Fake freckles

Fake freckles

Smudged eye liner from last night sinks into the skin around my eyes, freckling the delicate skin. My eyelids flutter. The skin beneath my eyes was once clean, fresh, and new. It’s tired skin, I’ll admit. It’s not perfect. I don’t love it all the time, but the mask I paint with charcoal pigment is starting to creep in when I don’t want it to.

I ask myself, how did things get so messed up?

Lights change from red to green. My bare toes on the accelerator push lightly, propelling us forward on the bare road. My brother’s in the passenger seat beside me. His silence fills the car louder than the top 100 song that’s playing on the radio for the ten millionth time.

I know I can’t stand by when someone I love is spiraling down. Saving him is like trying to make my way into a maze that has no end route. I just have to go back the way I came.

I drop him off where he left his car the night before. I speed away.

Where did our trust go?


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