Lolita, darling

So who truly wears the mask? The fool or the fool who follows them?

Lolita, darling

There was one thing you needed to know about her, before anything else. She was beautiful, but inside, she was horrid. She had a hidden talent of being both an enemy and a friend, and quite often no one knew which one was better. Everyone hated her, men adored her, and women wanted to be her.

 

Oh, but what did that prove about how she felt? There had to be something there. She was so beautiful, so how could she be so insecure? She was so lively, so how could she be so dark inside? She sought comfort in the wrong places; she put herself out there like she was going to take over the world one man at a time while stomping other women down with her sparkling high heels.

Lolita, darling, you really rock red,

You should bathe in blood,

You should lick it off your lips.

 

We hated her, loathed her. But we loved it when she was our friend. We could boast to others that she accepted us and we had her approval. We would walk with her down the halls and hold our heads high, like we were the rulers of the universe that served only our Queen, who rocked bright red heels better than anyone.

 

“Beauty is what I am.” She would say. “Beauty is all I know.”

 

Often, when my days were spent wondering why I found so much comfort in her friendship, I started writing down my thoughts, if only to give them sort of clarity.

 

Lolita, darling, you’re like fine China,

You’re delicate,

You’re smooth, sleek…

 

Where was I going with this?

 

Lolita, darling, fine China is the prettiest in the set,

But it is the easiest to break,

Is that what you want to make known?

 

It wasn’t as if she would ever see these words. She could never know that I had her figured out. She was a walking, talking mess; she was every man’s dream and, when we were with her, we felt the same way.

 

The only time men looked at me was when I was with her. I was known as her friend; I had no identity of my own. Why was I ok with that?

 

Really, I wasn’t. But years of pretending to be made it seem real. I willed myself to believe that I was ok with it because I didn’t want to lose her as a friend.

 

That just goes to show, she made me believe something and I wanted to believe it so much that it became my reality.

 

Lolita, darling, you are a nightmare,

Lolita, darling, you are a demon,

Lolita, darling, I am sorry it had to end this way.

 

I wish I could have made it cleaner, her murder. She was too pretty to die in such a ugly pool of red… but she did rock it better than anyone.

 

Damn her for looking even prettier in death than she did in life. Perhaps it was because her mask was gone, and everything she had felt inside was spilled all over the tiles of her bathroom floor.

 

Lolita, darling, with your death… you have given me life.

 

There was one thing you needed to know about her, before anything else. She was beautiful, but inside, she was horrid. She had a hidden talent of being both an enemy and a friend, and quite often no one knew which one was better. Everyone hated her, men adored her, and women wanted to be her.

 

As for me? Well I did the world a favor.

 

Lolita, darling, your mask looks better on me.

Author's Note

Today, I heard a conversation in my mythology class between two freshmen girls. One line spoken is something I won't forget: "I hate her, I literally want to be her."
It inspired me to write this story. Hope you like it!!

Reviews=motivation!

-Mila

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

You create a amazing story.
"Lolita, darling, you’re like fine China,
You’re delicate,
You’re smooth, sleek…"
You create place, vision of beauty and bad situation. Something can tempt us and we have only one way to go. Sadness. Thank you for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote

[Mila]

Thank you!!

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome.

[Justin Robben]

One of the interesting things I found with this short is the way it starts off being told in an almost omniscient way, like a narrator.
Then, it subtly shifts to a "we" point of view, in a fashion...
Then, the murderer herself, in a 1st person pov.

Interesting...

I may have seen the ending coming, as well, once you established that it was the friend unloading on us, but that didn't detract from the overall piece.

I quite enjoyed it.

And the final line is a master stroke.

[Mila]

Thank you!!

[Rachel]

Congratulations on winning the "Scare Me" story contest! As promised, here is your review:

Wow! This was really a good story. The way your described it was haunting and the twist ending was amazing! Please keep up your amazing writing!

[Mila]

Thank you!!

[NanoGigabite]

Woah thats cool yo but I saw the twist coming at the end. I think its an awesome story though

[Mila]

Thank you!!

[Valkyrie Warrior]

Absolutely amazing!!!!!! But a brilliant, haunting, powerful and uniquely written story!!!!!!!!

[Mila]

Thank you!!!! :)

[Valkyrie Warrior]

Your welcome!

[Not here]

This is great and I understand how this goes along with the conversation you overheard. I agree and it is so strange how hating someone can mean wanting to be them

[Mila]

Thank you very much for your kind words!

[Mr_M]

This is brilliant! You are a very talented writer. The links to wearing red in heels and red in death I loved. Very clever and well placed. I loved the pacing and the ending is very well thought out. I take my hat off to you on this piece. Can I help you improve it? I don't think it needs any changes. I hope more people get to read and enjoy this.

[Mila]

Thank you!! :) And yes, I'm always open to suggestions of improvement!

[Lea Walker]

Wow that was an unexpected ending. I really liked it.

[Mila]

Thanks very much!

[Cerise]

Woooow..truthfully didnt expect it to end like that...but i believe we all can relate to it...a wonderful piece it reminded me of preety little liers..:p...well done...an intresting write...:)

[Mila]

Thank you!

[MomzillaNC]

Disturbing and yet poignant.

[Mila]

Thank you!

[MomzillaNC]

yw :)