“These boots were made for ass-kicking,” she told me over coffee one day.
Black ringed her eyes in smudges, but the intensity of her gaze wasn’t brought on by the make-up. She may have only been 18, but the mocking look was anything but teenage angst. “Maybe not kicking ass in general, but definitely kicking some specific asses.” Laughing, she amended her statement.
I had already heard about her picture perfect childhood, her A+ grades, and then the crash that happenned when she had reached the end of her rope. She had gotten tired of playing the good girl and living up to the expectations and had gone her own way. Leaving behind everything she knew in the search for what she knew was missing in her soul. She said she hadn’t found it yet, but that she knew she was getting there. She had seen the change coming, and she had decided to ride the wave of revolution to take her one more link down her own evolution. Her tales of loves and friends lost had been typical – she admited as much – but she wasn’t interested in finding someone to complete her. She knew she was like salt to earth, and that only the hardy would survive. Some would call her toxic, but I just shrugged and admitted the difference. Afterall, I was rather fond of salt and had a tendency to kill plants myself.
Boots, Miss Me "Monet."
Inspired by "She's a Rebel" by Green Day from the album American Idiot, 2004.