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im just another white girl going through life without clothes on DM for what I do   contact@maiviedemonat.com 

          
Mark M A I V I E D E M O N A T

It’s the first state I visit where they have so many dam flags’, she says while kicking one hard over ‘DEAD’, she yells and finishes up the attack.

We are walking next to each other on a dusty path that follows the backyards of rather big suburb houses. I haven’t said a word for around an hour or so, nothing new. I wish we will reach campus soon. The older guy at the gas station had told us that this should be the shortest way from town. There was something suspicious about him if you ask me.
‘You find every man suspicious’ she had careless replied.
I look anxiously towards the windows of the house as the flag bows and looses its ability to stand straight again.

‘Dead’ she laughs and continues ahead in a hiking movement. I can almost hear the crack of the next one and throw an frozen look over my shoulder. Did someone just peak out from behind the curtains?

‘It is also the first state I visit where private guns are a common part of the interior’ I think to myself. Sally doesn’t seem to have noticed my flicking eyes. She giggles as she kicks yet a flag over;

‘Dead. Dead. Dead.’ she scouts out boyish. I grab her thin lower arm harder than I had intended to;

‘Stop it’ I say in a demanding voice; ‘Stop it, alright.’

‘huh huh, someones itchy today’ she replies freeing her arm in a fiercely manner. It obviously did hurt. She runs a few steps in front of me. I wish to reach her hand and brush away the red mark I just left. But I don’t dare. Instead I give her a light patch on the shoulder. She shakes it off and run a few meter further ahead. I glance back on the curtains. Its an abandoned house I convince myself. The parking lot is empty, the grass long and wild, and the flags, the ones still alive, bleached by the sun. The flags could easily represent another countries; how I wish, how I wish. I shake my head lightly. She has continued her walking. Her steps reveal that she has already forgiven me. That’s her nature. I shake my head. I’m lucky; we are lucky. Until now everything has went as planned, and within a few weeks, exactly twenty-three days, ten hours and eleven minutes, we have managed to change identity; new names, new hair, new phones. Without leaving the country we couldn’t be any further away from where it happened.

We have successfully managed to enroll in a summer-course at a university so unknown that the only application requirement was name and age. We sent it by mail a late Wednesday evening and already next morning we had the confirmation: ‘We are happy to announce that your application was successful accepted.  We are happy to invite you to take part…’. She read the mail aloud while childish brushing her teeth, spitting down her shirt, making sounds she knew I hated. But that morning I didn’t care. I was so thrilled. We were on our way, away. Soon we are able to begin our new life. Our only life (...)
Mark SHE'S MINE