Do you ever feel like you are out of place, lost, placed in the wrong generation. As if your living the wrong reality? Then welcome to Harlow River's life..
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Do you ever feel like you are out of place, lost, placed in the wrong generation. As if your living the wrong reality? Then welcome to Harlow River's life..
Harlow's senses become heightened as she stumbled down the wooden stairs of her simple american home. The smell of alcohol and weed masking the smell of her family home, not a parent in sight. "Aye Harlow! Nice party dude!" A tall guy with dusty blonde hair squeezed through the crowd engulfing Harlow in a hug. She could smell bourbon, whisky and weed on the collar of his shirt.
Harlow was too high herself to make out what was going on as she gave him a quick handshake and carried on dragging her feet into the kitchen. She needed another glass of alcohol to wash away the image of her mother's face when she comes home to a house filled of reckless teenagers. That was the atmosphere she made almost every friday night after the dreadful passing of her brother, she needed a distraction so the drugs, alcohol and boys came as a cure for her overwhelming sense of guilt, loss and sorrow.
She stumbled over to a bottle of vodka, sculling the last of it making it burn the inside of her throat as she groaned in satisfaction of feeding and keeping her true hidden emotions at bay. Her vision was blurry, her mind was lost, she was lost. The bottle smashed to the ground as she pushed her way through the crowds of sweating teenagers. She couldn't even remember what had happened before she woke up on her bedroom floor, high and intoxicated.
This was just another Friday night for her, throwing a party only to get yelled at by her parents as her best friend Leah pulled her hair back, Harlow puking out all of alcohol she had consumed. The sound of her parents yelling at her only sounding like a fogginess in the background.
So there she was, the party had stopped.. well, stopped by her parents when they got back from a night out. As per usual she was holding onto her toilet for safety. She had puked out every last inch of her stomach. Her best friend Leah just sitting beside her trying to keep her hair out of her makeup smeared face.
"Why do you do this to yourself?" Leah was now wiping the last of Harlow's smeared mascara. It had been obvious the stains were from crying. "I don't know?" The truth was Harlow did know, she just didn't want to admit that she was still so unhappy. Of course Leah and Harlow's parents knew quite well that the passing of her twin brother had caused her to lash out. In reality she just wanted to drown every last emotion making her feel pitiful.
Her habits had a way of doing that but also taking piece by piece of what she had left of the sweet Harlow that once waltzed the halls of her home side by side with Charlie. Sure she had a nice house, friends, a big family but it wasn't the same without her brother.
"I can't always rush over here whenever you decide to throw a party and you end up puking your guts out in front of your parents, who actually love you A LOT!" Leah was like her older sister, even though she's younger than Harlow by a few months. This would happen at least 6 times a month, and Leah would always be there to pick up the broken, messy pieces.
"Yeah i know, i appreciate you." Leah just smiled she shook her head as she threw away the dirty makeup wipes in the bin. "I know you do." That conversation always happened, it was a cycle like a addicted in rehab. Harlow would get shit faced drunk, her parents would come home and bust the party, Harlow would call Leah over and she would sit there with Harlow as her parents threw words at her that Harlow couldn't understand because of how intoxicated she was.
Eventually her father would say "She's too high to even understand, just leave it till the morning" and they would head off to bed leaving Leah to take care of her. "come on, bedtime miss." Leah patted the spot beside her in Harlow's bed. She just lazily stumbled over to her bed, pulling the covers over her tired body. Leah just softly giggled as she listened to her loudly snore.
Her mind was in a different place, floating somewhere in her consciousness. Her mind sure was messy, but it was beautiful in a fucked up way. Harlow opened her eyes, only for her vision to show fogginess. "Shit!" she muttered under her breathe as she held her head in her hands. Her head was pounding, she needed a sip of something hard or a toke on something to fog her mind before the emotions of being sober caught up with her.
The only strange thing was, was that it was still night. Her window was still open, leaving the curtain to move with the bitter wind. The moonlight trickling through her bedroom window. She had only been asleep for an hour or so. She turned to her side as she noticed a sleeping, quiet, peaceful Leah.
Her body craved a smoke, she didn't smoke often but a cigarette felt like the only cure to her foggy headache and sober emotions. She scrambled around her bedside table draws still stumbling around since the alcohol hadn't worn off properly yet. Her eyes squinted as she tried to search her bottom draw, her eyes trying to fight with the darkness.
"Yes!" she grinned in triumph. Harlow sprinted over to her window seat, the cold air flowing from her window causing her to tense up. She had a silver lighter clutched in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. Her back lent against the fluffy cushions of her window seat as she lit her cigarette. Her window looked over her small town and all she could think was how miserable it seemed.
She wished she could be around to enjoy the days when Charlie was still around. Before that her heart and her mind still searched for a different reality, whether her brother was in it or not.
People were more insecure, more depressed, obsessed with popularity. With the weight of not getting enough likes on an Instagram post, or not having enough followers. All of it was superficial. Everyone was obsessed with drama online that they didn't even pay attention to their own lives. Girls at young ages were criticized on how big their ass's were.
She was sick of living in this generation where if you didn't have a phone you were considered weird. Harlow's thoughts danced around in her brain, all she could daydream about was how corrupted everything was. "Harlow? what are you doing?" Leah walked towards her, her voice masked with sleepiness.
Harlow turned around to reveal a tired confused Leah walking towards her. She just shrugged her shoulders and brought the cancerous cigarette to her plump lips. "Y'know that shit kills right?" Leah just sat beside her, resting her blonde head of hair against the frame of the window. "Eh? I've on worse." The horrible truth was she had, not hard drugs but enough to say she's blacked out a few times.
