Thursday, March 09, 2006

Lightpost Girl

Lightpost Girl

There is this girl underneath a light post in one of the streets I pass by everytime I go home from work. Just standing ther and waiting. Waiting for someone to pick her up so she could spend the night in a nice motel room.

Her pretty face thick with make-up -- dark eyeshadows, red lips and rosy cheeks. Sometimes, she puts on her contact lenses to enhance her empty eyes.

Her eyes filled with regret and blank glances. They say that the eyes are the window of a soul. And if you look beyond those regrets and blank glances, you will see an empty soul.

Her eyes will tell you that she regrets on doing what she is doing right now. Giving her body to man she barely knows just to earn some money to feed the kids. She had big breasts, but she feels little inside. No one feels the same.

She remembered the times when she was 11 years old. The time when she was filled with dreams and ambitions. Back then, she said she wanted to be doctor. And she taught being a girl was the most wonderful thing. At the age of 16, she liked how the boys drool over her. She was the Prom Queen and boys -- even lesbos -- ran after her. She liked flicking her hair, walking along the hallways of their building, displaying her long legs for the world to see. She was every man's dreams and every girl's nightmare.

But five years after, she did not have a clue that she will be under that light post waiting for a stranger to pick her up. All her dreams just fade away.

Oftentimes, I will catch her smoking her cigarettes. Though I know she was only pretending that she knows how to smoke. Coz everytime her lungs will be filled with the smoke, she would cough.

She thinks of love she knew. It was not long enough since the father of her kids left him with nothing. With no words, she found him gone in the morning. She gave up everything just to be with him. And in return, he gave her up. And one night she thought: what's a girl to do when a guy leaves her? I am not gonna cry. I may not have the money, but I can survive with my pretty face just like what I did back in college. She insisted that she can make it on her own.

That is why she is standing underneath the light post every other night. And if she gets lucky, the guy who picked her up will give her enough money for her and her kids to survive for two days.

There are nights when no one will pick her up. She will put out her cigar with her four-inch heels. She will smile to herself as her eyes begins to well up. It is hard to pretend to be happy when you are dying inside. She walks home -- swallowed by the darkness in her avenue of broken dreams. She have big breasts, but she feels little inside.

Sometimes, I feel the same.


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