10 Days to Ruin

R

for the way my

ling as Superman in Smallvill

roll eyes and the bone structure of

ve been so jealous of Lois Lane getting to see Tom Welling naked that my crush on him immediately and violently transferred to a girl crush on her, and then I wouldn't have wante

did cast

amon roll eyes and the bo

get to see him nak

now, I'm cloistered in the men's bathroom at the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art, hyperventilating and bl

g back at me helplessly. Green eyes, auburn hair, punching well above her weight

y reflection. She just mouths the que

jagged, rusted edges, you'd have thought wrong. I just opened up a good two-inch gash in my hurry to slam the stupid t

ice from splurting everywhere. But the blood is starting to we

ches. I don't do grievous wounds

did, you see enough of th

g to my rescue. So with a big, brave inhale,

es with me-that's a nasty cut. If I spend even a m

ead Open On Sink; Funeral Sparsely Attended. Honestly, I'd have to laugh-it would be u

t primarily going back and forth to the Starbucks on the corner. I'm not sure if it's an intern thing, or a rookie hazing thing, or just a Hey, you

the dark, cramped corners of the world, because I know

ut of those corners. Didn't I leave home the first chance I could? Didn't I change my

I did

ery first chance I get to do some rea

famous crime boss and head honcho of the ci

also

engeance. Thus the tears, and the fleeing into the wrong bathroom, and the hyperventilating, and the reminiscing about how To

flection. "You're startin

(albeit only after I bribed her into it). One is starting to come loose, though, and I lost an earring at some point in my fli

y else is here

hi

e as I sprint into the nearest stall, slam the door, and hike my feet up on the toilet so no one s

r creak

t that we're in the men's bathroom, but there's a heavy thump and a kin

um

um

hostage in my lungs and I'm doing the best I can to get my hea

stop right i

a, I can't do this anymore and kissed me on the cheek and took her one duffel bag with h

a fairy princess, my mom would whisper in my ear. She's been hiding out in our wo

s guitar case? That's an angel, she'd tell me. He accidentally fell off a t

est nymphs. Every rat scurrying past on the sidewalk was a poor little

e shoes?

only be

way the charcoal gray pants cuff, ironed to razor-blade perfe

ause the voice those ankles belong to is li

rsh, ice-cold rumble. "Ya khochu

ueaking from the other end of the phone call. The man in the ox

s clear? 'I don't give a fuck. I want you to find h

t follows en

walked in. I can feel sweat beading up on my temples and my armpits. But I just have to hold out a lit

,

t enough to understand, but to

les forms a diamond at the tip of my pointe

ard tile floors with a tiny, a sof

ce fo

... those oxblood sh

devil snarls, "open the do