I stood looking at this person that looked a lot like Darren, but at the same time wasn’t her. This person had on a tee with an inscription that read ‘Go f…ck yourself,’ and the black jeans she wore were so distressed they could be quantified as rags. Her face was full of heavy make up and she had black lipstick on. Her blonde hair was all frizzy and hung limply around her face. She looked like a hippie on drugs.
Beneath all that scary look, I knew she was Darren, my girlfriend or ex-girlfriend, the one who left without any explanations. I continued staring at her incredulously. All around me, people began to chant a name and I listened carefully.
“Grizella, Grizella, Grizella!”
Grizella? As in the female version of Godzilla?
I turned to Thelma who seemed to be enjoying the whole a
