Red glared all around her, like she was lost in some strange land, her large hazel eyes glaring up at the array of photographs hanging on a line from behind her silver thin rimmed glasses, clothespins holding them stiffly in place. She scratched her filed nails against her arm as a gently face appeared on one of the papers, her little brother Chris showing great craftsmanship on a skateboard as he grinded down a blue rail by school, his shaggy brown hair curling out from under his black helmet, his little but buff and agile body poised like a cat on his Razor Model ‘Birth of Blinky’ skateboard, moments later whipping out against the concrete before standing back up, brushing himself on, and trying again. Thank god for pads. Some things you can’t guard yourself against with pads or a helmet. Quinn Theresa Kimble smiled slightly as her boyfriend Mike’s face began to fade onto the paper. It was a little underexposed, the picture coming out very light. Mike Whitman looked mighty fine in his Football jersey, his muscles twisting against the blue and yellow fabric, his million-dollar smile big and bright, beautiful white teeth shining like her heart did every time he winked at her and smothered her in a kiss, his spiky blonde hair covering his head like blades of grass, his deep blue eyes staring into hers like she was the only one in the world. Every time she looked at him, it made her heart trip over itself, but then there were times when things were rough…like every day. Even though Mike wasn’t in Honors classes, he wasn’t a dumb jock. Mike knew right where to hit her, slap her, kick her, somewhere where she could feel and see the pain but no else would suspect anything. Yet, Mike was such a total gentleman and great person around everyone else, saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ with every breath, opening the door for Quinn, carrying her books, cracking witty jokes, helping every one out, that you’d think he’d be more into acting than sports. Their arguments and fights were quickly remedied with a heated pillow talk, both of the releasing their frustrations through the sweat that licked against their bodies. Usually it was her heart and mind that was hurt, Quinn like a slave, always at his command, always dating where she’s been and where she’s going, but lately, it’s been her ribs and upper arms, round purple lumps rising like a new day against her petite body. Quinn, or QT as some called her, loved him. Mike’s been her everything since 9th grade – that’s 3 years of love, not something you take for granted. Quinn didn’t like how he treated her sometimes, but she’d always come crawling back. Quinn always believes it will get better. He’ll stop getting upset and every little thing and get into a great college. But, the fighting’s been a lot more intense lately, this being their senior year, all this pressure placed upon them to be the perfect couple for their last year in high school, the Homecoming King and Queen, the couple everyone wished they could become. At least they wouldn’t be torn from the outside in with Mike’s actions. Quinn spun her ½ carrot engagement ring with a silver band around her left fingers as more photographs began to develop into the representations of the not very distant past, their colors all shades of red because of the harsh lighting of Quinn’s personal dark room in the basement. 3 years of commitment have produced this lovely ring, not some jeweler. He loved her and he needed to show her that when his hand was too heavy to strike her. Quinn wondered how love could hurt so much as she began to collected the dried photographs and shuffle them into piles before reentering into the dark basement, following a small ray of light to the top of the stairs, the yellow kitchen door facing her. Quinn swiftly exited, a crisp fall day greeting her as she sat down on the steps, silently critiquing her photographs. How could someone so beautiful have such an ugly soul? Quinn wondered, quickly hitting her head lightly to push out that horrible though. She loves Mike. He was her fiancé, her protector, her life. Of course she had a good job at the Movie Theatre and some great friends and a decent family life, but without love, she felt like life was pointless. What was the point of living if you couldn’t share your happiness and life with someone else? Quinn saw a blue Mustang convertible roar like a lion towards her small brick home with a black roof in the outskirts of Annapolis, Quinn rising from the brick steps and swiftly put her photographs in a manilla folder and left them on the wooden kitchen counter. Quinn grabbed Mike’s blue and yellow letterman’s jacket for Football and Lacrosse and draped it over her petite body, pacing toward the front years and around her mom’s black Ford Taurus, her white platform Steve Madden sneakers dancing across damp brown leaves from a large oak tree that guarded over her house like a dog, Mike’s smile gleaming from the drivers’ seat, his cold eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Mike blew a kiss at her as she put on her best smile, opened the car door softly, and stepped in.