CARTER, Sloane T

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sloane tiffany . twenty-one . darien, connecticut . flight attendant ____________________________________________ ____________________________________________ sight: the beginning of crow's feet, ice cubes melting in golden liquid, soft eyes, thin lips, a shirt covered in grease. smell: cologne. sometimes i'll catch the same smell while walking down the aisle in the grocery store, wafting off a stranger. i've spent days at sephora, sticking my nose to bottles and trying to figure out what he wore. touch: a prickly face, strong arms, strong hands. hear: shouting at my mother in the kitchen, the firmness of his voice disappearing when he addressed me, his slight lisp. memory: my mother always forbade me from talking about my father. he left and hurt her, it was something she truly never got over. she was very bitter towards men and swore off them when my dad left. when i was fifteen i decided to google him and i found my grandmother's facebook. it took me a month to get the guts to talk to her and i sort of wish i hadn't. she invited me down to hartford and over a cup of tea she told me that my father had killed himself three years prior, five years after he left us. i remember feeling this immense emptiness, which was followed by a wave of tears. i never told my mom. ____________________________________________ ____________________________________________ "selfish. cunt. whorefaced. cumdumpster. a few of the words that come to mind when i think of sloane carter. listen, i know we were too young to make life decisions. i know now that it was stupid to even ask her, but she was so damn convincing.. i was so convinced that she was in love with me. but she was just cheap and lying. and jesus i was in love with her. she's the whole nine yards or whatever that saying it. quick, gorgeous, hot, that body, smart. too smart, a liar. when we got engaged, love was all sloane could talk about. she would start the day with an 'i love you' and end it with the same. she would leave love notes on my locker and paid for an ad in the local newspaper which asked me to prom. she was all about the wedding planning. my mom said at her shower that she was all smiles and excited. there was no indication of cold feet, she never seemed.. not with it. but yet, when the day came katie came down the aisle instead of sloane. the note said, 'i need solitude. i need space. i need air.' then she flew off to fucking thailand. selfish whorefaced cunt." ryan westwood ____________________________________________

ciara , carmella , resident