Short story; lost love

Basically--- I was born when Elizabeth decided to step all over my shattered heart and leave me in the middle of the road. I remember looking up at the indigo bolted sky and running my thick fingers through my uncombed hair. I stepped forward and looked down. Something quickly quivered through my veins and a pulse began wavering through my temples. I was flushed with anger at this point. I found it ironic how my girlfriend left me on the day before my birthday since we conquered each other at my little get together years ago.


She was a decent looking woman with long brown hair and razor short bangs. Sometimes Elizabeth would forget to draw on her eyebrows and would simply rest her bangs on her moonstone face. Other times, she would make them quite evident and occasionally frightful. On the night of my party, she decided to accessorize them with gem stones. She came up to me after she drowned in her tequila shot and held my shy hand against her cheek; " You're so lonely behind the house, come join us." I released my hand after quickly brushing her face. She looked upset. I offended her. She started darting her eyes away from me to the crowd, and turned her heels proudly against the pavement. She was embarrassed. The truth is, I don't like it when intoxicated girls want my attention. It reminds me of my mother's cheap perfume and her fancy glass of chardoney.While other boys like my friend Vlad, would love to bask in the flirts, the whispers and the touches of drugged up ladies I rather keep my distance and observe. Vlad would always say ; " You're weird man, why do you never give this a chance?" To which I would respond with a smirk and a slow shake of the head.
Vlad would know what that meant, it was my awnser for almost everything. Almost. When the pale temptress known as Elizabeth darted her heels away from me, I knew right away where this was going but I could not help myself to stare at the scars on her arms.
I quickly lifted my black sunglasses from my bloodshot eyes and held her wrist back. " Stay here." I mumbled almost silently. She turned her head and looked down at our hands. "Well you better be nicer to me then" She asserted, " I don't have time for losers." I motioned for her to come closer and to sit beside me. She quickly hesitated by looking back and then moved. Her shoes had spiderweb designs on the sides and on the back a huge black bow. Her marble legs were never ending and her chipped nail polish added charm. After seating herself on the pavement floor she started to attentively pull her dress a little lower. My eyes were fixed on her auburn scars. " How could someone so beautiful have such pain displayed on themselves?" I asked myself. This question resonated in my head for quite some time but I chose to ignore it for the most part. She became aware of my stare after she was done fixing her outfit and hair. " Do you have a problem?" She snarled at me in a playful way. " Not really.. It's just" I began to choke on my words. I cleared my throat. " It's just they are very distracting." I knew what I said had sounded stupid and juvenile but I had nothing better to say in the heat of the moment. She gazed towards the pavement with a look of sadness and embarrassment. She ran her hands along the bumps and the ancient cuts that marked her. " It's a long story." I eyed her every move. " I have time. " I suddenly became increasingly interested in this new girl and I had no clue as to why. She had a very human presence with all of her flaws displayed publicly as clear as day. She took a deep breath and shook her head slightly after whispering " I rather not talk about it." I budged her foot with my boot and tried to make her smile. I felt like she deserved it. " So how much did you have to drink?" I asked while looking back towards the crowd's crazy chaos. " Oh not much. Just a glass of wine." She joined my eyes while awnsering. I softened my jaw and hated myself for judging her before. We left together that night.

I slammed my door shut after closing all the blinds and throwing my coat on the floor. Today was the worst day of my life and I could feel it in my bones. Every breath I reached for was not enough to tame my anger. Nothing was enough. I glanced over the couch and onto the antique cabinet full of old and preserved alcohol. I contemplated for a moment, a situation involving me drinking myself to sleep. I walked towards the furniture piece and pulled open the door. I ran my fingers through the cobwebs and dust gripping to the lonely bottles. My hand slid up the Jack Daniels and pulled it towards my chest. "Maybe just a little." I grumbled to myself.

I tried standing up hours later but my feet were multiplying and converging into zig zags. I had to restrain myself by holding on to the computer desk, then the lamp and finally to the painting Elizabeth gave me for our anniversary. I looked up at the painting, dazed and drunk and started yelling at the canvas while stumbling on my words. "Fuck you Elizabeth, you might still be in my house but I hate you." I wasn't making sense, thank god nobody was in the house. I started throwing punches at the beautifully framed portrait and it eventually fell to the ground and shattered into a million pieces. "Yeah." I nodded approvingly to the broken mess and passed out on the ground, a happy man.