Dry, chapped and weathered, my painful purple lips made me forget to use the Oxford comma I've come to know and love. Over the course of three weeks, my once bright red lips had turned into a dark violet color like a bruise that is continually aggravated.
It had all started with a Kiss. For years I had dreamed about the moment I would be able to kiss Becky Jean. The moment it happened I knew that nothing would ever top our two sets of lips coming together. But that didn't stop me from chasing that moment.
Kissing booths, making out with strangers, shocking my lips with electricity -- none of these options could bring the same spark to my life and lips that Becky Jean had.
To try to cover my obsession that was now more of a fetish, I began trying to use extra strength lip balm. It didn't work. I moved onto healing balms that promised immediate relief. While the swelling went down, there was no relief, and still no replacement for Becky Jean.
If only there was a way to get to Becky Jean. Who knows, maybe she's still alive, but I haven't heard from her in months. Her mother stated to the police that after her vacation to Hawaii she was sad, lonely, and in a bad place. Two weeks later she left all of her belongings behind and disappeared into the night.
Becky Jean won't be bringing a spark to anyone's lips anytime soon, at least not in the same way she had before. After all, how good is a set of lips if you're too dead to use them?
Sorry for the extremely dark freewrite today. I came up with the first line when thinking of the topic and this is what came out. Thanks for reading!
This freewrite is based on the prompt "dry lips," and part of the @mariannewest's daily freewriting challenge.
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