By Brandi Atkerson Townsend
Sarah was a nubile
angel painted in tones of tan and beige.
She had eyes like a cat; hazel and almond shaped.
Her skin was light bronze; a sculptor's fantasy.
She was the epitome of teenage beauty
A young boy's dream.
When Chris saw
her, he no longer had eyes for me.
The morning after the dance,
The dance where he kissed me and told me he loved only me,
He arrived on the campus of my high school.
red roses, wrapped 'round in green paper.
Clenched in his long-fingered hands.
He was dressed as a true gentleman; suit and tie.
Would he ask me to wear his ring?
We walked out into
the bright sunlight of a perfect California day,
my brutal friend Sarah and I.
Chris's face lit up at the sight of us leaving the theatre class
I thought the world brightened for me.
I blushed, redfaced at his beaming countenance.
The roses were handed to Sarah, my brutal friend,
As the drama class looked on the scene and laughed.
They thought, "how hilarious!"
That the grotesque outcast of the school
Was outcast again
By A Brutal Friend.