It was dingy, dark, and scentless. It was quiet, until someone sighed into the dim light. A girl in a tattered dress, that may have been peach at some point held the hand of a boy in ripped jeans, and they both wore matching scabs.
They lay side by side, looking for bunny rabbits and giraffes in the peeling paint of the ceiling.
“Did you see that?” he giggled,
“Yeah…” she sighed.
“Wish we could move like that”,
“Like something exploding, under water… BOOM”
“But I guess it wouldn’t make a sound under water, huh?”
“’Member that time we fucked?”
“Maybe we oughta do it under water…”
“Yeah just like that… haha, one needle, two needles, three needles… more” Giggling.
“I-I need another” Shaking.
“Shut the fu-…” Gasping.
“That’s what I thought…”
“We should fucking kill Bill,”
“Yeah, that dick-bag hobo downstairs. The fucker stole my cigarette”.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“There’s no more left, huh?”
They lay side by side, under the peeling paint, in the dingy, abandoned, apartment, on top of a mattress full of bed-bugs, covered in needles, and they dreamed of Giraffe’s and Bunny Rabbits. The air was smoky, and smelled sour.
His high, empty, giggles echoed through humid air.
And then she died.