everybody wants me dead but i just wanna be left alone

680 21 16
                                    

[Kids - the frights]

[01]

        Music and intoxicated teenage life poured from under every little door and window in the house. LEDs and dollar store projectors casted fluorescent hues all over the walls and ceilings, seemingly masking the mess that's found it's way all over the linoleum floor. Drunken kids moved from group to group, flapping their tongues and raging about anything and everything to get their hit of gossip and drama. Small town kids grasp at anything they can to ease their boredom, no matter how grotesque or disgusting it might be- It tends to seem like more of some kind of show to them. Some get sad, others pissed beyond belief- but ultimately they'll all move onto whatever story or rumour comes to light next. 

        In a far corner, just out of the way of the rest of the bustling life stood a bickering pair; You, and your slightly inebriated friend. 

        "Vic, can we please just go?" You begged, sweaty, shaking hands, gripping onto hers as if it'd cost your your life to let go. 

        "No!" She scoffed, buzzed flush painted over her cheeks. "You can do whatever you want, but I'm not gonna let you ruin the one night I get to have fun." She tore her hand away, and without a second thought turned away, letting herself disappear into the horde. In a second, she'd forgotten all about you-- attention ensnared by all of the voices not bitching about dipping early.  

        With a shaky sigh, you back yourself further into the corner, your only company now being a gallery of happy family photos displayed on the wall. Holding yourself, you look around- ensure of what to do. You can't go into the crowd and just start speaking with people-- you don't know them, not really. And those that knew you didn't care enough to give you a second glance. You can barely correct a waiter on your order without being sent into a pathetic panic attack for the next five minutes-- but sure go ahead and actually talk to your peers, see how far that gets you.

        You could check your phone, but since midnight struck it's been blowing up with notifications and alerts of new assignments, emails regarding your embarrassing abundance of missing work, and the states college board pestering you about your life after your high school career ends. The thought itself invites an all too familiar pressure building in your head. Scoldings from your mom, lectures spat out by teacher and councilors all echo in your head, over and over again. You fear the future, yet some idealistic voice in the back of your head eases you into believing that you'll never actually leave home-- that you'll never have to get a real job or begin 'you're new phase in life.' 

        So now what do you do?

        You sit there. Like an idiot, too scared to even sway in place in fear of drawing too much attention to yourself, in fear of everyone's eyes snapping to you all at once. So you stay still, staring at the laughing crowds, envy burning inside of you-- wishing you could be like them for even a second. 

        An abrupt, distinct notification reaches your ears, vibrating in your pocket. Knowing who it is by his seemingly always impeccable timing alone, you dig out your phone, switching it on. As you suspected, your lockscreen is flooded. You try to ignore them, eagerly pressing on the alert and opening up the app and racing to type out a response.

----------------NEW MESSAGE----------------

|3 £ |\|
hey, everything goin good over there :?

[username]
eh

|3 £ |\|
eh?

[username]
i can't really complain 
i really wanna go home tho :/

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙶𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚜Wo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt