Seven

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SEVEN

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I always seemed to find myself here.

After I had dropped Parker off on Browning I had drove around aimlessly. I had no direction, just taking whichever road I thought. I had drove to the point I was lost, trapped in a maze of streets. But somehow—somehow—I ended up here. I pushed the door open, not bothering to knock. It was always open. I found everyone in the living room. They were all sprawled out on the couch, listening to music. I dropped down beside Tony. He owned a bar downtown that I went to a lot. “How’s it hanging?”

“Heavy,” I answered.

Without another word Tony passed me a blunt. I slipped it between my lips, drawing slowly. I pulled it in, letting it sit as I dropped my head against the back of the couch. Although I was trying hard not to think my mind seemed to drift anyway. I was thinking about what mom had said—the way she had looked at me. She had looked like she hated me. Like I was trash. A bug on her show. And her words haunted me. You look like him but you’re nothing like him. I couldn’t go back there, at least not when they’re there. I can’t stand the look in their eyes. I hadn’t cried since Pierce died but somehow she had managed it. Even now I felt on the brink of crumbling. And I thought I was so strong. I was wrong. I’m chipped. I’m cracked. I’m goddamn broken. I was lying to myself the whole time. I told myself I was stronger than the addiction that I only wanted it—not needed. I was so stupid. A few days and I was reverted to a mess. I couldn’t keep it together. I was cracking up and what could I do?

Pierce. Pierce would have known what to do. He was always there to pick me up and put me back together, but he was gone. Just a memory and a tombstone. And I had put him there. Why hadn’t it been me? Who would have missed me? I was a plague—a waste of space. All I touched turned to shit. How can I even create anything? What I do create is so screwed up no one could understand it. Pierce should have been the one living his life. He could write a song so sweet it would make you cry. Tell a story so well you’d think it was your own. What could I do? Nothing.

“You going to pass that?” I surfaced back, realizing I was still holding the blunt. I quickly took a drag before I passed it back. Tony didn’t even blink. If he thought something or saw something he kept it to himself. I slipped into myself, letting my eyes slide shut and fell into oblivion.

▪ ▪ ▪ ▪

I felt like I was flying. I drifted through the hallways in a haze. I didn’t even bother to sidestep people as I went. They either moved or they didn’t. My shoulder connected with someone else’s pushing them out of the way. I knew without looking that they were giving me a disgusted look and I didn’t care. I was carefree, worriless, high. I didn’t care about anything around me. I felt like I could take on the world and not suffer at all. But at the same time I knew it was all false. It wasn’t the kind of high someone sought because they wanted to get high. It was the high someone sought when they wanted to forget.

This was me.

I was that person.

I knew in the back of my head that I wouldn’t be doing this if everything that had happened last night hadn’t happened. Being high just wasn’t enough. I needed to be stupid high. I needed to drown myself until I didn’t hear mom’s words. I needed to wash away the look on mom’s face. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t even think about it. Thinking would only lead me places I couldn’t and wouldn’t go. So I took the easy way out—the coward’s way out—I got so high I didn’t know what was what.

I rounded a corner catching sight of Cynthia down the hall. She was leaning against her locker with Brad looking down at her. She was looking better after the fight the other day but there was still shadowing on her nose and around her eyes where I had hit her. I smiled slightly to myself as I passed by her, making sure her eyes connected with mine. “Hi, Brad,” I said as I went. I gave him a wink, watching Cynthia’s face turn red in anger. I ignored her, focusing on Brad. He smiled back at me, waving. I knew he was only doing it in hopes it would improve his standing with Brynn but it didn’t matter. It served me good enough. “Looking good, Cynthia.”

“Drop dead.”

“Gladly,” I said.

I continued down the hall not even all that bothered by Cynthia’s comments. I knew that no one liked me in Riverview High. Other than Jasmine and Brynn no one much cared about what happened to me. They only liked to recognized I existed when I was throwing a party. If it wasn’t for that no one would care at all. I could disappear tomorrow and no one would even notice. I was a shadow. I was a brief flash before everything returned to normal, and that was all I would ever be.

* * * AUTHOR'S NOTE * * *

This one is shorter than I would have liked but I felt that this was something that should stand on it's own. The next one's should be longer hopefully!

Another thing, for those of you who read this when I first posted it for whatever reason a huge chunk wiggled it's way out, but its fixed now. :)

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