She's only Thirteen Your Honor

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She's only Thirteen Your Honor

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She's only Thirteen Your Honor She's only Thirteen Your Honor

Article by: Steven Hunley

Genre: Editorial and Opinion

Houses:

Article by: Steven Hunley

Details

Genre: Editorial and Opinion

Houses:

Summary

A young starlet prepares for a party

Summary

A young starlet prepares for a party

Content

Submitted: October 31, 2009

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Content

Submitted: October 31, 2009

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She’s Only Thirteen Your Honor
By
Steven Hunley
She painted her toenails hot pink and let them dry thoroughly before putting on her mother’s black fish-net stockings which she stole from her drawer. She attached them with the black garter belt. She stood before the full length mirror and checked.It showed only bit of her creamy upper thighs when she bent over.That would never do.So she hiked her tight skirt up a bit.
She painted on her matching hot pink lipstick with care, applied her mascara, checked her hair, then snuck into her sister’s room to snag her I.D.When she returned to the mirror, she checked the image against the one in the mirror.It was a close match.The eyes of a Polish film director whose lenses were clouded with the twin fogs of alcohol and lust would never notice the discrepancies.So that was O.K.
She then took a bottle of her mother’s perfume, sprinkling the last bit of bait on her man-trap.
She looked in the mirror one last time and said to the woman she saw there, “I’ve waited long, too long.Now I’m finally gonna get me some.”
In her mind it was true.She had been thirteen for six days now.Then she grabbed a sweater and ran out the door to a cab.
“Take me to here,” she said, handing him the address of Nicholson’s house.He dropped her off.
He’d seen her in the rear-view mirror in the backseat.She’d been holding up her arm, ‘till her hand hung from her limp wrist, like the neck of a swan.Like she was offering it or something.He couldn’t be sure; it was dark in the back of the cab.But he was sure of what he heard. She must have said it ten times, as if she was memorizing it.It was, “Oh, so you’re the famous film director.I didn’t know you were here. So happy to meet you Roman.”It was an O.K. performance, certainly not one she’d ever get any headlines for.Not now, not Never.
She’s Only Thirteen Your Honor
By
Steven Hunley
She painted her toenails hot pink and let them dry thoroughly before putting on her mother’s black fish-net stockings which she stole from her drawer. She attached them with the black garter belt. She stood before the full length mirror and checked.It showed only bit of her creamy upper thighs when she bent over.That would never do.So she hiked her tight skirt up a bit.
She painted on her matching hot pink lipstick with care, applied her mascara, checked her hair, then snuck into her sister’s room to snag her I.D.When she returned to the mirror, she checked the image against the one in the mirror.It was a close match.The eyes of a Polish film director whose lenses were clouded with the twin fogs of alcohol and lust would never notice the discrepancies.So that was O.K.
She then took a bottle of her mother’s perfume, sprinkling the last bit of bait on her man-trap.
She looked in the mirror one last time and said to the woman she saw there, “I’ve waited long, too long.Now I’m finally gonna get me some.”
In her mind it was true.She had been thirteen for six days now.Then she grabbed a sweater and ran out the door to a cab.
“Take me to here,” she said, handing him the address of Nicholson’s house.He dropped her off.
He’d seen her in the rear-view mirror in the backseat.She’d been holding up her arm, ‘till her hand hung from her limp wrist, like the neck of a swan.Like she was offering it or something.He couldn’t be sure; it was dark in the back of the cab.But he was sure of what he heard. She must have said it ten times, as if she was memorizing it.It was, “Oh, so you’re the famous film director.I didn’t know you were here. So happy to meet you Roman.”It was an O.K. performance, certainly not one she’d ever get any headlines for.Not now, not Never.
Hot Teenage Vampire Love
By
Steven Hunley
Johnny Alucard saw her on the first day of school at Hollywood High.She was all blond and perfect.Perfect nose, perfect eyes, perfect all-the-rest.She noticed him too.Pale skin,dark glasses, coal-black hair.This was his introduction to that school, having just transferred there from Transylvania Tech. So he was the New Kid.And it was worse than that.He was falling in love with a girl who wasn’t a vampire.She wasn’t even Gothic.She was a cheerleader, the head cheerleader.
She was one of those sort that were always voted “Miss Popular”.These kinds of girls are fringies as much as boy vampires.Their fringe is just on the opposite side of the cloth.So they made an unlikely pair; he with his pale skin and coal-black hair, she all dark tan and blond, both of them fringies in their own private way.
He sat right behind her in history.She sat only a row from him in math.They lived only a block away from each other so it was inevitable they’d hook up, no matter what anybody else said, which was a lot.
At lunch her friends would group around her and say,
“Why is he so pale?Why doesn’t he get some sun?”
“Why is he so serious all the time?”
“Is that a Gothic look?Or does he think he’s a vampire or something?”
“You know how vampires are,” they’d all say together, “they suck!” then all laugh their heads off.
None of them believed in vampires including her.A vampire’s strength lies in the fact people don’t believe in them.
His parents were completely agai


© Copyright 2016 Steven Hunley. All rights reserved.

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