A Passing Thought of God
The light breeze blew by, ruffling the girl's dark hair, blowing a loose strand across her pale face as she held the decaying cigarette to her lips with trembling fingers. Her mascara was smeared and trailed from her eyes in black lines that accented her face. Trying as best she could to withhold the tears, she inhaled the smoke as her breath quivered. Exhaling a shaking breath she wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her black and grey striped hoodie. A dab of wet mascara clung to the worn fabric as she pulled her hand away from her face.
As another tear rolled down her cheek the girl sensed someone else approaching the park bench she was sitting at. Trying to hide her embarrassment, she turned her face away, hoping that incoming passerby would walk on, ignoring her plight. With a fresh gust of wind, the stranger's footsteps grew audible. The footsteps sounded light and cheerful to her, reminding her of feelings long since passed in her own bleak existence. Ignoring the curious urge to look up and study the stranger, the girl stared solidly at the ground, breaking her focus only to tap the ash off her remaining cigarette.
"You look like you could use another one of those," the stranger's voice, that of a girl, spoke.
"I guess I could," the girl on the bench cleared her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie again as she looked up at the intruder.
"Here," the strange girl reached into the pocket of the tight-fitting red coat that accented her breasts, "I've gotcha. My name is Dabria, you look like you could use a friend."
"Thanks," mumbled the girl as she managed a shaky smile in reply to Dabria's unexpected kindness, "I suppose I could."
"So, what should I call you?" Dabria cocked her head to one side with a smile as she stared down at the miserable girl huddled on the bench, watching her light the fresh cigarette.
"I don't give out my name to strangers, even kind ones." the girl muttered, "My last name is Mills though. Just call me Ms. Mills."
"Interesting," Dabria pulled a cigarette from the pack for herself before sitting down on the bench next to Ms. Mills, "I guess you can't be too careful these days, right?"
Ms. Mills paused before giving a reply as she stared at Dabria. Dabria was tall, wearing clothes designed to show off her natural feminine beauty. Her orange hair hung down against the white fur collar of the red jacket, complementing the pale freckles of her cheeks that surrounded piercing green eyes. Her designer jeans hugged her hips tightly, portraying a level of awareness and confidence that Ms. Mills felt she could only dream of.
Lighting her cigarette, Dabria studied Ms. Mills intently, her green eyes glittering with hidden intent behind the haze of fresh smoke that poured from her thin lips, curled into a slightly amused smile.
"What are you smiling at?" Ms. Mills asked meekly.
"I was just thinking about how I used to be like you," Dabria replied, breaking her gaze and looking out across the park, "I've been where you are."
"I don't believe you," Ms. Mills felt her voice quiver despite her best efforts, "There's no way you've been where I am now."
"Friendless and alone?" Dabria raised an eyebrow as she looked back at Ms. Mills, "Without hope?"
"That's actually pretty accurate," Ms. Mills whispered, averting her gaze as she dragged the cigarette.
"I know," Dabria smiled, "But don't worry, I know how to stop all the pain."
"I can't kill myself," Ms. Mills mumbled, "If that's what you were going to suggest."
Dabria threw her head back and laughed, the curls of her hair bouncing around her face, "Oh, no, honey. I wasn't going to suggest that. Going out without a bang is far too easy."
"Then what were you going to suggest?" Ms. Mills shifted her position to face Dabria head-on, "Tell me, I want to know."
"I've got something for you that will make everything better," Dabria gave Ms. Mills a sweet smile, "You'll be able to look them in the eye again."
"The people at school?"
"Yes."
"What is it?"
"Just let me give it to you, and you'll see."
"I don't know," Ms. Mills scooted back from Dabria slightly in apprehension, "This sounds sketchy."
Dabria smiled warmly at Ms. Mills, "Just give me your arm. It's going to be worth it, I promise."
Hesitantly Ms. Mills outstretched her arm, shaking slightly with fear as Dabria gently grasped her wrist.
"Slide up your sleeve," Dabria smiled at Ms. Mills again, "It's all going to be fine now."
Wordlessly, Ms. Mills did as she was told, allowing Dabria to run her fingers across the exposed flesh of her arm.
"Ah, perfect," Dabria said withdrawing a capped syringe filled with brown fluid from her jacket, "Now hold still, dear."
"What is that?" Ms. Mills began to panic, "What are you trying to put in me?"
"Just trust me," Dabria said soothingly, "I promise you won't regret this."
"I don't know…" Ms. Mills trailed off as Dabria stuck the needle in her arm, "I don't…"
"See?" Dabria withdrew the now empty syringe from Ms. Mills' arm, "All better now, right?"
The expression on Ms. Mills' face was quickly changing from one of pain to one of hazy pleasure, "Oh, wow…" she whispered, "You were right…"
"I told you, honey." Dabria smiled lovingly, "Now you'll never have to worry about them being able to hurt you again."
"Is that heroin?" Ms. Mills asked in a dreamy tone, "Is this what it feels like to be happy?"
"Yes," Dabria replied as she tossed the used syringe away into the grass before dragging the cigarette, "Now you can be happy forever."
"Thank you," the cigarette butt slipped from Ms. Mills' fingers as her head began to nod, "I feel so sleepy though."
"It's ok," Dabria stood up from the bench, putting a hand on Ms. Mill's shoulder, "Sleep now, everything will be ok from now on."
"Do you promise?"
"I do," Dabria inhaled from the remaining cigarette before continuing, "Suicide is overrated. If you're going to go, you might as well take them all with you."
"What?..." Ms. Mills trailed off, trying to hold her concentration in the haze of euphoria, "What do you mean?"
"Nothing important," Dabria smiled vaguely, "It's time for me to go."
"Who are you?" Ms. Mills murmured, "Are you an angel sent from hell?"
"No," Dabria chuckled, bending down to lightly kiss the unconscious Ms. Mills' forehead before she turned to leave, "Remember, you're simply a passing thought of god."