il·lu·sion

noun

1. a deceptive appearance or impression.

"She begun to wonder if all they ever had was one sick twisted illusion."

synonyms: Lie

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The back Hefty garbage bag's heavy weight  had her struggling a bit as she carried it towards the dumpsters in the ally near her home. The neighborhood was dim and an eerie feeling coursed through the block. Finally, she entered the gated square around the green rusting dumpster. 

Holding her breath, she pushed open the black plastic lid to the wide bin and sighed as she threw the bag into the bin, it rattling before calming. With that she discards the thoughts of what was in there. Ashes of cigarettes, beer bottles, maybe expired milk cartons dating last month. A pile of torn papers from school. She steps backwards. The soles of her shoes clapped against the pavement as she made her way home. The putrid smell of the garbage bin seemed as if it were following her home. 

Soon she realized it wasn't the smell of the garbage bin trailing her. It was a different aroma. She turned on her heels to face a woman. She more a dirty knit hat and scarf. A brown coat rested on her shoulders and she wore ripped jeans. 

"H-hello?" stuttered the woman. 

She had kind blue eyes and parched lips which formed a small smile. 

"May I assist you?" Clementine asked. She tried desperately to not sound hash but bitterness found its way stitched into her words. 

"I was wondering if you knew someone by the name of Leroy?" she asked. 

Clementine answered 'No'. Like she always did every Thursday and Sunday when the woman passed her, looking for her grandson. It was honestly no use. There are millions of people in the world named 'Leroy', it would be impossible to find him, if her grandson was even still alive that is. Once someone is gone, it is possible they aren't coming back. A possibility that this woman doesn't seem to get through her head. The fragile woman then smiled in returned and turned to leave. 

As always, Clementine turned and continued her own path. The steps came into view after a few short minutes and she instantly felt herself starting to get lost in though once more. 

Five knocks

Two taps

One swipe. 

She finally opens the door to her mother grabbing another beer from the fridge, ignoring her presence. Like always, because here, things don't stop repeating. Clementine would be holed up in her room just thinking, her mother would get drunk and smoke as if it were a rinse and repeat cycle, and the poor woman with the kind blue eyes would walk around the block and ask for any sightings of a missing boy named Leroy. 

A rinse and repeat cycle or in other words, 

The life of a girl stuck in her own time, her own world. 

The life of a girl named Clementine. 

♡ Chapter End♡

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☆"He who permits himself to tell a lie once, finds it easier to do it a second time."- Thomas Jefferson☆