Save me from myself.
I smiled as the sensation hit me. My arms dropped, and so did the syringe. Mixed feelings of relaxation, happiness and hungriness. I pushed myself up out of the battered armchair and started to walk towards the kitchen. I didn't have a clue who's house I was in, just some randomer where there happened to be a house party. Every night I was out, and every night a different house. I staggered towards the kitchen, when I got grabbed by my wrist. I pulled my head up to see who it was. Some averagely good looking boy. He was also on something, I could tell by his eyes. My vision was pretty hazy, but I could still make most things out. "Wanna go upstairs?" he asked, a grin on his face. He was about seventeen, and had dark black hair. I smiled back. "Yeah. Al right." Now, please wait before you judge me. Get to know me first. My names Bianca and I'm sixteen. So its legal, and I'm not doing it because I'm a slag. I'm actually a virgin. I've tried again and again, but every-time I have, I end up too scared, and I run. I might sound like the type who has it every night. But your mistaken if you think that. Yeah, I get drunk, I get high, I smoke and I go to clubs and house party's. Doesn't mean I'm a whore. He pulled me up the stairs, both of us nearly tripping as we went. Maybe this was the night. I would finally lose it. It made me sad that it wasn't with someone that could make it really special. Some weed fell out of my pocket, and I bent down to pick it up. I had quite a lot, I could afford it. My parents. My Mom's a lawyer, Dad's a Managing director of Coca-Cola. So yeah, I had it made. None of them knew about my 'nights out'. They think I'm packed off in Neilson Heights Private School, about half an hour away from where I am now. I do go there sometimes, when I cannot be bothered with a night out. Which is hardly ever. We made it into the bedroom and he pulled me close to him, and kissed me on the cheek. My eyebrows narrowed. Was that it? He looked at me and smiled. "I've saw you a few times before, and heard about you. I don't want to do anything to make you run away." I looked straight in his eyes. They were serious, and they stared right into mine. A smile creeped onto my lips. "So, I'm Jason." he tried to start a conversation. I continued it. "Bianca." he smiled and sat on the bed, gesturing for me to sit next to him. I accepted, and sank into the bed next to him. We talked for an hour before he produced some weed. He made his-self a spliff and then offered it to me. I refused, and got out my own. He grinned. "Your my sort of girl." I blushed. I smoked until I couldn't see where I was going. But before I passed out, I heard a few words. "Read the note." then I slipped unconscious.
God it was cold. My eyelids flicked open and I found myself in a bedroom. It usually took me a few minutes to remember what happened last night. Then Jason came back. And his last words. 'Read the note." I stumbled to my feet, and a little piece of paper dropped to the floor. I realised it must be the note. I picked it up and gazed at the words. "37 Redwood Lane, 8pm tomorrow. That, will be the night." I smirked at the words, and folded it up neatly and placed it in my jeans pocket. I made my way out of the house, seeing unconscious bodies lying everywhere, empty drink bottles, condom wrappers and general rubbish. The fresh air hit me, and the bright sun beamed down. Hangovers were non-existent to me. My pockets were completely empty except from Jason's note. Shit. I lost my weed, and I had about £50 pound in there. All gone. I needed some more, so decided to head to the one place I could get money. Home.
So there you go.
It is a bit short :/
I really wanted to start a new story, so here it is.
And by the way, THIS IS NOT BASED ON MY LIFE. PLEASE DO NOT SEND ME FRANKS NUMBER. I DO NOT NEED IT. Glad I cleared that up :}
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