Trio of the Deadliest (my friends)

Three dead-tired bodies sludged into the beat up beige car of the eldest. One drove, one sat via passenger seat, and the other, passed out in the back seat. Legs tucked in and backpack for a pillow, nothing was more worthy of her breath, then that smoky seat. The driver, of age, pulled out her ciggs, and lit one as we drove from the hot parking lot as if the end of a western film.
After, cheap tacos found our money hidden deep in the bowls of our pockets. Then the three of us ventured our way to the never ending rows of corn, stretched out in the rural area known as Little York. The ironic black and white of the beasts made our stomachs gurgle in protest as we passed the smell. Finally, my homestead. The body in the back stirred, too long had the contents in her stomach swayed with the brakes of the car. Needless to say, she stumbled out of the backseat, all five feet of her. The blond with the smoky haze of nicotine wrenched her door open, digging out our bags from the hatch.

Gorey actors belting their hearts in screams to wake the dead slaughtered my television's audio that faithful night.  From the sloth paced zombies, to the cuddly inch long fangs and ivory skin...the movies kept rolling. Vampires often stole the show to the three friends, as we so lovingly paused the tapes on the pure radiance of the fanged actors. Night stole our breaths away as the moon settled in full, but our tyrant night was yet to humble itself. Fumes rich with latex escaped the caps of 97cent paint bottles. Bristled tickled three noses and caked on white, red, and black goo. Faces of childhood monsters merged with ours and we felt our insanity peek into our risky snapshots.

As the dawn approached on the tops of the trees, our faces now washed of the night's painted memories, the three of us dozed away on the sheet less queen. Faces in pillows, foots in faces, and pale arms hugging feet. We awoke to pancakes, our mortality reinstated. We were human, to a point, and we liked it that way.  And with a sigh, the three bodies separated into the vast unknown of the remaining day. The tan beast rumbled alive once more, the blond to drive, the short to sit, and I to remain at the chestnut double wide. With a "Salut!" shouted over creaking gravel, the three had become one. Stumbling in, I prepared myself for the cleaning of memories...along with some photos to edit.

Jaws locked from anticipation, a rather unsure row of knuckles met burgundy wood...just to the left of the outdated Christmas wreath. The trinket of my friendship lay heavy in the thin glass bowl. A creak of the door, two wide eyes, open arms and a smile to make the worry melt. The smallest of our trio welcomed me with an embrace. I paused, not wishing to be rude, and awaited an invite into her house. Old rules still flushed my veins, and she waved me in. Instantly I shoved the glass bowl and bear trinket into her hands, eyebrows shot even further skyward.