I'm Astrid Hofferson

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Chapter 1: I'm Astrid Hofferson
Berk High
Astrid POV:
My vans clicked on the hard, glassy floors of Berk High School, as I walked to my locker. I had on a tight pair of light, ripped jean shorts, with a light blue crop top. My long hair was down and curly, my hair overunning the stacks of books in my arms.
I took a big deep breath and stopped in my tracks, as I closed my eyes and looked up. I knew it was coming, my drug addiction effects.
I gulped and opened my eyes back up, running to my locker. I reached the blue, metal locker and did my combination. I slammed my locker door open and grabbed my bookbag, shoving my books inside.
My head began to spiral, and my vision got blurry. I began to pant and my sweat was getting extensive. I bent over and took a bigger breath. I needed to refill my drugs, I needed more or I would never get over the pain.
I rubbed my sweat on my forehead when someone grabbed my waist, running their hands up to my breasts. "Hey babe!" He said and turned me around waving his hands in the air. "What Sean?" I asked and he extended his hand on my locker door, smirking at me. "In a rush for my love?" He asks and I rolled my eyes, grabbing my phone and airpods. I slammed my locker door shut and looked at him. "Not today, puckypie. Ask Heather," I winked and patted his chest and walked away.
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair as I ran out the doors of my school.
Sex may make me feel a lot better half the time...maybe all the time, but right now I needed to get home to get more oxycodone for my body. I bursted through the doors of my school, and ran to my car. But before I could get in, I felt a certain rush go up my throat.
I held my mouth and ran over to a bush, emptying the contents of my tummy into the ground. I held my stomach and then wiped my mouth when I was done. I took a few deep breaths before walking back to my Jeep.
"I need the drugs," I whispered and slammed on the ignition as I sped off to my house.
The Hofferson Mansion
Astrid POV:
I parked my Jeep and slammed the door shut as I ran up the stairs to my huge home. I opened the door, only to be met by my furious parents.
"No time for your guys crap today, I'm sick," I lied and walked past them, only to have my arm jerked by my father, who had a mad scowl on his face.
"What did I do now?" I cocked, hoping I would earn a nice smack across the face, but I didn't get that. He turned around, and punched me instead. He striked me hard, as I fell on my funny bone and my left hip. I held my bloody nose as he hulled my to my feet, his nails digging into my skins, making me yelp in pain.
"Your nothing! A discrace!" He screamed and tears streamed down my cheeks. "Go be sick, that's good. I don't have to see you all day," he smiled and I pushed him off of me as I ran up the stairs, and slammed the door. I locked it shut and ran over to my dresser. I opened my secret drawer and took the oxycodone into my hands, talking water and washing 2 of the pills down my throat.
I went to the bathroom and got a wash rag to put on my face. I sighed and walked over to my bed.
I went under my bed and grabbed a random bottle of alcohol. I grabbed the whole bottle and popped off the wooden top. I took a sip and exhaled a breath of relief. I turned on Netflix, watching the 100. My pain began to lift along with my nausea, thank you oxycodone.
I put the alcohol to my lips and instantly layed down on my bed, began binge watching, and chugged the entire bottle.
It was rum.

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