I told her. “You’re gonna be fine, We’re gonna go home andI’m gonna eat a peanut and then We’re gonna **** as we listen to ‘this charming man’ and Roy will have to wait a long time for his dinner because I’ll be busy.”
My forehead rested on hers. I could see the tears on her eyelashes and my own tears splashing and mixing with dust on the ground. It was a very strange thing to say but she kept looking at me, her hands tightened and loosened on my clothes. She sniffled. “I know,” she said, because Annabelle was a higher being and higher beings know much more than us humans. I was hauled away from her.Time began to regain its tempo. I was hysterical at this stage. “BOSS!” I screamed. “BOSS!?!…. Give him the shipment! Make the call! Tell him where it’s docking!” I was still fighting with all my strength. Annabelle watched me get carried away from her bundle on the floor.Her eyes remained clear and staring at me. They got bigger and browner the further away I got. “Boss, he’s gonna kill her!! Boss?!? Don’t you understand?? You have to tell him where to pick up the shipment!!” Boss ignored me and left the warehouse as though I wasn’t there. “Boss don’t you get it?!?!” They had to knock me out to get me into the car. I never saw Annabelle again. I think she knew she was going to die.I think she knew that when I said: “Annabelle, don’t worry. You’re gonna be fine, We’re gonna go home andI’m gonna eat a peanut and then We’re gonna **** as we listen to ‘this charming man’ and Roy will have to wait a long time for his dinner because I’ll be busy.”
What I really meant to say was: I love you. Copyright 2008 Ella Fitzpatrick |
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| Last Updated ( Saturday, 26 April 2008 ) |
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