Her Smile

She wasn't like everyone else. You could tell by the way she carried herself.
I, unlike most people, enjoy family get-togethers. Laughing, joking, smiling. And don't forget the food! Dear God...the food.

I was standing in the kitchen, snacking on small pieces of fudge, and also snacking on pieces of conversation when P asked me if I wanted to join her outside for a cigarette. I agreed, getting some air and some cancer would be nice. It was a little stuffy inside after all. (I didn't know you could fit so many people in that damn house.)

P is younger than I am and probably one of the prettiest girls I know. I'm not technically related to her, although it feels like it.
She's the burden in the family and I know how that feels.

"I'm so fucking wasted," she shared her not-so-secret with me. You could tell she was drunk, if not on something as well. Oh Jesus. "I drank like eight beers and smoked four bowls before I came. Can you blame me though? I fuckin hate family shit."

She reminded me of myself, like four years ago. She's younger than me, but not by much. She's 17, I'm 20. The maturity was drastic though, and I hate to say it. I don't like to claim being mature, but I am for the most part. I don't ever realize how grown up I am until I'm around someone so immature that I wanna slap them in the face.
She smiled at me but it wasn't a real smile. She's been faking a smile probably her whole life. It was almost as bad as her grandma's funeral:

"Becki, I hate this. I hate being adopted. I never belong."

That was about a month back. And here she was, fucked up, smoking a cigarette, saying vulgar and rude things about her family behind their backs. Everyone found it offensive.

"She's just so disrespectful."
"She's so rude."
"Who does she think she is?"

I think I understand her more than anyone else. And if someone does try to understand her, they just get pissed off and give up.

She paints. She draws. She creates.
And then she destroys, she cries, she leaves.
She leaves before someone can leave her.

I wish I could have told her that I understood before she left.
I wish I could have been more of her friend.