Template:It was my birthday...[]
<It was my birthday...
March 13, 2004
It was my eighteen birthday and the first time I drank alcohol. It was my birthday gift... Wait, why am I telling you this? Did you ask me, or did I just want to tell you? I can´t recall- either way you are going to hear me whether you like it or not. It was my birthday, and I was drinking, and a blue boy was walking around the block, and he stopped me. I think he told me something along the lines: "Ma´am, you are disturbing public property... you have to leave." and I responded to him with: "Sir, I don’t think so, I didn’t do anything at all. I know I’m drinking, but I am not yelling or fighting anyone-" He interrupted me and said: "I think people think otherwise." He pulled me from my left arm towards his police car and then I started to pull away, I was more freaked out than angry at that time. I can even recall all the times I told him to let me go because I was scared. Alcohol? Wrong management? Definitely. He yelled at me to stop using force. Did I even try to hit him? My momma always taught me to keep my mouth shut when a police officer was stopping me. I think I didn’t follow through with that. Fuck. Would she be angry?... I don’t know. Was I even angry because he was pulling me around like a rag doll. I do remember him slamming by body to the trunk of his car. He was going to arrest. But I was so scared that I started to react anxiously. I kicked him, stabbed his arms with my nails and nothing. He kept... pushing, pinning me to the car.
But he made his first mistake.
. . . Letting me fall to the ground. The car was leaking oil, and the speed of the fall mixed up with the friction of the oil ripped off my skin to the core. I looked horrifying... I was always told I was a beauty among my neighborhood. Guys wanted to take me out, and girl either wanted to be me or be with me. I preferred girls over boys. How did I get there? Sorry, I always get mixed up like the oil in my skin. Sorry, wrong joke. Perfect timing thought.
. . . The second mistake was leaving me there to rotten til the next morning. It was midnight, right? I think so, because the next day a random girl discovered my body in the middle of the street, thought it wasn’t a discovery because I was already there, like the "taínos" in Puerto Rico. Sorry, again. I like throwing jokes around. I’m right though. She called the police and once they got there I disappeared in thin air. But it wasn’t that, I just got up and left. How? I do not know. It’s weird. I got up, but I was still on the crime scene.
. . . That same day when night fell. I was walking around on the same street; it was my birthday. I was drinking, a blue guy was walking beside me and stopped me. He told me my momma was looking for me, that she was worried. I told him that I couldn’t go back home. He got even more worried and asked me if I was in danger, I responded: "I was. But one of your blue guys took care of me really quickly, he hid my body inside a dumpster." He looked at me cold and told me to stop playing games and to stop drinking. I told him I wasn’t lying, and he responded with a question: "In which dumpster is your body then, prankster?" Prankster?... Ja, nice name for a ghost. I pointed at the alley to right between some apartments. He turned pale as I pointed and he walked towards the alley and once he got there, he opened the dumpster. There it was. My body all rotten, made a corpse. I do get to say that even though I was disgusted. Worms were poking out of my mouth... how sweet. I stood behind him and when he felt my presence he turned around just to faint in horror.
I do get to say that I loved his terrified eyes. It looked beautifully horrible, and I endured it.
What did he see you ask? . . . Do you want to see it? . . . Turn around then.
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