story dump

Chapter 1

First story pog, also this gonna be pretty specific because it based on something that happened recently 

2nd person

 you're sitting at your desk, fingers tapping on the smooth wood desk you're leaning on. the corners on the desk are chipped and the black stained wood being covered in paint marks. headphones tight around your ears drowning all of the sounds from around you. The music makes you calm despite the dark lyrics. The boring math lesson is something you can only see. you are trying to get through this lesson in anyway that you can.

you open your blinds, the usually blinding Florida sun being covered by clouds. the palm trees trailing throughout your town. You've lived here for so long. 

so why doesn't it feel like home?

The thought snaps you out of your peaceful trance. This doesn't feel right. This is your home but it doesn't feel right. You try to ignore. 

Why are you trying to ignore it? 

The harder you try the more persistent it becomes. You know why you're trying to ignore. At least you hope you do. You close your eyes hoping the darkness overwhelms everything.

 It doesn't.

Instead, it forces you into a memory you can recognize a smaller you. You can see the puffy jacket sleeves as you hop around in plie of fallen leaves. You feel strangely comforted by this as if it's a warm blanket being wrapped around you before being brought into a tight hug by a person who loves you. 

This is home.

your home is a city in Massachusetts. Not the random town in south Florida. Your home is a small standing alone home. Not several different homes being spread out over the years. Your home is happy, warm with your mom and dad happy together. Not two houses, both being cold, dead, and temporary. 

You lean into this memory wanting the feeling to return. you want to remember. You feel like you need to remember. 

but you can't 

the more you think the memory fades black blob clouding up your brain. Instead of the parts that were important. You want to go back. You are sure that you NEED to go back.

but you don't. You can't. 

Your eyes shoot open only to be unwelcomed by the bright sun barely doing anything to brighten up the darkroom.  The class has ended. The music interrupted by ads. Nothings right. 

It's cold. It's lonely. It's a corpse of what it should be. You put your head down. running your finger through your hair. They get caught in tangles. You want to cry. But you can't.

You want to be home...