Stop. And Go

I • (Trying) •

:::

        Slinging an arm over Madeline's shoulder, Tina yelled over a terrible (but passionate) karaoke rendition of Whitney Houston's 'I Wanna Dance With Somebody', "I'm so happy you came out with us tonight."

Madeline couldn't help but to laugh at Tina's overtly drunken affections. She had to admit it was fun seeing Tina like this—the usually timid, shy girl.

          With wide eyes, Tina suddenly grabbed hold of Madeline's neck, "Oh my God—I know what I'm gonna sing."

"You're gonna go up there?" Madeline chuckled in disbelief.

"You're lookin at a choir girl right here—of course I'm gonna go up there!"

         It was strange seeing her friends like this—free, and happy. They spent most of their time studying, which was what had initially drawn Madeline to them.

Most often than not, Madeline felt out of place. She struggled to fit into their little circle; oftentimes too loud, or quite frankly, too stupid.

Despite Madeline's insecurities, Tina and Gloria did everything in their power to make her feel part of the group.

They were nice girls. A little odd and nerdy, which was something Madeline didn't have a lot of experience with, and Madeline had experience with a lot of things.

        Not very long ago, Madeline wouldn't have given them the time of day. Not because she was conceited, nor that she believed she was better than them, (by any means) but because it was so plainly obvious they had nothing in common.

They were savant scholars, valedictorians, and ancient Egyptian enthusiasts, (with a slight obsession over The Great Library of Alexandria - specifically the years 200 - 300 B.C.)

        On the contrary, Madeline's heavy baggage had made her a socialite. It also made her rebellious, and reckless. The loss of her Father had stifled her ability to grow-up, in a sense. She was exhausted from depriving herself from feeling anything.

Which worked... until it didn't.

Her infallible coping skills had turned out to be ineffective. It was the reason she had become a recluse; the reason she was the only sober person in the bar.

        Observing her drunk friends, Madeline could almost make sense of how it had happened to her.

...almost.

         Life would never be as it was, but at least Madeline was trying. She was out with friends, and even though she wasn't drinking, she could finally tolerate being around people that were.

Even if it meant overanalyzing every man in the crowd, she was prepared for any scenario imaginable as she watched them.

Madeline was trying, but it wasn't good enough. She still wasn't able to travel alone at night, or face herself in the mirror without clothes, or even fall asleep with the lights off.

Despite her best efforts, Madeline was tired.

         As the lights began to dim, a familiar tune started to play.

Looking toward the stage, Madeline saw Tina with a mic in one hand, and a drink in the other, "'Life is a mystery—everyone must stand alone, I hear you call my name, and it feels like... home.'"

Laughing from second-hand embarrassment, Madeline shook her head. She was glad to see her friend so happy, but then again, she resented the responsibility of getting her home safely, which resorted to her feeling guilty.