I wrote this to be mostly like a character overview and it turned into a story a little bit. I’m probably going to change the formatting but please tell me what you think of it!
Parts of Jayne
Feet: pink toe-nails over pale purple dead skin cells. Peach toned skin, just as soft as a peach also (boys died to feel a peach that way). They suffocate in the ocean’s white sand, only her knobby little ankles can breathe, maybe a pink toe or two also.
Legs: too skinny, prickly with goose bumps, hairs like a juvenile porcupine (she shaved them just 3 days ago). Half way up on the right shin a small cut scabbed over and slightly picked at. Knees with no folded skin, no faces of an old man, they were bent slightly, swaying with the wind. Little thighs, with a bruise from unknown incidents lingered among the thousands of tiny goose bumps (boys just died to reach their hands up her leg).
Hips: covered by a wizened baby blue sundress, rimmed with lace, and black nylon fabric weaved in throughout the bottom. Under her sundress, there were little pink cotton bikini panties (boys just died to take them off) also rimmed with innocent white lace. Underneath the layers of clothing was a small butterfly tattoo, just under the edge of her panties, hidden from her parents. Her little butterfly lay on her smooth peachy toned skin, just next to her hip bone that jutted out like a mountain in the middle of the ocean.
Stomach: under the wrinkled blue sundress, just above her virgin hips a small belly button. Perfect, round indented into her soft smooth stomach. Not so smooth as her ribs extruding almost through her skin (boys just died to count the valleys and mountains), piercing her inner flesh, she never felt it; for then she could not breathe. Inside her delicate rib cage, lay her lungs moving up and down, catching her when she falls they inflate, deflate. She keeps breathing.
Chest: just above her smooth, almost too flat of stomach grew small hills of her breasts. Just under her breasts another black nylon fabric strip tied around her back in bunny ears like they teach you in preschool (boys just died to unravel her). Underneath and just above the black ribbon, a soft pink bra, lined with lace (she was not a promiscuous girl or a tease, she enjoyed lace) latched tightly all the way on the third hook.
Shoulders: They sit lazily atop her body, hung over her; she is a puppet. Her bones sink into her body, from the heap of dirt casually tossed onto them, giving them tasks no young girl should deal with, but she does. Tight with knots, (her father is a sailor) they mull around like lazy dogs on a hot afternoon, worthless and good for nothing sores. They are thin, wistful in a way. When she exhales you can see the bones poke through just below her neck. Her skin sunk like loose linen over her bones (boys just died to nuzzle their mouth in the creases of her shoulders). The straps of the little sundress sat listlessly on her shoulders; her right shoulder was slightly drooped down leading the strap to follow in pursuit.
Arms: hang loosely at her sides, loosely as in you could pull her away from her thinking and they would fall right out. She is a tragic girl. Thin little pencils, they were, etched with scars from various none purposeful moments, (sort of like an elementary boy bored with his day, chewing and gnawing at the lead based wooden writing utensil he holds in his dirty nailed fingers.) Off her arms proceed her fingers, little fingers with little nails (pink to match her toes), they were bent casually, not straight, not stiff like a board. In her right hand she held a small rock that had no intension. In her left hand, nothing (boys just died to hold it with much intention). They were quite clammy, possibly from the ocean breeze or from her deep intimate thinking with herself.
Neck: thin and narrow… lovely little neck. (Boys just died to kiss her neck all over). Often times she breathed from her throat, when she was sad or anxious. Her breaths were like cats panting in the summer heat, quick and concise. One could see her small little esophagus move up and down, like she was drinking water, she only drinks air.
Head: Round, but more of an oval, with strands of blonde hair woven in by her older sister, (boys just died to smell and weave their hands in that lovely mess). Wavy, a bit wet too. Wonderful highlights of gold and brunette, with streaks of platinum chopped heavily with seared scissors, radiated from the overcast sun. All of it tied back into a small little pony-tail. Strands hung down in her face, the strands that were too little to reach the back of her head. Positioned high, and slightly jutted forward, it never hung low.
Face: soft, with cheeks of raspberries. A subtle jaw line, (boys just died to caress her jaw line) leading up to little ears, they had no piercings, no diamonds trickling like rain off her. From the side, her profile, some may think she was very young possibl
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