Aspen shut her eyes. The breath was snatched from her lungs as quickly as the train that whipped by in one swift motion, voom. The oh so familiar wrenching pain filled her gut, an iron fist clenched her heart with no mercy. Her rapid breathing made her feel lightheaded; high in a way. The pain felt like the strongest drug coursing through her veins; powerful, bittersweet in the best and worse way possible. Most avoid pain like poison, but Aspen welcomed it with open arms, relaxing her beaten body and submitting to the turbulent waves of feelings. She let the tears drip drop drip down her cheeks and pit pat plop down onto her worn cardigan, turning the light lavender into a deep dark and delicious plum purple. Aspen let her shoulders fall, the weight of the world slipping and sliding off of them like ice cream sliding off a slice of her grandmother’s warm apple pie. Fighting the pain takes away the precious pleasure and only leaves peril, but letting the pain consume you for a short while is as sweet as candy, as addictive as coke, and as paralyzingly perfect as a climax. As Aspen came down from her high, the sun peaked back into her eyes, the wind returned her steady breaths, and she finally... opened.... her eyes.