From Point A to Point BHer face slammed against the desktop roughly. She could feel blood beginning to drip from her nose, but chose to ignore it and instead rhythmically pounded her fists beside her ears. It was only when they were too numb to feel the pain that she stopped.From Point A to Point B by kazumisangel
Meet Lost Friend A, for this is how her mother found her. By that time, the blood had dried and crusted into rusty rivers on her face and on the desk, and her hands had bruised dark indigo. With a tender sigh, Mother wet a towel and mopped up the violence, but not the pain, and placed her daughter in the bed.
Before she left, she picked up that shattered pieces of the picture frame on the floor and placed the print on the dresser, wishing that somehow it could be that simple to pick up the pieces of ones life and move on.
The picture remained on the dresser for days, Lost Friend A not daring to break that sanctity that it showed. When it finally was moved, it was pinned to the ceiling by four thumbtacks above the bed where it wo