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Then there those like me who just want to be numb.” They kept passing it back and forth before Sherry look over at her. “What do you mean by numb!” I started to laugh and stared up at the ceiling again. “Don’t you mean why do i want to be numb.” Becky to a moment then looked into Sherry’s eyes as she did Sherry gave a small nodded. “Well I hope you don’t have to be home soon because this is a long o’tale.” “When I was five my mom died, a drunk driver slammed into her car and Frank my fa…” She took a deep calming breath trying to slow her heart. “My father become depressed and started to pull away from everyone. So I had to learn to take care of myself. Then when I was ten I had got home from school one day to find him in a really bad mood. I don’t even remember what it was about.” Unaware in doing so Becky hand slowly started to rub the right side of her face. “His finally calmed down when he slapped me across face.” Sherry noticed for the first time how sad and dead Becky light. He must have used an entire roll of film on me sitting on that stupid log, and I loved every second of it. Then, suddenly, the water had somewhere to be. It rushed over my feet, shocking me with its newfound energy, and I laughed. I felt something oddly cold on my back, then a rush of water came down the hill, toward my log, toward me. I didn’t move as it rushed over my back, my lap, my hair, soaking me. I simply laughed. He stood there, taking pictures, telling me that I was beautiful, that he’d never seen anything like it, or known anyone like me. He walked into the water, not caring that his worn black shoes were soaking through to his socks, that the water was creeping up his jeans, that we were a mess. He wanted a better picture. He wanted a picture of my laughter, my almost child-like delight, at the fact that I was completely soaked and without a towel. I don’t know what it was about that place. It was in this place that we shared a stolen kiss, murmurs of devotion, a perfect.
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